TTTE SUNDAY OREGONIAX, PORTLAND, SEPTE3IBER 21, 1919.
IP MtfJ f
L - ' - ' i .4 III
- X
The Rev. Br. A. M. Young,
Bachelor, Has an Opinion, and
Expresses It Very Plainly, About
the Modern Ame7ican Girl
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HERE ARE SOME OF DR. YOUNG'S REASONS WHY
"Women today are like the troubled sea ever restless, tossing about. "
"Women have gone socially and financially crazy."
"Money that's the kernel of every woman's happiness. Women are
calculating, mercenary."
"The modern girl is too selfish. She expects enormous returns froni
matrimony with scarcely any investment on her part"
BT HELEN HOFFMAN.
EVEN in an era of many questions
surely this is vital. Why don't
men marry? I have heard many
mothers of marriageable daughters ask
this question with concern, as they
view with alarm" the increasing num
ber of eligible bachelors who are loath
to exchange their independence for
what many of them term "marriage
elavery."
Of course, at the same time, there are
thousands of attractive girls, with a
finishing school education and inde
pendent Incomes and also girls with
professional and business resources
that render them financially independ
ent of matrimony, who are no less
skeptical of parting with their freedom
than the men are.
But as men still have the privilege
cf doing the asking, the reason for the
present state of things is one that is
plainly "up to the, men" to explain. '
I know scores o'f bachelors with in
comes sufficient to support a wife in
comfort, if not in luxury. Many of
these men have cars, motor boats, coun
try homes which marry of them have
Inherited. handsome apartments in
tcwn, and everything. If they chose
to marry, any girl ought to be exceed
ingly happy as a partner in these
things.
But that's the rub. These roan are
not askinf girls to share these com
forts and pleasures with them.
One has only to consult the lists of
fashionable men's club3 today to note
the ever-increasing number of bache
V lors men representative of the busi
ness, professional, financial and social
world.
Formerly a bachelor was an object of
sympathetic interest in the eyes of his
married friends. To ease his loneliness
they took turns at inviting him to their
homes and frequently they would exert
themselves trying to find him a matri
monial partner.
These Independent Days.
But today things are different. The
bachelor has his own men friends and
his happiness and comfort are not de
pendent on any woman. In fact, he
manages to have a splendid time with
out her. He has his numerous clubs
and many interests. Besides, the war
has done much to develop the social
Instinct in man.
I know scores of bachelors who did
not go to France, who have rendered,
at the same time, a wonderful service
to humanity. The war developed their
sense of brotherly love, and in doing
for others they found high satisfac
tion and no time to give to the thought
of matrimony.
A man whos-j heart is so big and
whe se sense of service for others is so
generous, it would seem, would be an
ideal subject for matrimony.
Why is it, then, that men, warm
hearted, big. generous men who are
not grumpy or grouchy or nursing some
unfortunate love affair who. in a
word, have not turned the cold shoulder
on humanity, can work faithfully for
others and yet reject the great love
that has inspired artists and poets?
A Typical "case.
Let me take a typical case. Among
this number of young and middle-aged
men who have sacrificed personal
plsasure and business interests and
have unselfishly devoted themselves
for the past year or two to the pressing
1 -I
Rev. A.
M. Yonnr, bachelor, who uralKU
era YU( Women.
needs of war work here at home, is the
Rev. A. M. Toung.
Perhaps among the big number of
interesting bachelors in New York City
none is better known for the splendid
work he has done throughout the war
period than Dr. Young.
For nearly a year and a half Dr.
Young, who is a your.g Baptist clergy
man, assistant pastor of a flourishing
church in New Jersey, has devoted
practically all of his time to the entire
management of a big clubhouse for sol
diers, sailors and marines, known as
the Volunteers of America Service Club
and War Hut, in New York.
In spite of his strenuous life as pas
tor of churches in Boston, Syracuse and
Now Jersey, lecturer, organizer of boys'
clubs and former warm supporter of
the late Colonel Roosevelt in the pro
gressive campaign of 1912, Dr. Young
Is .still a young man, slightly over SO.
He haa the rlan-cut feature and
jaunty build of the athlete.
A Friend Indeed.
His kindliness and humane qualities
have made him tremendously popular
with the boys in uniform. And not
on.y the boys alone, for judging from
the thousands of letters he has received
from the mothers and relatives of these
boys who have passed through his club
his popularity extends to the very
household of thousands of American
families.
