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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, May 27, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 14',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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recess time in the shade of an orange
tree, getting their Jessons.
School over, they march decorous
ly away from the building. But once
around the corner, they let flfll the
mantle of decorum, and become joy
out young savages
You will find among-them all the
school boy and girl typ6s known in
There is at the Diligencia hotel an
American planter who has a black
a very black eye.
It looks Jike any other black eye.
But nowhere in the world probably is
there a black eye so significant as
this one. Or so, at least, it seems to
A peon soaked him in the eye with
a cluster of knuckles.
"The damned scoundrel saw I was
packing to quit the country," the
planter explains. "For the life of me
I can't see what he had it in for me
for. It was his last chance, so he up
and punched me."
That, however, is merely the
planter's way of looking at it You
can hardly expect him to see clearly
through a blackened eye. It and his
feelings are sore. V
Everywhere in the world there is
popular discontent, if discontent can
be said to be popular. There is also a
growing hunch that most of us are
not getting all that is coming to us.
This discontent finds expression in
many ways. Great Britain has Lloyd
George and his land tax. Portugal
and China recently kicked their rulers
off their thrones and the people took
into their own hands the reins of gov
ernment. Italy and Spain may soon
enjoy a similar experience. In Col
orado the miners went to war with
And in Mexico a peon hits a planter
in the eye.
They want the land, these peons.
uney are inarticulate, aumc rney
have been, starved, whipped, kept in I
ignorance, led by .the nose. Their
reasoning processes are curious and
But they want the land.
Ask any soldier of- Villa the rebel
what he is fighting for arid he will
answer: "To get the land,"
He is trying with his rifle to' do
what Lloyd-George with his land tax
is accomplishing in England break
up the big estates.
The rebels are in the north. But
their faces and their rifles are turn
ed toward the southland.
And in the southland a peon dares
to fling a cluster of knuckles into the
face of his master.
There is war on the plaza, blood
less but bitter.
On-the one side is The Widow.
On the other is the Mysterious Per
sonage. Because they hate each other so,
they are inseparable and most affec
tionate. They play the game for
The game isthis: If either can
inveigle a colonel to stop for a chat,
10 point! are added to her score. A
majorcounts seven, a captain five, a
first lieutenant three, and a second
Naval and marine officers have
General Funston and Admiral
Fletcher would be worth 50 points
each if they ever came to the plaza,
but they never do.
Ordinary correspondents count
o o '
"A MIGHTY MAN IS HE"
Uncle Bob Jordan, the blacksmith,
is stepping mighty high this week on
account of the arrival of two brand
new grandchildren. The new arrivals
are at the homes of John Pitschford
and Charles Lovelady, and in less
than three days. Uncle Bob is now
anxiously awaiting news from Okla
homa and Texas, where he has two
more sons-in-law. Cutter (Ark.)