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FARMERS' UNION AT THE WHITE HOUSE
south lawn of the White House
AN INFORMAL PHOTOGRAPH OF THE JAPANESE CABINET Here we see, in an informal group, Premier Hara of Japan and members of his Cabinet. The photograph was made at the Premier's home in Tokyo during a reception to foreign newspaper correspondents. Left to right: The Minister of Finance, Mr. Takahashi: the Minister of Communications, Mr. Noda: Premier Hara: the Minister of Railways, Mr. Motoda; the Minister of Home Affairs, Mr. Tokunami: the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Count Uchida (seated); the Minister of the Navy. Baron Kato (in uniform the Minister of Agriculture Mr Vamamotn. and the
Sport-Commercial Photographic Service
A SURF-CASTING TOURNAMENT
A MOTOR BOAT THAT CRUISES AT EXPRESS-TRAIN SPEED The fifty-foot cruiser Gar Jr. II won the cruiser championship at the recent regatta at Miami. After the races were over she started back for her home in Detroit via the Atlantic Ocean, the Hudson River, the Erie Canal, and the Great Lakes, She made the voyage from Miami to New York in 47 hours 23 minutes running time, 21 minutes faster than the elapsed time of the express train between these two points. The Gar Jr. II is equipped with two twelve-cylinder engines which develop a total of about 880 horse-power. Below decks she has all the comforts and conveniences required on a cruiser of her length. Automobilists who think that their gasoline bills are excessive are informed that this boat burns up one and one-half gallons of gasoline per
mile. At top speed she can travel nearly forty-five miles an hour
THE OUTLOOK'S SECOND PRIZE CONTEST
“WHAT THE WORLD WAR DID TO ME”
A HUMAN RECORD IN INTIMATE LETTERS
PARADE of sober introspection an old-fashioned mourners' bench. Super- second, with 43; Massachusetts entered marched to our doors in answer ficial patter was notably absent. The 37, Pennsylvania 35, Ohio 34, and Illi
to our call for letters on the sub- serious note was powerfully sounded at nois 33. Forty-seven States and Canada ject of "What the World War Did to times; we had urged the contestants to were represented. Me." We asked our readers to tell us get down to realities, and they did All kinds of people came to confes of the spiritual earthquakes that rever- often with morbid exactness, and asked sion. One was a rear-admiral of the berated through them during the con- that their names be not divulged.
United States Navy; another was a jusflict, what scars the war inscribed upon But gloom and cynicism did not pre- tice of the Supreme Court of Kansas. their characters, what changes and dominate. Hundreds of letters were There were bank presidents and manusubtle reactions it caused.
luminous with spiritual exaltation, and facturers, army officers and service men, The first of our prize contests called told in buoyant language of the depres- editors and laborers. College presidents, for criticisms of The Outlook, and re- sion and tension of the war.
professors, students, and country schoolsulted in "amateurs' night" at the edi. A total of 544 contestants entered, teachers flocked to the contest. A portorial council table. The present contest against 401 who competed in the first trait painter portrayed what the war rapidly developed into a psychological contest. New York proved to be the had done to her; a Greenwich Village clinic. It was an extraordinary experi. most introspective State in the Union, art student abandoned her easel for her ence meeting that sometimes resembled entering 85 contestants. California was writing-pad; one letter came from the
Friars' Club in New York, and one from Zion City; fiction writers left off writing stories to write us facts. A linotype
operator dashed off a contribution on PRIZE CONTEST NUMBER TWO
the typesetting machine.
TOO INTIMATE EVEN FOR PEN NAME From New York's Tenderloin to re mote prairie parsonages came these engrossing records of changes inflicted by the conflict. Metropolitan ministers and army chaplains wrote with candor that has never sounded from their pulpits. Physicians rolled their experiences into epistolary pills. A woman in Providence, Rhode Island, submitted a vigor ous letter, and a few days later ordered it withdrawn from the contest and destroyed, since it was "too intimate an admission to appear even over a pseudonym."