Except in some emergency, when an
Immediate piece of work has to be
done at the club, and there is no avail
able person to do it, and Dr. Young
rolls up his silk shirt-sleevs and at
tends to it, he is always perfectly
groomed. He is a member of a dozen
AT HIS SERVICE CLUB IX MEW YORK COt'PLES HAVE DR. YOIXCS FILL
SYMPATHY.
well-known clubs. Including athletic
social and political clubs, and at his
beautiful estate at Picton, near Ottawa,
Canada, which he has not been able to
eitjoy for two years because of his war
work. Dr. Young does not hesitate to
take a hand at farm work,, if the rv
ctfulty arises.
No one can charge a man. who has
the care of a clubhouse, including every
comfort from bed to bath and' res
taurant to recreation hall, with being
devoid of a home sense.
"I expect to marry some day," said
Dr. Young frankly. "I am not opposed
to matrimony, but for a happy marriage
one must choose the right girl. So far
I haven't met her."
"Then the reason lies with the wom
an?" I Inquired.
"Most certainly," he said. "There are
thousands of unmarried men I know
who feel the same way toward matri
mony that I do."
"And that is V I asked.
Mea Are Afraid.
"They are afraid of it. They have
a horror of Inviting an experience that
may put them through matrimonial
bankruptcy. No man could suffer a
worse fate than this that is to say a
young, ambitious man couldn t-
"Man is conservative by nature. The
appalling number of divorces today is
rendering him more and more cautious
about involving himself in a situation
which may drag him through a divorce
court, with all its attendant unpleasant
notoriety. Men starting on their career
or having made a success of their Uvea
so far, have learned from the unfor
tunate experiences of their married
friends that such advertising has not
only served to shatter their careers in
some Instances, but has broken their
lives to such an extent that only re
morse can be the result.
"Man is a creature of comfort and
he hates fuse and trouble. That is why
so often he permits his wife to divorce
him without any protest on his part.
"Women today are like the troubled
sea ever restless, tossing about. They
aren t satisfied till they get what they
want and then when they get it they
frequently do not want It.
"The women today have gone socially
'and financially crazy," said Dr. Young.
"The homely, old-fashioned interests of
their mothers and grandmothers do no
appeal to them. The theater, cabaret,
dog show, cat show, horse show or any
old kind of a show are the things that
interest them.
"And money! That's the kernel of
every woman's happiness today or what
she regards as happiness until she finds
out too late that she is just another
victim of the deplorably false standards
of our present day rational life.
"To illustrate my point, I may refer
you to a heartbroken young naval of
ficer who came to me the other day
with a letter from the girl he had been
engaged to for more than a year. This
letter, received shortly after his return
from France, broke his heart. It told
him that the girl was to be married
in three days to a man much older than
herself, who had wealth and social po
sition. And the writer added, with cold
business concern: In spite of the fact
that I love' you better than any one in
the world, and always shall. I must
think of the future.'
"That's the keynote." added Dr
Young, "to the whole miserable exist-
enee that we live today. Women are
calculating, mercenary. They are not
willing to take chances with a fine fel
low who loves them and whom they
love like the good old-faehloned mar
riages our mothers made. The majority
of marriages today are loveless mar
riages. How can women expect hap
piness when they sell themselves in
marriage 'for the artificial pleasures
that money can buy?
"How can a man know that a woman
is marrying him because she wants him
rather than the more splendid support
he can give her than her family?
The Girl and the Hone.
"Do you wonder that men are more
cautious about marrying today? Is it
because men are more selfish, because
they prefer their clubs and are afraid
they wIlW have to make some sacrifice
if married? Not a bit of it! They axe
merely afraid of the average girl who
demands ao much and gives so little in
return. My idea of a girl who would
make an ideal wife and I have heard
thousands of unmarried men echo the
same sentiment Is a girl who loves her
home, who Is enough interested in the
welfare of the man she marries to spend
a few evenings a week at home with
him, who doesn't nag him and make
him unhappy because he often is too
tired from his work to run about t
places of amusement with her.
"I suppose there are some such girls
in the world and that eventually
bachelors like myself may meet them
and marry them, but I believe the big
number of bachelors today are bach
elors because of the reasons I htvi
named. In fact. I am quite sure of it
"I believe the woman who has the
Interests of her husband at heart and
who loves her home better than she
does a cabaret, will seldom have any
fault to find with her husband.
The Modern Girl la Srlflah.
"But the trouble with the modern girl
is that she is too selfish, too self-centered.
