Grand Forks herald. [volume] (Grand Forks, N.D.) 1916-1955, 1918-03-01
(By George Randolph Chester and
Lillian Chester.)

tBy George Randolph Chester and
Lillian Chester.)
Copyright, 1918, by the Newspaper
Enterprise Association
Paris, Feb. s.-Roses grow in the
south. of France. In the shelter OF
the green hills, where summer hides
until she can once more spread her
fairy carpet over the wor1d.%%andsusck
1t with bright colors, the gay blos-
SONS cluster against garden walls
and Chamber over quaint trellises ana
NOD from the very wayside.
A road winds down along the sea
and twists among the cliffs, and up
there CLEAN white c%hateaux, red
rooted and yellow-roofed, amid their
oddly mingled palms and pines.
Along the road the tiniest Of horses,
drawing the gauntest and .tallest or
bells tinkling, and its, driver, 4 wide
checked fellow with a pipe In his.
mouth and a peppermint stripe,
across the enc of his muffler, sits ins
dro*sy content. the reins dangling
loose.
A bright-eyed woman steps briskly
along. her market basket on her
arm; a sturdy peasant girl with a
push cart; a boy racing with a dog;
JNos SAooeh movement " 6kHO ll4C
to the restful panorama.
Out there the deep blue water
held lovingly in the arm Of a green
sloped p~romentory. and spreading
beyond to>a blue infinity. The waves
tumble merrily in on the beach,
sparkling and flashing in the sun
light. and tossing their dainty caps
OF pearl on the sand with reckless
extravaganza. if
A few gulls ride /. fat-breasted on
the water, bobbing like corks: a few
others circle lazily in the air; and
above all. over gLlls and sea and
beach and winding road. cart, old
woman, girl and boy and dog, roses
and green-clad hills ard white
chateaux, there bends a serene blue
sky. deep, fathomless, with only here
make The blue more vivid.
Oh, it is a beautiful void; beau
tiful!
And to think that all this glorious
paradise was given to man to be it's
lord and master, given to him that
he might enjoy its, b%oundless. wealth.,
n live in peace and plenty.
: But what is that new movement
on the road among the hills?
Something gray passes there; a
big. covered wagon: another, anoth-
err. a long procession of them.
Ambulances, for up in the hills
there are vast hospitals for conval-
escent wounded.
War! The whole dream, the Wis
ion Of peace and plenty. the thought
OF thanksgiving for the gift Of all
this beauty Of sea and sky and
shifting, breathing life, fades away
War! There is war in the world,
a war SO colossal, S o far-reaching,
that no human being, ven in the
most seqnestered, spot Of this terres-
trial universe, can be. free from its
deadering touch. %''"', %@''
A sudden rage fills the heart.
Why should there be war; this
war: any war!
Why, where all nature is devoted
to the business of living. and bios
soming into beauty; should human
kind have suddenly fallen upon it.
self to MAIN and mangle and de-
stroy!
why should humanity have risen
in one mighty appalling madness to
kill itself!
Why should it have bent all it's
energy, n all its mind. and all the
the one grisly business Of death! st
"a There is no sane mind but that
stops. startled. to ask this unanswer-
able question. no properly constituted
soul which does not cry out in an
agony Of passionate protest against
this awful condition.
We must stop it! There must be
no more war!
We rail. for A.. time. until there
comes the chilling thought Of the
impotence Of our fury. What can
we do that we r not already do
ing?
There succeeds a feeling, Of Utter