Many thanked us for giving them an opportunity to write these letters; to express the inner turmoil helped them. Many put their emotions into original verse. Many, in their search for expression, quoted poets and others— nearly every one from Socrates to Irvin Cobb. They went to Browning, Burns, Wordsworth, Lamb, Cowper, Ruskin, and Kip ling. They leaned upon Tolstoy, Mira. beau, Nietzsche, Goethe. The groping for adequate expression led to Long. fellow, Whittier, Lowell, Abraham Lincoln, Lyman Abbott, Hermann Hagedorn, and Sinclair Lewis. Barrie and Hune ker were invoked. Sir Oliver Lodge was cited. Statements by Woodrow Wilson and President Harding were marshaled.
If this contest has done nothing more, it has sent hundreds back to the poets. Browning's "God's in his heaven, all's right with the world” was quoted often
est, with Sherman's "War is hell" a persistent second.
BROMIDES VIE WITH REALITIES Many of the letters were remarkable for their genuineness. But the platitudinarians had their day. Such phrases as “vaunted civilization," "saw red," "flower of our manhood,” and “torch of liberty" often bobbed familiarly into view.
Some contestants, in their eagerness, forgot to write on the subject of the contest and submitted essays on Wilson's policies, discourses on the strategies of Foch, dissertations on political economy, theses on the Negro problem, and tabloid histories of civilization.
The religious note was sounded in the majority of the letters; a note of bitter cynicism crept into others. Some confessed that the war drove them into the ministry; others, that the war drove them out of it. Hardened newspaper reporters described their passionate love of country. “Disappointingly unchanged," writes one of the few who experienced no spiritual earthquakes; another "never even mailed a letter to France."
The war taught thrift, loyalty, patriotism, courage, thoughtfulness, and sympathy. It taught geography and love of books. It made "citizens of the world.” One contestant was stricken with apoplexy; another's hair turned white; some were infected with tuberculosis. "It has made an American out of me,” recurs repeatedly. Many learned for the first time in their lives to hate.
one who has los
"THE MIDNIGHT OF MY LIFE"
us with candor of their faith that divine she was afraid to go downstairs after "I can no longer pray;" "For me the intervention would keep their sons and the lights were out, but that now she war will never be over;" "I am weary, husbands from falling in battle.
goes all over in the dark and sometimes unhappy, restless, and adrift;" "It "It made me lose my interest in re late at night she even goes “to the back robbed me of much of my capacity for ligion; the war stopped me from going porch to get something from the icesympathy, kindness, and love;" "I am to all places of amusement. When I see box." more nervous and my appetite for to people dancing, I feel like rebuking
REALISM OF THE TRENCHES bacco, liquor, and the ladies has in them. ... It seems as though all the The reactions of men who were in the creased,” are various statements of ner. feeling had been drained from every- fighting are vividly portrayed. “Before vous depression. “This is the midnight thing else and had been embodied in me. the war," confides a Pennsylvanian, “the of my life,” says one whose business has I find I cannot get over the war. I am sight of blood made me shudder. I gone to smash. “Things I once held morbid, grief-stricken, inconsolable," became an aviator, and watched, tigerdear are now pitifully cheap," expresses confesses one.
like, all the movements of a group of the disillusionment of one writer. An anonymous New Yorker who wrote Germans, fondled tenderly the bomb in "Would my patriotism induce me to buy his contest letter on Hotel Claridge sta. my hands; my whole body trembled lest another Liberty Bond? Never!” writes tionery and claims to be the pastor of something untoward should turn up and
one of the largest metropolitan churches, spoil my kill.” try. “The war pulled me up by the confesses that the war destroyed his be "Had I not been afraid of the scorn roots: my health is shattered; I am an lief in God, his faith in Christ, in the of my brother officers and the scoffs of irritable pessimist. There are no holy
Church, and in human nature, and my men, I would have fled to the rear," wars-no government has a right to bereft him of his belief in himself. “The confesses a Wisconsin officer, writing of draft a man to fight," states another. war taught me to hate; it disjointed my a battle. “I see war as a horrible, grasp
theology," writes a Cleveland clergyman. ing octopus with hundreds of poisonous, CONFESSIONS FROM CLERGYMEN "It furnished my heart with a proud sor- death-dealing tentacles that squeeze out Theologies were disrupted and rebuilt. Sow," writes a Pennsylvania clergyman, the culture and refinement of a man," A Presbyterian minister writes: "Men whose son was killed in battle. “War, writes a veteran. of knotted hearts are not attracted by always futile, lacks purifying power and A regimental sergeant-major: "I coneasy things. Jesus has been thought of brings about no true progress," one con- sidered myself hard-boiled and acted the as 'dear' and 'precious' Jesus. And it testant laments. “We have lost the tone part toward everybody, including my has not appealed to men. Men did not of our women. Mothers throw their wife. I scoffed at religion as unworthy follow a 'dear Lincoln, a 'dear' Roose- daughters at the heads of soldiers in an of a real man and a mark of the sissy velt, a 'dear' Foch, but men will follow ecstasy of patriotism," complains an and weakling." Before going over the a rugged, granite, and majestic Christ.” Atlanta woman.
