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 [?] 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 [?] 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 [?]--a seagulls [?]--
What are these things to me?

Wind screech and water-snart,
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 cuious how the soul of man sickens for the sea. There is no place in the world wehre 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 set the [?] 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. [?]
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 [?] 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 [?]--a seagulls [?]--
What are these things to me?

Wind screech and water-snart,
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 cuious how the soul of man sickens for the sea. There is no place in the world wehre 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 set the [?] 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. [?]
of the
CHICAGO
MILWAUKEE
& ST PAUL RY.
Best service
ELECTRIC LIGHTS.
Dining car
City office 1301 Furnam.