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Vol. XXV—No 44.
|T CAME from days of strife and blood, i When passion filled the Nation’s veins, It g'rew and flourished in the flood Of Freedom’s bright and higher aims. In sorrowing hearts the love was born That bloomed into a custom dear, For like the sparkling dew of morn It freshens memory with a tear. The passing years are shure to bring The hour of death to those we love, Each jewell froih the broken ring; • Is added to the crown above. We grasp in faith the golden chain; For after all that can be said, Of all the memories we retain, The sweetest ones are of the dead. We hear the sound of fife and drum That leads the tottering forms of blue; Among the passing hosts that come, We note the little patriots too. Yes, all are marching out to-day, God’s smile of sunshine overhead, With flowers and flags, in love to lay Their tribute, on the cherished dead, Bring out the flags of stars and bars! Forsaken emblem of their day, And twine them with the stripes and stars, To drape the graves of blue and gray. For if beyond the cloud that hides, Our eyes could pierce the mystic veil, We’d find that there no thought divides; No bitterness can there prevail. J L’ Envoi • Alone we sit with saddened heart, 2 • Like driftwood of the years gone by, I And sigh because we have no part I Beyond the vision of our eye. I We cannot join your May Day throng', S To offer flowers or mingle tears, • Our tribute is this little song', | From hearts whos day’s are full of years. MEMORIAL DAY. Today, May 30th, in the north, the east, the west and even in the south, is the day set apart in com memoration of the nation’s departed soldiers; a custon which has been in effect since the close of the Civil The idea of setting apart one day of the year to do honor to deceased veterans was first originated in the south. They set aside April 27th as the Confederate Memorial Day. Almost immediately the northern states adopted the same custom and designated May 30th as their Me morial Day. Memorial Day! How much those two words mean! In 1861 war was declared by President Lincoln against the seceding states of the south. For four long years the war lasted; men fighting for what they thought was right, neither side giv ing a thought to the suffering of the other. Brother was pitted against brother; father against son. Many and many a home was entirely dis rupted. , The states of the north were en deavoring to abolish slavery and make the nation a body of states in separable. The states of the south wanted to retain their slaves and have a republic of their own. Pic ture if you can the horror of this conflict. Blood flowed as water; • • EDITED AND PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY THE INMATES OF THE MINNESOTA STATE PRISON •MH l>)ay By Gayhoppin By J. A. 0. clothing was scarce; food, besides being scarce, was poor; homes of the south were destroyed; disease on every hand. There was joy in the south as well as the, north when peace was declared. During this conflict there were killed on the battlefield 57,058; died of wounds 50,012; killed by acci dent, murder etc., 40,154 and 199,- 728 died from disease, making a total of 349,944 deaths in the four years. And so, today, wherever you may be in this United States you will see women, some old gray haired wives and sweethearts, some daughters and some granddaughters wending their way slowly towards the cemetery, their arms laden with flowers, to decorate the grave of some loved one who gave his life in defense of what he thought was right. What a scene this presents! The wife or sweetheart meeting by a grassy mound, tears streaming from their eyes, placing these remember ances. Not alone are these women. Far in the distant one hears the ; souud of the drum and fife, behind which march men old and gray, but with head erect and a soldierly step, marching to this same cemetery. The men in those ranks fought and suffered the same as their dead comrades, but they are able to come and pay them tribute. On each grave they place a small flag of the United States and with bowed head, slowdy turn away to hide their tears. Not alone are the ones who IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO MEND. STILLWATER, MINNESOTA, THURSDAY, MAY 30, 1912. fought in the ranks of the north re membered. Far be it from these soldiers to forget the “reb.” There are always flowers enough for them too and also a flag. Though their friends in life may be far away, or know not where theirgrave may be, there? is always some one to garland their last resting place. When viewing all this sadness, one stops and asks one's self was that war Avorth the misery it has caused. So to, each and every day of this mighty conflict, President Lincoln asked the same question, QOt of himself, but of llim who Avatches over us all. If one has visited the southern states and viewed some of the ruins of mansions and dwellings of stone, they wonder why the people of the south Avere so stubborn as to not see what Avould be the outcome. It Avas not stubbornness. They fought because they thought they - were in the right. Wherever you are on May 30th, or April 27th, stop and raise your hat, if nothing more, to these departed veterans. DON’T GROW DISGOURAGED! There are three words in the dictionary more appropriate for a person in trouble to adhere to than the above. In days of oppression is the time to exhibit manliness And courage. When one has erred and is being punished therefor is no time to lose heart. Keep your head up and look your fate square in the face. Remorse naturally procures a hold on all that are in trouble but never let your worrying’s become of an acute nature. Be complacent and content and live in hope. lie who cannot smile in days of adversity has little license to enjoy days of prosperity. To many of us, figura tively speaking, the world may look a blank, but if you stop to think of the great changes that aie wrought in a few years you will think differ ently. If you have not began to outline your future when you are divorced from the prison, you should begin at once. Of course, opportu nity is one of the greatest words in the vocabulary, but to him who has golden opportunities without good moral courage and resolutions, suc cess will not materialize as quickly and permanently as to him who has only law-abiding resolutions. Make your good resolutions before you enter the world a free man again and live up to them —no matter what may happen av d sunshine will eventually favor you. Always try to be