Elko independent. [volume] (Elko, Nev.) 1915-current, 1918-02-20
MEMBER OF The ASSOCIATED PRESS
RATSI

RATsl
Discussing people, there is one kind
OF individual who is about as cheer
full as the neighbor who comes into
your sickroom TO cheer you up, looks !
you over pityingly and begins TO
ruminate out loud upon how long you
can possibly last a writer in
Golfers recently called these people
"clackers," which is of course, war
term with just as strong a kick in II
as its sister descriptive, "slackers." y
'clacker" may be generally defined as
a person not against the governments
wartime policy, but one who can see
no out for n soldier except death by
some means or other. Doubtless
you have heard it. He meets you on
the street, or she comes busting in
through the back door while you are
eating breakfast, and he, or she, as
the example happens to be, immedi-
ately launches into something OF this
sort: "Oh, dear MRS., (supply
the masculine if necessary, have you
read the morning papers? oh, amt
this war terrible? My goodness, just
think OF the millions of our boys who
are being killed and wounded and
are dying slowly with terrible dis
eases over there in those horrible
trenches! oh, just can't bear to
have my John go. An he's drafted,
you know, an in the first call, an he's
liable to go any day an just know
I'll never see him again, an even if
do he'll be so crippled up I'll never
know him, an etc" and raising Il
perfectly clean apron, donned for the
occasion, perhaps, to her trimming
eyes, she begins to shed copious tears
with the consequent nasal discomfort,
about the time you finish your grape
fruit and tackle the eggs, and the re-
suit is you leave the wife to argue
1t out with her and go down town for
breakfast.
Never let it be said we have no
heart, nor sympathy with legitimate
sorrow, or deep grief at parting
with loved ones; there is no sweeter
scene in the catalogue of human
events than the loving wife in the
husbands arms as he leaves upon a
mission dangerous, aye, even where
death is inevitable; the mothers
goodbye to her son has pathos not
even in the wifes farewell, and the
kiss of the sweetheart is more touch
ing than all, for she, no doubt. is say
ing goodbye TO first love. having
no one left who can quite understand
and so give her the comfort she must
so sadly need. But this deep grief. oil
sorrow, is never extended over a per
iod of months and months before the
parting, nor is II peddled promisCu
ous1y to bored neiEhborh9od if II is
really legitimate. The man or wo
man who suffers most suffers silent
lys: and smile hides the pain of the
wound; cheerful words supplant the
moan of grief; fears and dreams OF
death coming to a loved one exist, but
asbrave heart says what must be
must, and that is all there can be ia
it, but in the heart of the ClackcI
the feeling becomes bubble OF hot
air that rises to the voice box. caus
ing the would-bo sufferer to talk anC
cry his or her grief out upon suffer
ing community who, Lord knows, hav,
troubles enough of their own.
All is not calamity in wartime b!
any means. Statistics show that
very small percentage Of the men en-
gagged upon Il battlefield, or in tn,
trenches I'm the present war are kill
ed, or die at all. This is war o
science and wits. and the man whC
keeps his wits about him has fai,
chance of coming through with
whole skin. And such a man will hav,
a wealth of experience and training
that money could not buy anywher,
in the world. And so we say TO thos,
people who hide their grief behind tn,
CHEEKY smile; to those who see n sill
yer lining in every dark cloud, at II
good; you are as much of a soldier a.
your boy. or your husband or you
sweetheart; everyone Is with you: TIT
whole community loves your spirit
sympathlzcs with you in your silon
sorrow" but to the clackcr who's,
tongue beats out a shallow dirgc 70
some member OF tho family who ha
never yet been called, or oven thougl
he is in the first call is 80 far re
moved from the states quota as I,
make II doubtful whether or not h,
eyer will be called. this long fac,
whosB-dolight Is TO sit in at n tea
pssty three times a day, We say. IL
the Language. Of the Irish ship cap
tain N aloud vulgar voice, RATS.
" iL--s4-- .
HARD ON
TgE EAp1