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Cayton's weekly. (Seattle, Wash.) 1916-1921, June 15, 1918, Image 1

Image and text provided by Washington State Library; Olympia, WA

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn87093353/1918-06-15/ed-1/seq-1/

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Published every Saturday at Seattle, Washington,
U. S. A.
In the interest of equal rights and equal justice to
all men and for "all men up."
A publication of general information, but in
the main voicing the sentiments of the Colored
It is open to the towns and communities of the
■tate of Washington to air their public grienvances.
Social and church notices are solicited for pub
lication and will be handled according to the rules
of Journalism.
Subscription $2 per year in advance. Special
rates made to clubs and societies.
HORACE ROSCOE CAYTON. .Editor and Publisher
That sweet girl graduate has already be
come a thing of the past.
Russia is afraid to trust Japan and in
this Russia seems to show some good hard
horse sense.
A Republican convention is to be held in
Tacoma June 15th. Let's hope that the
delegates thereto will be Republicans.
And now comes the report that Uncle Sam
has a million soldiers in France. If this
be true, and we do not doubt it, Ilinden
berg is like to be in hell before snow flies.
If the Puget Sound country ever wit
nessed a more ideal June, it was before old
man Puget made his appearance hereabouts.
County candidates have begun to sprout
and as usual the court house ring leads all
the rest.
If the Seattle Electric thinks its not get
ting a square deal, then draw the water
from your stock, and the city will take your
plant immediately, if not sooner.
No, constant reader, the name of the com
mander of the Allies is not General Isimo,
but Generalissimo Foch, which is pro
nounced fush.
Cayton's Weekly begins its third year
today and thus has the campaign sheet of
1916 moved along in the even tenor of its
From the number of times Seattle's lone
colored high school graduate appeared in
Tolo, the school paper of the Franklin
High, he was as popular in the school as he
was Prim.
No wonder its popular to pinch a boot
legger, for he always has the money to pay
his fine and generally pleads guilty.
"We have had both a mother's day and
a children's day, the expense of both, father
has borne without murmer or complaint,
but it seldom ever happens that either
"mother or children" have a sympathetic
thought or word for father unless they
think they can work him for a little more.
Who seeks to profit of necessities of life
in this world war is about as low and eon
temptable as he who steals a penny from a
dead man's eye.
How in heaven's name can owners of
apartment houses reduce rents when coal
is as high as it is and threatening to go
as high again next winter? It simply "can't
be did."
Not being able to skin the city, the Mas
ter Builders' Association refuse to bid furth
er on city school work. This a true case of
rule or ruin.
And now it's the Hull instead of the milk
of the cocoanut that is to be the next tax
assessor, if the will of the court house ring
Hats off to two colored American soldiers
who fought like tigers and held twenty
boches who had planned a silent raid on
our boys in the trenches. This act of brav
ery reminds us of the Negro in Bellinghain
when registering for the war census, upon
being asked if he wanted to claim exemp
tions, replied, "No, I'm pretty black but
I'm not yellow." Give the colored man a
chance equal with his white brother and he
will give a splendid account for himself.—
Camas Post.
Representative John F. Miller of the
state of Washington has given much time
and study to the preparation of a bill for
the control and prevention of diseases due
to immorality. The measure is entitled "A
Bill to Conserve and Increase the Industrial
Man Power of the United States." The pub
lic health service is charged with the admin
istration of the proposed legislation, which
deals with the evil in a way that will in
sure beneficial results if it is enacted into
law. Mr. Miller proposes to establish in
ternment hospitals for the observation and
treatment of those afflicted, and to prevent
diseased immoral persons from traveling
from one state to another. Because of the
latter provision the measure has been re
ferred to the interstate commerce commit
tee of the house, from which a favorable
report is looked for.—Mt. Vernon Argus.
Henry Johnson, a colored soldier, of Al
bany, N. V., has been cited and decorated
by the French military authorities for what
the French general o f division terms "a
magnificent example of courage and ener
gy." With him was Needham Roberts, an
other colored man. "Both men fought
bravely," says Pershing in his official re
port of the exploit. On the same day that
the cables from France brought the news of
Johnson's and Robert's heroism, the wires
from Valdosta, Georgia, brought the story
of the lynching of a colored woman, Mary
Turner by name,, because she attempted to
resist the lynching of her husband. This
coincidence has moved the New York World
to inquire: "With tens of thousands of
American Negroes fighting for civilization
in France under the American flag, how
much longer are the American people to tol
erate Negro lynching?" The answer is
easy. Negro lynchings will be tolerated in
the South—where they occur almost exclu
sively—so long as the political party to
which the New York World adheres is per
mitted to deprive Negro citizens of their
right to vote and thus, through the exer
cise of their civil rights, to protect their
rights to property and life—Camas (Wash
ington) Post.
The more oil that is poured on the waters
from U-boats with broken backs, the quieter
the seas will become—Philadelphia Inquirer.
Beans and peas and garden-sasg, they tell
the IWhe he shall not pass.—Baltimore Sun.
"I didn't raise my boy to bo a coward;
I want my boy to go if there is Avar.
I want to stand and watch him proudly
Iwant to gaze upon him from the door.
I do not want to lose him or to keep him,
I only long and long to have him be
A man whene'er his country comes to sweep
Into her surging legions of the free.
I do not want my boy to be craven;
I love him, and I'd hate to see him go;
And yet I'd rather lose him—sadly lose
Than have him hide in fear to face the
I've prayed with all the spirit of a woman
For peace and that our struggle might not
But since it has I want him brave and hu
My boy must march away with flag and
I'd give him, yes, a thousand times I'd give
With all he means to me of love and joy:
Because I would not love him if he wasn't
My ideal of a woman's kind of boy.
I do not harbor hate or yearn for venge
ance ;
I would not crush a violet with my hand;
But if it comes to fighting, then I want him
To be a man and struggle for his land.
I want my boy to go if we must enter
This mad world-conflict raging in its
With all it means to me to have him leave
I'll give him to his country —help him
For. so I think a mother does her duty,
And keeps her faith with honor and with
I didn't raise my boy to be ;i coward,
I'd rather have him dead and turned a
—Consumer's Review.
The things I do to win the war are things
I always did abhor. So give me credit, I
beseech, for loyalty that is a peach. I'd like
to mount a foaming steed and charge the
foe at frightful speed. I'd like to ride an
aeroplane above the clouds that sen dthe
rain, above <the forest and the hill, and drop
some bombs on Kaiser Bill. I'd like to walk
a cruiser's deck 'mid scenes of battle and of
wreck. But all such things are barred to me.
I may not fight, on land or sea, I may not
garner gory sheaves, because I'm fat and
have the heaves. And so I'm doing things I
hate, that I may keep my record straight.
I'm digging soil and sowing weeds. I till the
garden and repeat, and there are sand-burrs
in my feet; that valued foodstuffs be sup
plied, I gather thistles in my hide: I grow
the bean and marrowfat: I'll win the war or
break a slat. I hope when history is writ,
and warriors who did their bit are loaded
with the heroes' bays, there'll be some men
tion of the jays who had to do their stunt at
home and grow things in the fertile loam.
I'm doomed to raise my sparrowgrass while
younger men to battle pass, so I will do it
with a will, and hoc my beets with wondrous
skill, and raise fresh rhubarb by the key;
Til win the war or break a leg.
VOL. 8, NO. 26
—Walt Mason.

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