The Washington times., 1923-05-02
BY RABBI LEWIS BROWNE.
Copyright, 1922, by Cosmopolitan News
Service.l

BY RABBI LEWIS BROWNE.
Copyright, 1879, by Cosmopolitan News
Service.l
NORTH CARVER. Mass, May
2.-Charles Garland. I am con.
WINGED, is a man extraordinary.
Possibly he's saint.
After three days of intimate con-
tact with Garland on his farm /
am left with the feeling that ] have
talked with man whom / would
liken to a new Nazarene. Not that
he tried to give me that feeling,
not that he said single word or
made the slightest gesture to i'm
press me.
He does far more than talk his
idea; he lives it. He labors on
that stony farm nine and ten hours
Is served morning, noon and night;
his bed: and seems to be supreme.
ly happy.
Raised in wealth, educated at
Harvard, able to procure all the
Injuries of a Monte Cristo, this
youth yet Of his own volition pre-
fers to toll there amid the gloom
and rigor of thirty acres, sleeping
in a barn heated only by the bodies
OF an old horse, a cow and calf,
and eating food a beggar might re-
ject. A man would have to be
made Of tough stuff, indeed, to be
able to look at such extraordi-
narily heroic conduct, and not con-
fess himself over-awed.
I came to aGarland's place largely
out of curiosity, and of course with
q prejudice against the man. Be-
ing just plain, human individual,
with a weakness for 1uxuries and
the stern necessity of working in
the sweat Of my mind to get the
ordinary comforts, the thought Of a
young man turning down a million
dollar legacy quite naturally reused
my curiosity. Like most people,
suspected him of idiocy-or else
OF some sort Of vile fraud. hated
to admit that man in his right
senses and with no trick up his
sleeve was capable of doing any
thing SO utterly super-nornal.
Had to See Him.
Yet, because / had read of an
Hosea, and a st. Francis, I could
not wave this Charles Garland aside
las does the average man-and
merely sneer, "Oh, he's nuts!'
had to go and see the man with
my own eyes; I wanted to talk to
him and watch him and find out
what was going on in his mind.
It was not merely the man Gar
land that interested me, but also
the communist colony he was re.
ported to have established on his
farm. I had read of many such
little attempts at cooperative liv-
ing in this country but most of
them were perpetuated by very def
mite religious beliefs and supersti.
tfons. There were the Shakers, for
instance, and the Donhobors, the
Dunkards. Now we read of the
House of David, which has it's por-
ton of notoriety.
Most such colonies, built on
purely ethical or sociological lines,
either have degenerated into sue
cessful businesses, or else they
have been destroyed by internal dis
sension or outside interference.
Here was a chance to see an intel
lectual communist enterprise too
new to be corrupted by success or
broken by personal ambitions and
too small to be molested by over
righteous deputy constables. So
after arranging an introduction
through friend, I came 20 North
Carver to see Garland and his
place.
Sight Chilled Heart.
The appearance of the farm has
been described so often that
need not speak of it at length.
l got to 1t on a cold, cloudy morn.
ing, and the sight OF the stony
soil. the lanky trees, the ancient
shack, the implanted barn and
tumble-down sheds chilled my heart,
as the wind chilled my bones.
us that Garland's placer cried
1ncredulously OF the man who had
driven me from the depot two
miles away.
yep, thet's it!' answered the
native with snort. "Thets all
he's got left of his millionaire
poor fish!''
A plain young woman in khaki