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Show Miscdiarw Opinion "Over There." The plan of a league of nations laid this week at the door of the world is the greatest gift that has been offered to humanity since Cain spilled the first blood outside the fields of Eden. They were high words which were written on the banners of America's citizen citi-zen army that sent the khaki legion into battle. No boastful talk of planting a flag on foreign soil, no threat of far-flung far-flung frontiers, no promise of booty in new provinces or spoil from the strong boxes of defeated kings. The men that jammed the transports' holds, that crowded the box cars, that marched up against machine gun and shrapnel, were told that they were making the world not America, nor East Orange, nor California, Cali-fornia, but the world safe for democracy democ-racy in a wap against war. Through the dirt and sweat of the endless end-less hikes, the mud, the shell-fire, there was not much talk of policies. It was just, "We're here because we're here." Then one day in the morning it was over. No more big ones, no more gas, no more ton to go over just waiting, And some of us sat in the billets and began to think. We saw the gitfps in the ranks, the battalion that could rassemble only a handful, the section that left the echelon full and came back half a dozen strong. And some of(us began to wonder won-der ifs and whys. "I see everywhere men in the American I uniform." said President Wilson Satur-1 Satur-1 day. "Those men came into the war ! after we had uttered our purpose. They came as crusaders, not merely to will a war. but to win. a cause." And now we know that it is true, that the high -words written on our banners have been copied into the book of the world's conscience "international cooperation co-operation to insure the fulfillment of I accepted obligations," to end forever the i hazarding of right to the blind fortunes of the legions of might. The men who fought and fell and the women who sacrificed sac-rificed the forndera of the league of nationshave na-tionshave won. Editorial in the Stars and Stripes. France the Soldiers' Paper. Well Raised. A negro mammy had a -'family of boys so well behaved that one day her mistress mis-tress asked: "Sallv, how did vou raise your boys so well?" , "Ah'll tell ycu, missus," answered Sally.( "Ah raise' dem boys with a barrel lave, and Ah raise' 'em frequent. Everybody's. Maybe. At the farmers' conference in the country coun-try store the talk drifted to the work done by the various wives of the committee com-mittee present. "VVal," contributed Uncle Ez, "my wife is one in a million. She gets up in the morn in', milks seven cows, gets breakfast break-fast for ten hard-working men before 0 o'clock, by heck!" "She must be a very robust woman, '' volunteered the commercial traveler $ho happened to be present. "No. stranger, she ain't what you'd call sn stronp; rhe's more-pale and delicn to-like. to-like. Gosh," with a burst of enthusiasm, "if that woman was only strouff, 1 don't know the work she couldn't do"B-15x-. change. : What Then Is Life? "What is Life?" I, asked of a wanton child, -As he chased a butterfly; And his laugh gushed out all joyous ana wild, As the insect flitted by. "What is life?" I asked. "Oh, tell me, I pray!" His echoes rang merrily, "Life is Play. "What is Life?" I asked of the maiden fair, And I watched her glowintr cheek. As the blushes deepened' and softened there,. , And the dimples played "hide : and seek." "What is Life? Can you tell rhe its full--est measure?" She smilingly answered, "Life ia Pleasure." Pleas-ure." "What is Life?" T asked of a soldier brave, As he grasped the hilt of his sword, As he planted his foot on a foe man's grave And looked "creation's lord." "What is Life?'; I 'queried. "Oh, tell me its story"; His brow grew bright as he answered, "Glory." "What is Life?" I asked a mother proud, As she bent o'er her babe asleep, "With a row, hushed tone, lest a thought aloud iliht waken its slumber deep, Her smile turned grave, though wondrous in beauty, As she made reply, "Life? Life is Duty." I turned to the father, who stood near by, And gazed on his wife with pride; Then a tear of joy shone bright in his eye Kor the treasure that lay at her side; I listened well for the tale that should come: "My life?" he cried. "My life is Home!" "What is Life?" I asked the statesman grand, The idol of the hour; The fate of a nation was in his hand; His word was tiie breath of power; He, sickening, turned from the world's caress : " 'Tls a bubble!" he criedi " 'Tis emptiness!" empti-ness!" I turned and asked my inner heart What story it could unfold; It bounded quick in its pulse's start As the record it unrolled, I read on the page, "Love, Hope, Joy, Strife What the heart would make -it such is Life!" Sarah Brock, ah English Poetess of the , Early Nineteenth Century. At a Scottish watering-place M.ic-pherson M.ic-pherson wns found stretched in a contented con-tented mood on the sands, puffing his old pipe. "Como on, Mr.c," sriid liis cor-1, panion, "let's go for a sail." "Nu, replied Maopherson, "I has had a jtik dinner at the cost o' three Mid sn:ip' an' I'm takin' na risks." The ArnaWj Nothing to Fear. f j A young lady on entering a cab nntic -the horse was somewhat frisky. Heing, timid young thing, she smiled sweetly j the ca'bhv and said: "I hopo that you will not run away w: me." '"vj "No, mum." he replied, "I have ?- w,;s and seven kids at home already." Fla C delphia Public Ledger. '- |