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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, December 01, 1913, Image 8',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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HE WAS "TIRED OF THE GAME"
Bartlett Wiley, traveling sales, has blown his brains out, at Evansville,
Ind. He was just "tired of the game." K
He was 45 years old and a bachelor. He was a high liver. He had
traveled extensively and knew people and customs, history and points of
interest, and was still traveling.
Tired of the game Why, he wasn't in the game at all! Living for
oneself, enjoying oneself, wandering about by oneself aren't the game.
Forty-five years old and only himself to work for, live for! No wonderhe
was tired, but that is no more being in the game than buying a bag of pea
nuts at the tent entrance is seeing the circus.
The game is doing things for others, not caring for self only. The
game is having a home, not a chair in some clubroom. The game is hav
ing a wife and children in one's heart, not in having satiety of travel and of
high living in one's heart.
The poor devil was simply looking at the game. He was merely peep
ing over the shoulders of players at the chess board of life, without know
ing what a "pawn" could do to a "king," or a "castle to a "knight," with
out having a cent or a heart throb of-his own at stake. ;
Tired? Of course he was tired. He was tired because he was out of
the game. The egot is father of the misanthrope. The 'ripened fruit of
satiety is ennui. He whose sole care is self must be a loser, finally. It is
the law of the game of life. "It is not well that man should live alone."
Yea, for man to live alone, for himself, within himself, is fatal. Such a one
has had no mission worth while. Such a one is dead before he uys the pis
tol. Such a one has not got into the game.
This man Wiley's accounts were straight. He had ready money. He
lived as he pleased. He had years before him in a good position. HeWas
not lacking in gqod health. Yet, he had failed, was tired to the point of
ending it all. He had come to foolishly and mistakenly believed that the
game consisted of his life. And he felt that it was not worth while. It
DIARY OF FATHER TIME
The wave of suggestive playa on
the sex question and -the people de
fending or condemning them re
minds me of a similar condition pre
vailing in England about 200 years
ago. At that time were such plays
as the "Spanish Fryar," "Double
Dealers" and "Love Triumphant."
One critic bitterly assailed their pro
duction as indecent and unfit to be
seen by even the most learned
"They are a large collection of
debauchery," he said, "presented in
all kinds of ways, sometimes in image
and description, sometimes by allu
sion, sometimes in disguise. And
what can be the meaning and result
of such representation unless to
awaken folly and weaken the defense
According to the ancients, no one
could be struck by lightning while
asleep, and no tree struck by light
ning could be ' burned. Splinters
from suoh a tree, diligently chewed,
were an infallible cure for toothache
and were, of course, pleasanter to the
taste than the dentists' forceps. And
the old-time schoolboy firmly believ
ed that if he were rash enough to
mention lightning directly after a
flash the important part of his rai-
ment would be immediately torn off.
And many were his attempts to land
his fellows in that predicament.