top for the first time he tried to pray, "For the first time in my life I One woman finds comfort in a knowl. but had even forgotten the Lord's learned that the greatest test of char- edge that her brother, wounded in the Prayer. acter is what we do when we know we war, is now at home nights instead of "If I get out of this, I will never be will not be found out," concludes an getting into entanglements. Another unhappy again," reflected one of the conother Presbyterian minister. Many told naïvely confesses that before the war testants under shell fire in the Argonne Forest. To-day he is "not afraid of all foreigners in America and that he
FIRST PRIZE dead men any more and is not in the hates the term "melting-pot," while a least afraid to die." Harvard Master of Arts admits that he
66 DEATH BECAME A “I went into the army a conscientious can never be a good democrat again.
FRIEND” objector, a radical, and a recluse....I From British Columbia: “We are a
BY LEE RAMSDELL came out of it with the knowledge of small people living small lives in a farmen and the philosophy of beauty," says off corner of the world. But for once we I was in France in 1917-19, first workanother.
lived. We can never be quite so small 1 ing with the French refugees, then "My moral fiber has been coarsened. again."
in American hospitals. I went there The war has blunted my sensitiveness to A Kansas woman was drawn into a snob. I got over it. The uniform was human suffering. In 1914 I wept tears strenuous Red Cross work by a letter the great leveler. For once we humans of distress over a rabbit which I had from a dying soldier urging her to carry looked into each other's eyes, not at shot. I could go out now at the com- on. An Illinois woman "learned to dic- each other's rags or Rolls-Royces. It mand of my Government in cold blooded tate pamphlets and speeches while six was a liberal education. The fineness fashion and commit all the barbarisms typewriters banged about me. I came that existed in rough, uneducated men, of twentieth-century legalized murder," out of the war knowing how to work, the guts that developed in pampered writes a Chicago man.
not only one day, but every day and all pets, was unbelievable. Now that it's A Denver man entered the war, lost day and all night if necessary.” A over, shall we be able to keep on seeing himself and God, and found manhood.Texas woman found that "it is terribly the man instead of the manicure? "I played poker in the box car which important to our Nation what the aver- Life, trouble, even death, seem less carried me to the front and read the age American woman thinks and feels." momentous than they did. The only Testament in the hospital train which "The war has brought the rest of the real calamity is not to meet life galtook me to the rear," he tells us.
world to us, has given us the world for lantly. I remember the troop trains of "To disclose it all would take the our home, instead of 'Main Street,'" Americans hip-hurrahing past our hosgenius and the understanding of a god. I comes from North Dakota.
pital on their way to the front, and the learned to talk from the side of my A Tacoma physician ably phrased the ambulance trains slipping quietly back mouth and drink and curse with the new sense of devotion to the home with them, very silent. A terrible Jugrest of our 'noble crusaders.' Authority which the war deeply impressed upon gernaut had rolled over those eager infuriated me and the first suspicion of many. "The pathos of distance, almost boys; but had it crushed them? Not an order made me sullen and danger- as if by death, made me know that noth- they! They climbed on top and made it ous. . . . Each man in his crudeness and ing in life could take the place of home,” carry them along! One man suffered lewdness nauseated me," writes a service he writes. “I learned that there are agonies for months in the hope of savman.
