Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1920-03-11
THE BRAY OF THE ASS
By DR.. Frank Crane

At Tivoli once, just outside of Rome, | spent
few weeks. My chamber window gave upon
the main street of the town. There all day
long, up and down, in to market, and back
home came the peasants, with their little asses
laden heavily
These asses were the most doleful, shaggy,
sad-faced long-eared, solemn pictures of Servi-
tude imaginable. AS they ambled along, with
huge pack basket slung on each side and a
countryman behind beating them with club,
they seemed to typify the worlds burden bear
When first you hear the ass bray you are
inclined to laugh. No imagination could con-
dscord, triumph of the groteSque.
Then it ceases to be funny and begins to
be irritating You feel that nature is insulting
YOU Such dreadful noise ought not to be.
Then you become incredulouS 1t cannot pc.
You must be dreaming. AS the negro said,
when he saw at circus camel for the first
time "They amt no such anamile."
Then you understand You penetrate into
it's meaning. You perceive that it is music.
1t is the crashing motif of the worlds tragedy.
1t is the wild, gargantuan, hideous, gargoyled
theme of creations sorrow
In the cantice of the ass you hear the soul
utterance of all galley slaves, OF all them that
lie in PRISONS of wretched llte-tlames putterlng
| out in sinking sweat shops.
Here is the cry of them that built the
pyramids under the taskmaster'S lash, the ant
swarm that erected the Parthenon and the
cathedrals and laid out the gardens of Hadrian's
villa; of all those sons of Ham laboring with
blistered backs in tropic fields collecting ivory,
digging diamonds and gold; of the imbruted
multitude that shovel the coal into furnaces and
hew the wood and draw the water that their
pampered brothers may laugh and grow fat; OF
| that myriad who have nothing to sell but their
| flesh and blood.
Always the superStructure of the earth'S
magnifcance has rested upon the foundation
of misery, our silks and SatinS and champagne
have lowered with roots deep in human sweat
and toll.
And lest humanity should forget the hidden
agony of the many, God Eput into the mouth
of the meekeSt of his creatures this miSShapen
song, this thunderouS, twisted dSSonance of the
coSmc woe.
In times vast aratorio, listen to the music
of the ass, to which the apostle wrote the
words, "For the whole creation groaneth and is
in travail together until now"
One tarlike soul "deScended into hell" that
is, he went among the cellar people of the
their children upon his knee and blessed them
So he eternaly disturbs the world and shall,
until at last there is Justice "unto this last"
And when the young NaSarene rode tri-
umphant into jerusalem while the people spread
their garments before him, and Strewed palms.
is it not without significance that he RODE
not on prancing war horse, but upon an ass,
and upon a colt, the foal of an ass"
copyright, 1920, by Frank Crane)
ct suppose the big fish got away" sheer
ed the indolent acquaintance.
"Of course" rejoined the true fisherman.
"They have learned to know me. Any full
grown fish around here hides as soon as !
step into boat ---.--.-.--...--....