She expects enormous returns
from matrimony, with scarcely any in
vestment on her part. On the other
hand, so many women who decry what
they please to call 'the slave state of
their mothers." are announcing their
economic and political independence
from soap boxes and lecture platforms.
Well, men won't Interfere with their
plans. But all these abnormal stand
ards make for the unrest and misery is
the world today.
"Women themselves must change
these standards if we are to have a
sound national life and if humanity is
to make any progress," continued Dr.
Young. "Women have n.nlimited power
and influence over men, either for good
or evil. When women begin to realize
the profound misery we have today be
cause they have made money their god
and that they have sacrificed every
thing worth while to worship this Idol,
they will perhaps feel the need of a
necessary reform coming from their
sex .
"I think this is all due to a lack of
education or rather a wrong education
of our young women. They lead nar
row, artificial lives. They don't get the
real meaning of life."
As Dr. Young discussed this subject,
I recalled one cynical bachelor of mid
dle age. who once gave as his reason
for not being married that women had
other interests today apart from pursu
ing men. which he said before woman's
economic emancipation, suffrage, and
all the rest, they did In self-defense,
this being the only calling open to
them aside from a domestic servant's
job.
I asked Dr. Young if he regarded this
as an important factor in the Increasing
number of bachelors.
The Money Question.
"Undoubtedly." he said, "It has some
thing to do with it. But the chief rea
son why men are not rushing madly
into matrimony is due to the causes I
have stated. No man wants constantly
to be haunted by the fear of maintain
ing his social position, the fame and re
sources he has earned, or run the risk
of losing the woman ho loves.
"I know a young officer who has just
returned from France. He has an in
come from his father's business of more
than $5000 a year. He said: 'I am
nearly 30 and yet I cannot afford to
marry. I couldn't support any of the
girls I know on $5000 a year."
"What a commentary on our modern
life! Of course, $5000 a year will not
buy motor cars, country palaces, social
leadership and prizes at a dog show,
but it would, with the right sort of girl,
buy happiness and supreme contentment
in a cozy, well-kept home, where there
is real love and not the artificial
brand."
THE DARK STAR BY CHAMBERS
(Copyright. 1917, by Robert "W. Chambers,
and copyright, 1916, 1917. by the Interna
tional Magazim company.)
(INSTALLMENT V.)
"W
de-
"Do I
HAT Americans?" she
manded incredulously.
you mean Weishelm?"
"Didn't you know there were Ameri
cans employed in the salle de Jeu?"
asked Neeland, surprised.
"No. I have not been In this house
for a year until I came tonight. This
place Is maintained by .the Turkish
government " She flashed a glance at
Sengoun "you're welcome to the in
formation now," she added contempt
uously. And then, to Neeland: "There
was, I believe, some talk in New York
about adding one or two Americans to
the personnel, but I opposed It."
"They're here," said Neeland drily.
"Do you know who they are?"
"Yes. There's a man called Doc
Curfoot "
"Who!"
And suddenly, Tor the first time, Nee
land remembered that she had been the
wife of one of the men beiow.
"Brandes and Stull are the others,"
he said mechanically.
The girl stared at him as though she
did not comprehend, and she passed one
hand slowly across her forehead and
eyes.
"Eddie Brandes' Here? And Stull?
Curfoot? Here in this house!"
"In the salon below."
"They can't be!" she protested in an
odd, colorless voice. They were
bought soul and body by the British
cecret service!'
All three stood staring at one an-
otheri the girl flushed, clenched her
hand, then let It fall by her side as
though utterly overcome.
The dry crack of a pistol cut her
short. Then, Instantly, in the dim
depths of the house, shot followed shot
in bewildering succession, faster, fast
er, filling the place with a distracting
tumult.
Neeland jerked up his pistol as a
nearer volley rattled out on the landing
directly underneath.
Sengoun, exasperated, shouted:
"Well, what the devil Is all this!" and
ran toward the head of the stairs, his
pistol lifted for action.
Then, in the garret doorway. Weis
helm appeared, his handsome face
streaming blood. He staggered, turned
mechanically toward the stairs again
with wavering revolver; but a shot
drive him blindly backward and an
other hurled him full length across the
flwir, where he lay with both arms
spread out, and the last tremors run
ning from his feet to his twitching
face.
Brandes, disengaging himself with a
Jerk, pushed his way past Sengoun to
where Use stood.
