TaÌˆgliche Omaha tribuÌˆne. [volume] (Omaha, Nebr.) 1912-1926, 1915-09-18


Tines sfs ~ tiaasa. .aau hamss.
tAfisn ihiN m tslttth IA ihsF
NsiN det6f BED "a hsaad thtttty
8tWNnA
rhtf ibys 81 hnns saa thliafsn
historical Az iAsy wste tallad
assifgYsv ~ NE ent ard mafdstsfs
~ we ether
There : ~ laird shsi astrlsYs Al
Assgefs wafs sentimental lnTa ~
snti4uiiyi az and literature ~ Ghey
esft ateasRd III %dtstfeylhm sathsafala
snA Ntfsfitx
Gtfasny was the only lana that
bad never MagtB var uF8n xlnsli
hatlons tor the pufpute "a aNKfssa
stau@sn she was thafaed with /
desire 90 dominate the Nufid
Germany has shown herself to Be
enc Efsai inspired living Intellectual
ufsanisHt-she IA therefore intafiab.
@ described a. 4 blind and ruthless
maehint
Germany furnishes TO the world
q model 81 justice. order, clean Rov-
sfument and democratic efficiency
she Is therefore represented as A
hafsh autocr8ev
To-day she stands mistaken Upon
the granite plinth oi her righteous
cause calm, noble bfowcd, maxnan-
imous, iu The face Of her d%clifious
enemies-she IS therefore denounced
Is The Mad Dog ot Europe
But quite apart from conventional
morality, there Is IN immortal ten
aeity ia Truth, And because il is
immortal il Il terrible. This iron law
IS the everlasting Nemesis that
hangs above the paper tents and
naked tongues of the armies OF
f~alsehood and hypocrisy.
Can they bind the cluster of the
Pleiades or loose the bands OF
Orion?
Perhaps this quotation may come
home with a peculiar light to the
soul of Mr.. Rudyard Kipling, with
its flair for the Biblical2 Perhaps
he will recall the sentiments of his
"Recessional" and give us a new
definition of hypocrisy? Perhaps he
will not refrain from claiming a gift
for true prophetic analysis when re-
reading the warnings of his Is
landers!" Perhaps he has not for
gotten those days when he lay i'll
in America with a fever from which
he seems never to have entirely
recovered, and Moloch inquired after
his condition in hourly kilograms?
One of the fatal signs of the dark
ness that has overtaken a press
poisoned people is the peculiar
blight that seems to gnaw at the
minds of England's foremost think
ers and gifted men. Their tongues
are wryed and what they utter is as
sand and gravel. Their brains ring
as hollow as the vibrant leather Of
the recruiting drum. For all this is
the fatal, dreadful and inevitable
result of the attempts to defend a
cause begotten in %iniquity, delivered
in darkness and nursed upon lies.
It has slain genius and numbed the
sinews of logic.
I am sitting here in the clear Ger
man sunlight, amidst the rustling Of
the German lindens and the song
and laughter of healthy, beautiful
German children playing in one of
the splendid, flower-decked parks of
this bright and peaceful Barbarian
capital. All about me I feel, as
though it were an electric currents,
the gigantic throbbing of the heroic
German heart, the mastery, deep,
harmonious rhythm of this peoples
soul. A thousand evidences of their
innate kindness blossom up before
my eyes-the kindness to children,
to dogs, to the aged, yes, to their
very enemies, as | saw yesterday at
Doeberitz with my own eyes. This
deep solicitude for the poor or help
less is but a spark from that wonder
full and iinperishable fire that towers
to heaven in Love of Fatherland.
Here are soldiers that fought in
Belgium now playing with the
children, or lost in sentimental
rhapsodies with their sweethearts.
And he who says these magnificent
men were guilty Of the horrible
cruelties begotten in Belgian brains
and sown broadcast by the Franco
British press, lies in his heart of
hearts.
/ have three newspapers in my
hand-a German, a French and an
English. The German, like nearly all
German newspapers, is quiet, re-
strained, seemly in its tone, a re-
Election of the true values of the
gentleman which this wal has
proved as residing more deeply in
the German nation than in all others.
The second is lie Matin. 1t reads
as though written by maniacs and
men possessed of devils, the revela-
ton of a people gone raving mad
with the red lunacy Of war. Its
muddy prints swarms with the
mouth-missiles of the French-hys-
%terical shrieks Of 'les Boches"-rid-
i%culous, impotent yells of les Bar
baresl"
But the darkest depths of brutal
ity and malignity are reached with
the English paper. Here, black upon
white, in the pure sunlight pouring
from these blue heavens, I read
these words in the London Times
of June 10th. They occur in an art
icle entitled "A Tour Through the
Trenches" Yesterday one Of II
brave soldiers captured a German
and plunged his bayonet into his
body with the words: This is for
the Lusitanial" Then. after a short
pause, he transfxed him for the
second time; "And that's for my
self" No love is left between US
and the enemy. Not long ago a Ger
man came toward US shouting: Il am
a Christian" The answer was: "Are
- - ~ - - x.