Life — December 17, 1914 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

1112 Our Only Hope APA,” said Harold, “I see that Ps Congress has opened again. I wish you would tell me just what they do.” Harold's papa smiled almost grimly. “It’s very remarkable, Harold,” he said, “and it shows that you are a born student of events, that you should ask me such a question just when I am in the mood to talk about Harold, I am deeply stirred about the incom- petence of Congress. My heart bleeds when I think how our affairs are run.” Harold's voice was full of sympathy. “Perhaps, papa, when I grow up I can do something to make it better,” he said, “if you, who are always so good in telling me such wise things, will show me now just what ought to be done.” Harold’s father sighed deeply. “My boy, I couldn’t begin even to suggest to you the depths of stupidit the awful extravagance, the tragic carelessness of our chosen represen- tatives.” “But, papa, just how does it work? Can't you tell me that?” “My dear boy, you couldn't have come to a better person. Listen and I will, in a few simple words, tell you just how our government is run. First, you must understand that everybody is busy with his own affairs—earning a living, for example, as I do.” “And doing other things, too, papa— playing ball and running autos and having fun.” “Harold, your brightness astonishes me continually. That is the idea. You see, the people are all occupied, and so they appoint a few men among them to conduct their public affairs—represen- tatives they are called—and they are supposed to represent the people.” “But they don’t really, do they?” “Ah, my boy, that is the sad part of it. Indeed they do not. They have nothing else to do all the time but get the best of the people. They have no system of regulating expenses, and as each one of them is trying cither to feather his own nest or to make himself ‘solid’, as the saying is, with certain powerful interests, you can imagine the awful result. That, in a nutshell, is what is the matter “WHAT IS THAT CONFUSION OF TONGUES?” “THAT'S BABEL, with Congress, And to add to all this confusion, they talk so much that even when some of them have good inten- tions, it is practically impossible to ‘omplisheanything. And so we go on, not getting any relief.” “But, papa, we are going to. mighty soon, too.” Harold spoke in such a confident tone that his kind father looked at him suspiciously, and “Who has been telling you that, Harold?” “ Mamma.” “Um! And saying?” She's been saying that under man’s what has she been MY CHILD.” dreadful rule all has been wrong, but that already sixteen States have voted for woman suffrage, and it won't be long now before the millennium will he here. Papa, what is a millennium?” Harold’s papa smiled. “It's everything you want, always coming to-morrow.” “Well, anyway, it’s almost here, and we'll be enjoying it to the very full, mamma says, when the women rule. And she says there won't be any more extravaganza, and nobody will talk 1n- less they have something to say, and the downtrodden will have their rights, oppressed will and forth 1 poor, back shop-girls ride to business