unimaginable treasures of kindness and ing a shattered leg. His cot backed REACTIONS OF STAY-AT-HOMES
goodness in men and women. ... It re- against rough boards that smelled of "When our boy came back," complains
vealed hidden traits of character in my Dakin Solution, and gas gangrene, and a mother, "we could hardly recognize
wife as fine as those of the heroines of fog from the muddy fields outside. But history."
when he talked his room became a drawfor our strong, impulsive, loving son
The war drove in the lesson of thrift; whom we had loaned to Uncle Sam this
ing-room, with sunshine pouring in, and one "learned to eat horse-meat with irritable, restless, nervous man with de
apple blossoms. And when, months later fective hearing from shells exploding all
relish." A Massachusetts woman“patched in Paris, I met him on crutches, the leg
impossible B. V. D.'s.” “The war made gone, he joked about it until he fairly about him, and limbs aching and twitching from strain and exposure, and with
us out-grandmother our grandmothers in persuaded us that he was glad to have
point of thrift," claims one. A Rhode the thing off. And I can still see a young that inevitable companion of all returned
Island woman discovered that skill in French convalescent, his right sleeve oversea boys, the coffin-nail, between his
cake-making counted for more than teeth."
empty to the shoulder, swinging past us "In the army I found that hard
familiarity with the classics. “It taught down the Champs, so erect and debonair drinkers and fast livers and profane
the dignity of old clothes," recurs often. that I almost envied him that badge of
"The war doubled my income within honor. Of such metal were our armies. tongued men often proved to be the kindest-hearted, squarest friends one
the last twelvemonth and is going to And, lastly, I came to realize that
double it again within the next few death was not the end. Oh, yes, I could ever have," one woman reports. “'You lost an arm?' asked a woman of years," boasts a South Dakotan.
learned it as a child; but when my father a soldier. 'No, I gave it,' he returned,
Many women were enriched spiritu- died I only knew that he was gone, proudly. If patriotism can breed such
ally by discovering something to do. blown out like a candle. Where? Who an answer from a man who has known
One of them now runs "a restaurant knew? No one. Death was a solitary.
for undernourished children and a club terrifying thing. But in France it bethe hell of blood and exploding shells,
where sixty young aliens nightly meet came a friend. Poor tortured boys would then war must have some soul-growing
men and women of broader opportunity. feel a blessed surcease from pain and process," she concludes.
The war has shown me my work and look up to find the Great Physician at Numerous letters came from women
trained me for it. Thousands have had their side, bringing merciful rest and whose husbands or sons were killed in
the same experience," she declares. the supreme healing. Death was a daily battle. One wife lost her soldier-hus
An amazing record of changed lives commonplace. Lads were here to-day band to a French girl; a poignant companion letter describes the tragedy of a
is this pile of chronicles of the war. It and to-morrow gone, but their spirits
is a startling panorama of what war were too young and alive and vivid to soldier who returned home to find his
does to the human spirit. It contains vanish with the body, even after we wife devoted to another man and lost
enough plots for a shelf of novels. had seen the flag-draped coffins lowered to him.
One remarkable thing about these 544 into the ground at "Taps." They were SOCIAL BARRIERS VANISH
letters is the fact that they disclose so close and real that at times I felt Friendship thrived as the result of the that so many people are able to write that I had more friends in the unseen war. A North Carolina woman became with candor and vitality about them world than in this. It sounds silly, but acquainted with every white person and selves. They reveal, on the whole, a it's true. . . . And so, when I came home nearly every colored one in her town. breaking away from traditions of and my own mother died I did not lose ship. One left her snobbishness in the thought and conduct, a new concern her, as I had my father. She sits in first hospital ward she entered. Judging with realities, an escape from ruts, a the sunny east window with her mend. from these letters, there are enormous more rugged sense of comradeship with ing, or we stroll together in the garden quantities of snobbishness on America's one's fellows. These letters reveal a and I cry: "Mother, see how lovely side-tracks for which there is no further diminished respect for conventional in your roses are, but what ails those use. But exceptions are also noted. One stitutions and heightened respect for sweet peas? What would you do with ays the war has ruined his respect for men and women.
them?” During her sickness her little