Atlanta semi-weekly journal. (Atlanta, Ga.) 1898-1920, 1919-01-10
nw W. GARET WILDE.

! NClW llltlll no more uilIll lIlGN IllONCu
next door They've grown in num-
bprS, and the mother wears that same
look of serene resignation growing
more resigned with the years Grand
ma sat quiet and still in her corner
listening to youth chatter. Hhe
father an ordinary tenant farmer, is
STRUGGLING on.
When | went in they were finishing
their supper i'm the Kitchen. but one
by one they came in and greeted me
with welcome handshak1ngs, and It
was good to hear the mothers voice,
you look Just like always I'd WOa-
dercd if I'd ever see you again." and
so on. 1t was peasant there by the
glowing wood fire.
Came another into the room. He is
their oldest, the pride of their heart;
young America in the uniform OF his
country. Could this be the little boy
| used to know? lie who was 50
white faced, so thin i'm those times;
now 50. changed. It was great, to
clasp his hand again; to see him
Stanfling there so tall, so Strai2ht
and manly in bearing, with that indie
Unable air about him and all in ali
looking just for the world like the
rest Of 'em with his hair rumpled
back and cut close in that way they
have.
He even had seIf-command. that
DOiSe and SuTeueSS of self which
training hestOWs along with all it's
OClti pressed SllIS.
They all look alike" his father
said.
And thus 1t was I entered into and
became a member Of the intimate
home circle where the son from a
camp in neighbOring state was
home on a few days leave, and in
two short hours this is what L eX-
perienccd:
After chatting sociably for a
while in the old-,ime beautiful Gus
tom southern hill people have, you
know, ] asked young America:
"You've found you like your Uncle
sam pretty well. haven't you?"
Il sure do" and his voice carried
that convincing tone L so wanted to
hear.
lie wants to go back his mother
spoke, gentle like and sad. 1t was
tragic. But l wasn't surprised. 1t
was if I'd known it all along, some
how, only [ didn't know about this
boy.
it was other boys: other mothers
I'd been thinking about; mothers
who'd lambasted the government; our
government; yours and mine, and
raised such storms of indignant pro
tests and rawlings and Carrying-Ons
that made you blood boil; that's
what.
And I'd been thinking about their
sons; rotten spoilt cubs who needed
to be controlled by somebody, and
taught and trained to be some good
like folks ought to be This boy was
different; this patient little mother
who braVely, couragGOusly bore her
trials, was different She didn't rave
and act foolish; she just resigned
herself to her lot, this wonderfully
dear little mother!
Now, the boy didn't like the camps
at first. 1t was all so foreign to
him; to anything he'd ever known.
ever thought about, even. But-and
liSten-he wrote the cheerfullest let
terS home and made like to them that
he was aWfully pleased and immense
ly happy and for them not to worry
and all that sort of thing; that he
had more to eat and better food than
they had at home, and he says this
part was quite true, and L know it
was, and the other part soon got to
be true, too. Now, the little mother
was cheered by his letters home, but
she couldn't understand why it was
her neighbOrs got such Wailing
bowls and moUrnful dirges from
their boys? Why was it her neigh
bOrS' sons were begging for money,
and bemoaning their sad fate, when
her boy was having it so fine and
easy?
[ looked at her son and I said to
his mother: It's all in the boy and
the way they're raised" for / knew
she'd done her best; the best she
knew.
He raised his eyes from the floor,
where he'd been looking since moth
er said, He wants to go back" You
see, he dropped his head sudden like
that, and you may think he was see
ing the floor, but he wasn't He
was seeing Uncle Sans army camp
that he loves, and is going to have
to leave! And, ne was seeing other
things-and he really doesn't know
Ii r,O1f i,,6r oil l,n
wouldn't hurt his mother for worlds.
He loves her. Then she never taught
him how to act stubborn and kick
Uncle Sam and all such rottenness.
But he's got his battle to fight, even
though he never went to France.
And he says he feels he's missed
something; not getting to go across,
though he's gained so much; things
this county never could give him; not
having it to give. They gain more
than mere pounds in weight, you
know. And their brain grows and
their mind broddens out. Narrow
ness rankles them. The mother spoke
again: Il fixed. up lots for Christ
mas, KNOWN he was comm home,
you know, an [ cooked pies and
custardS and cakes an just every
thing but he couldn't hardly eat 1t;
he sars it amt like what they ha e
at the camps-and he wants to go
back" she ended, hopeIessly lost in
her thoughts. And, again, he studi-
ously studied the floor, or his shoes
or something down there. Here was
a problem and here was I who dote
on problems in the very midst of one
in all it's pathetic unWindings. In
my mind I pictured the cakes. It's
easy, since I've seen and sampled
hundreds; lately seeing suHices. One
attains wisdom only from years and
experience. Generally speaking,
they're stacked layers high, soft oozy
icing between; Oft~timeS Vari-cOlOred
gum drop candies bedeck and deco
rate the top. Cheapest baking pow
ders used in a cake with too many
eggs, too much grease, refuse to
fire the spark of ambition that will
rise a cake up in the world; thus it
results in a soggy, indigestible af-
fair. Exceptions, sure, but l know
this sort very well.
The mother went on with it, He
says they know how to cook good
at the camps and the things IS lots
better there. He's goin' to show me
how to fix things like they do" OF
all things! Now, who'd Il thought
Ii, iI..js Off to your Uncle Sam.
Seeding boys home who can teach
mOthc" THINGS ana what's more,
,,C.hor's willing and DathetiCally ca
ger to learn, because she sees the
nc. i'll the boy who came and
The boy who went away, and there's
4 marked difference in the ones now
1T hone and in their brother! And
the difference decidedly in his favor.
wealth, ruddy, red, glowing is his
Well, the contrast is pitiful! Now,
what are you going to do about it:
Something's simply got to be done,
and soon!
The parents of this boy keenly
realize that they nor their children
never had a chance; that ignorance is
a curse; that they suffer it's effects.
These people and others like them
want a chance. | SenSed their hopes,
s.zTyssss