105

A WORD
WITH THE WOMEN

(By Elia W Peattie)

In Chicago at the smallest stores all
over the city whether they be devoted
to edibles or dry goods one sees this
sign. We close Thursdays at 1 o'clock
during the summer months." A lady
wrote me awhile ago that another attempt
was to be made to secure a half
holl lay for the Omaha clerks. I have
not heard whether any public meetings
have been held or not. The objection
usually offered by Omaha merchants to
a half holiday has been that Saturday
was the busiest day of the week and
that the country people and day workers
were in the habit of making Saturday
evening a gala occasion and of doing
most of their sight seeing at that time.
The merchants have said that not only
was Saturday the day of all days when
they could not close but also that if they
did close, they would destroy the old
custom of Saturday outing, common
alike to the working people of town and
country. All of this could be obviated
by introducing the Thursday half holiday.

Here is a poem by John Northern Hilliard
who is now editor of a paper in
Rochester N.Y. but who lived many
years on the western plains. It appeals
to us of the westward stretches.

Wind wail and water-drift,
And moaning of the sea,
A sweep of sky--a seagulls cry--
What are these things to me?

Wind screech and water-snarl,
And spindrift of the sea
As the spirit of the storm is born
In foaming agony

Wind fall and water drift
And sails that sand afar,
Like wings of birds that hover 'round
The sand dunes of the bar

Sea strains and ocean chants
My ears have never heard,
Not have they caught the minor chords
Of waves by wind hands stained

Sea sand and sky are not
For me are naught to me
Whose eyes have never gazed beyond
Dakotas sluggish boundary

Is it not curious how the soul of man
sickens for the sea. There is no place
in the world where the sunshine is
brighter than in Nebraska, no place
whole fields look fairer or where the
light gay air seems to lift the spirit
more gently on the wings of beauty and
of joy yet the sea must ever be dreamed
of longed for applied to

Why here in Chicago the waters of
Michigan stretch beyond the dirty roating
town as fields of Paradise reach
beyond the tumult of life and the eye
resting on them moistens with happy
tears at cognizance of so much beauty.

Water is the soul of the landscape
says Auerbach.

Six Thirty P.M. Train.
of the
CHICAGO
MILWAUKEE
& ST PAUL RY.
Best service
ELECTRIC LIGHTS.
Dining car
City office 1301 Furnam.

A WORD WITH THE WOMEN

(By Elia W Peattie)

In Chicago at the smallest stores all over the city whether they be devoted to edibles or dry goods one sees this sign. We close Thursdays at 1 o'clock during the summer months." A lady wrote me awhile ago that another attempt was to be made to secure a half holl [?] for the Omaha clerks. I have not heard whether any public meetings have been held or not. The objection usually offered by Omaha merchants to a half holiday has been that Saturday was the busiest day of the week and that the country people and day workers were in the habit of making Saturday evening a gala occasion and of doing most of their sight seeing at that time. The merchants have said that not only was Saturday the day of all days when they could not close but also that if they did close, they would destroy the old custom of Saturday outing, common alike to the working people of town and country. All of this could be obviated by introducing the Thursday half holiday.

Here is a poem by John Northern Hilliard who is now editor of a paper in Rochester N.Y. but who lived many years on the western plains. It appeals to us of the westward stretches.

Wind wail and water-drift,
And moaning of the sea,
A sweep of sky--a seagulls cry--
What are these things to me?

Wind screech and water-snarl,
And spindrift of the sea
As the spirit of the storm is born
In foaming agony

Wind fall and water drift
And sails that sand afar,
Like wings of birds that hover 'round
The sand dunes of the bar

Sea strains and ocean chants
My ears have never heard,
Not have they caught the minor chords
Of waves by wind hands stained

Sea sand and sky are not
For me are naught to me
Whose eyes have never gazed beyond
Dakotas sluggish boundary

Is it not curious how the soul of man sickens for the sea. There is no place in the world where the sunshine is brighter than in Nebraska, no place whole fields look fairer or where the light gay air seems to lift the spirit more gently on the wings of beauty and of joy yet the sea must ever be dreamed of longed for applied to

Why here in Chicago the waters of Michigan stretch beyond the dirty [roa?] town as fields of Paradise [?] beyond the tumult of life and the eye resting on them moistens with happy [?] at cognizance of so much beauty.

Water is the soul of the landscape says Auerbach.

Six Thirty P.M. Train.
of the
CHICAGO
MILWAUKEE
& ST PAUL RY.
Best service
ELECTRIC LIGHTS.
Dining car
City office 1301 Furnam.