"I've got the goods on you!" he said
In a ferocious voice that neither Stull
nor Curfoot recognized. "You know
what you did to me. don't you! You
took my wife from me! Yes, my wife!
She was my wife! She is my wife! For
all you did, you lying, treacherous slut!
For all you've done . to break me,
double-cross me, ruin me, drive me out
of every place I went! And now I've
got you! I've sold you out! Get that?
And you know what they'll do to you,
don't you? Well, you'll see when "
Curfoot and Stull threw themselves
against him, but Brandes, his round
face pasty with fury, struggled back
again to confront Use Dumont.
"Ruined me!" lie reseated, "Took,
away from me the only thing God-ever
gave me for my own! Took my wife!"
"You dog!" said Use Dumont very
slowly. "You dirty dog!"
A frightful spasm crossed Brandes'
features, and Stull snatched at the pis
tol he had whipped out. There was a
struggle; Brandes wrenched the wea
pon free; but Neeland tore his way past
Curfoot and struck Brandes in the face
with the butt of his revolver.
Instantly the group parted right and
left; Sengoun suddenly twisted out of
the clutches of the men who held him,
sprang upon Curfoot and Jerked the
pistol from his fist. At the same mo
ment the entire front of the cafe gave
way and the mob crashed inward with
a roar amid the deafening din of shat
tered metal and the clash of splinter
ing glass.
Through the dust and falling shower
of debris, Brandes fired at Isle Du
mont. reeled about in the whirl of the
inrushing throng engulfing him, still
firing blindly at the woman who had
been his wife.
Neeland put a bullet into h!f pistol
arm and it fell. But Brandes stretched
it out again with a supreme effort,
pointing at Isle Dumont with jeweled
and bloody fingers:
"That woman is a German spy! A
spy!" he screamed. "You damn French
mutts, do you understand what I say!
Oh, my God! Will someone who speaks
French tell them! Will somebody tell
them she's a spy! La femme! Cette
femme!" he shrieked. "Elle est esplon!
Esp !" He fired again, with his left
hand. Then Sengoun shot him through
the head; and at the same moment
somebody stabbed Curfoot in the neck;
and the lank American gambler turned
and cried out to Stull in a voice half
strangled with pain and fury:
"Look out, Ben. There are Apaches
in this mob! That one in the striped
jersey knifed me "
"Tiens. Via pour toi. sale mec de
malheur!" muttered a voice at his el
bow, and a blow from a slung-shot
crushed the base of his skull.
As Curfoot crumpled, up Stull caught
him; but the tall gambler's dead weight
bore Stull to his knees among the
fierce apaches.
And there, fighting in silence to the
end. his chalky face of a sick clown
meeting undaunted the overwhelming
odds against him, Stull was set upon
by the apaches and stabbed and stabbed
until his clothing was a heap of rib
bons and the watch and Dacket of
French banknotes which the assassins
tore from his body were dripping with
his blood.
Sengoun and Neeland, their evening
clothes In tatters, hatless, disheveled,
began shooting their way out of the
hell of murder and destruction raging
around them.
Behind them crept Isle Dumont and
the Russian girl; dust and smoke ob
scured the place where the mob raged
from floor to floor In a frenzy of de
struction, tearing out fixtures, tele
phones, window-sashes, smashing
tables, bar fixtures, mirrors, ripping
the curtains from the windows and the
very carpets from the floor In their
overwhelming rage against, this Ger
man cafe.
That apaches had entered with them
the mob cared nothing; the red lust of
destruction blinded them to everything
except their terrible necessity for the
annihilation of this place.
If they saw murder done, and rob
bery If they heard shots in the tumult
and saw pistol flashes through the dust
and gray light of daybreak, they never
turned from their raging work.
Out of the frightful turmoil stormed
Neeland and Sengoun, their pistols
spitting flame, the two women clinging
to their ragged sleeves. Twice the
apaches barred their way with bared
knives, crouching for a rush; but Sen
goun fired Into them and Neeland'e
bullets dropped the ruffian in the
striped Jersey where he stood over
Stull's twitching body; and the sinister
creatures leaped back from the leveled
weapons, turned, and ran.
.Xhxousb. the saping doorway ; -sprang
Sengoun, his empty pistot menacing the
crowd that choked the shadowy street;
Neeland flung away his pistol and
turned his revolver on those In the
cafe behind him, as Use Dumont and
the Russian girl crept through and out
Into the street.
The crowd was cheering and Shout
ing: "Down with the Germane! To the
Brasserie Schwarz!"