of good cheer and Avhatever you do Don’t Grow Discouraged. Arion SISTERS The eyes that once reflected puri ty of soul and shone like midnight stars have, lost their luster, and the complexion of a rose blush that fad ed and died has been replaced ith cosmetics by the deft manipulations of a beauty specialist. The midnight hour generally finds her the center fashions throng, for it is then that the brilliancy of diamonds the sense of de cency. The insipid remarks of fash ions youth, mingled with the pop ping of champagne corks, drowns the pitiful cry of her infant in the nursery, as a French nurse tries to substitute the mother love that the little one begs. At an early hour of the sacred day when the break of dawn steals in and reveals the remnants of a colos sal mansion ball, she stands in her artificial beauty, mid the silence of her boudoir and listens to the far off chime of the Cathedral bells as they try to awaken the teachings of her girl-hood. The pure love of wed-lock lives not in the heart of this society queen or her master. He pays with gold for the caresses that she spareingly bestows upon him. Occasionally, a letter from the old folks finds its way within the por tals of this mansion, but the tender love, penned by the hand of a rustic mother and the home-spun principle that read betweeu the lines, touch not the heart of her who lives for position alone. She has long forgot the mother love that rocked her to dreamland in baby days, but some times, the voice that sang lullibys to her seems to echo across the span of years, and a blush of shame bows her proud head. She dares not in vite the old folks to her city mansion for the rustic manners of these sim ple folk would not blend with the polished imitation of her class. But some day, she knows not when, the tinsel idoletry that she worships, will crumble and kneeling in the ashes of her idols she will im plore Christ to lead her back to mother and the little home among the hills where all is peace and rest. IIEU SISTER Purity lives enshrined in the soul and heart of this rural lassie. She knows not the iniquity that breeds with each throb of the city’s life; she has never stood beneath the sickly glare of a “great white way” and gazed upon the pasty countenance of a mighty multitude that exists as parasites. Back in the country vil lage midst the purity of Cod’s sun shine and the perfume of mother nature, she hears not the bitter wail of a city’s degredation. She knows not the bitter jealousy that burns in the heart of her city sister, for the shallow deception that glosses the “upper crust” and mantels the vanity of democracy has never tainted the purity of her thoughts. When the village church bells peal out the echo of Christ teachings, her simple heart answers in cadence to the Hosanna. Her happy laugh echos through the valley and greets the rising of the sun. The softness of her voice, as she pleads her evening prayers, seems to lullaby the birds to rest and to close the petals of the flowers in the dell. The sweet tune of the meadow larks, mingled with the scent of na tures glory, have touched the sacred chord of love down deep in her heart, and some day, the voice of an hon est man will open the flood-gates of her angelic soul, and shower him with the blessings of & pure woman’s love. “Prisoner at the bar, I find you have been sentenced to prison twice before. What have you to say why I should not send you there again?” “I urge, your Honor, the generally accepted feeling against a third term.” —Baltimore American. _ t SI.OO a Year GMonths Fifty Cts. GUILD LABOR W. C. Van D It is hard to think that any human being would descend to such depths of moral degradation as to exploit the lives of little children for gain. Where is the one-time boasted chivalry of the South, when it al lows its cotton mills to be filled with stunted wrecks of childhood and fat tens on the sweat and blood that oozes from the baby fingers at the looms? When one thinks of the ease with which the physical or mor al welfare of the child may be dwarfed, it is fearful to contemplate the effect on future generations of the mal-employment of children of today. The most valuable crop that any state can raise is healthy children and no money or labor should be spared to conserve, in every way, the welfare, both physical and moral, of the growing generation. All hopes for the future depend on the children of the race and if we gain in everything else and lose out in that, the doom of the nation is seal ed. Nothing can save a people who neglect to adequately protect its children —even the children of its poorest aud most despised. The children of the poor are perhaps the very ones worth saving th_£_niost. It is the children of the poor, when given a fair chance for healthy development, that became the pi oneers of civilization and the lead- ers in great movements for social good. Just think of what the state of Minnesota would have lost if our late Governor had been, in his baby years, exploited in a cotton mill! and what would our whole nation have lost if Abraham Lincoln had wore out his early life by unremitting drudgery! At every crisis in the history of the world it is the children of the poor who have stepped into the breach and pointed out the way to reedom. Conserve the child, then, if it takes the whole resorces of the state to do it and future generations will call him wise who said: “whatever it cost we must aud will preserve the children.” There is no argument that I have ever seen advanced in favor of child labor that would hold water for an instant. Every argument that has ever been brought out has as its basis money profit; sometimes for the parent, but always for the exploiter. Even if is true that the parents some times reap a small amount by selling 'the health of their children, it re veals a hideous sore in our body politic and one that should be im mediately eradicated. The real cause of child labor is the greed of the manufacturer, sup plemented by the neglect of the state to provide adequate protection and support for the child. Child labor is a curse to the very poor whom it has the effrontery to say it benefits, as by the employ ment of children, adults'are forced into idleness. Nothing would so quickly benefit labor as the absolute prohibition of child labor in all its forms. The new children’s bureau, estab lished at Washington, will do much to help the cause, but drastic legis lation must come soon. If this is not done —we see the sowing now — some future generation will reap a fearful harvest.