Neeland had undressed, bathed his
somewhat battered body, and had then
thrown himself on the bed. fully in
tending to rise in a few moments and
await breakfast.
But it was a very weary young man
who stretched himself out for ten
minutes' repose. And, when again he
unclosed his eyes, the austere clock
on the mantel Informed him that it
was 6 not S o'clock in the morning
either.
He had slept through the first day
of general mobilization.
Across the lowered latticed blinds
late afternoon sunshine struck red.
The crests of the chestnut trees In
the rue Soleil .d'Or had turned rosy;
and a delicate mauve sky, so charac
teristic of Paris in early autumn, al
ready stretched above the city like a
frail tent of silk from which fragile
cobweb clouds hung,. .tinted with saff
ron and palest rose.
Hoisting the latteen shades, he
looked out through lace curtains Into
the most silent city he had ever be
held. Not that the streets and ave
nues were deserted; they swarmed
with hurrying, silent people and with
taxicabs.
Never had he seen so many taxicabs;
they streamed by everywhere, rushing
at high speed. They passed through
the rue Soleil d'Or; the rue de la Lune
fairly whizzed with them; the splendid
avenue was merely a vista of flying
taxls;and in every one of them there
was a soldier.
Otherwise, except for cyclists, there
seemed to be -very; few soldiers la
Paris an odd fact Immediately notice
able. Also there were no omnibuses to be
seen, no private automobiles, no elec
tric vehicles of any sort except great
gray army trucks trundling by with a
sapper at the wheel.
And. except for the whls and rush
of the motors and the melancholy si
ren blasts from their horns, an Immense
silence reigned in the streets.
There was no laughter to be heard,
no loud calling, no gay and animated
badinage. People who met and stopped
conversed in undertones; gestures were
sober and rare.
And everywhere. In the Intense still
ness. Red Cross flags hung motion
less In the late afternoon sunshine;
everywhere were poBted notices warn
ing the republic of general mobiliza
tion on dead walls, on tree boxes, on
kiosques, on bulletin boards, on the
facades of public and ftccleslastical
buildings.
Another ordinance which Neeland
could read from where he stood at the
wtndow warned all citizens from the
streets after S o'clock in the evening;
and on the closed iron shutters of
every shop In sight of his window were
pasted white strips of paper bearing,
in black letters, the same explanation:
"Ferme a cause de la mobilization."
Nowhere could he see the word "war"
printed or otherwise displayed. The
conspiracy of silence concerning it
seemed the more ominous.
Neeland looked up quickly from his
letter; then his face altered, and he
rose: but Rue Carew was already on
her feet: and she had lost most of her
color and her presence of mind too.
It seemed, for Neeland's arms were half
around her, and her hands were against
his shoulders.
Neither of them spoke; and he was
already amazed and rather scared at
his own Incredible daring already
terribly afraid of this slender, fragrant
creature who stood rigid and silent
within the circle of his arm. her head
lowered, her little, resisting hands
pressed convulsively against his
breast.
And after a long time the pressure
against his breast slowly relaxed; her
restless fingers moved nervously
against his- shoulders, picked at the
lapels of his coat, clung there a he
drew her head against his breast.
The absurd beating of his heart
choked him as he stammered her name;
he dropped his head beside her hot and
half hidden cheek. And. after a long,
long time, her face stirred on his
breast, turned a very little toward
him, and her young lips melted against
his.
So they stood through the throbbing
silence in the slowly darkening room,
while the street outside echoed with
the interminable trample of passing
cavalry, and the dim capital lay like a
phantom city under the ghostly lances
of the searchlights as though probing
all heaven to the very feet of God in
search of reasons for the hellish crlm
now launched against the guiltiest
motherland.
And high among the planets sped th
dark star, Erlik.wnseen by men. rush
ing through viewless Interstellai
space, hurled out of nothing by th
prince of hell into the nothing toward
which all hell is speeding, too: an
whither it shall one day fade and dis
appear and pass away forever.
"My darling"
"Oh. Jim I have loved you all mj
life." she whispered. And her yount
arms crept up and clung around hii
neck.
"My darling Rue my little Rue Ca
re w '
Outside the window an officer als
spoke through the unbroken clatter oi
passing horsemen which filled thl
whole house with a hollow roar. Bir
she heard her lover's voice alone as it
a hushed and magic world; and in het
girl's enchanted ears his words wert
the only sounds that stirred a heavenly
quiet that reigned between the earti
and stars.
THE END, .