1430 
JShe RURAL NEW-YORKER 
neooni^er Us. T.t; s 
WOMAN AND HOME 
Making Over the Wounded Soldiers 
Give These a Chance to Labor 
fTliP now niagaziiip. “Cnrrj/ On,’' i)riiit.s 
a little story by Ellis I'arkor liiitlor en¬ 
titled “Exit Mr. Tumult and Miss Shout¬ 
ing." M'e are glad to reprint it here. 
There i.s no question that after our (’ivil 
AVar some men became mendicants and 
public charges becau.se they had no chance 
to receive fair training in new lines of 
■work. We should make no such mistake 
in this war. The great need and iirivilege 
of every man is the right to labor and be- 
«-itme s<df-supj)(ii'ting. The world must see 
that h(‘ gets his cluincc*.] 
Wlien llruiry K. l.imk came march¬ 
ing back to .TelVerson .lunction. Iowa, 
during the Civil War. with one arm off 
at tin* shoulder and the other off at the 
••Ibow. the vil!ag(* turned out and held a 
Henry K. i.unk meeting at Odd I’ellows' 
Hall, with free food, free speeches, and 
free music hy the .lel'fersoti Junction Ju- 
vejiile Rand. 'I'ln* mayor told almost .‘500 
cilizt'ii.s and boys that Henry was a hero, 
an honor to .lelTerson Junction, and to 
juit it in the mildest nossiblc terms, the 
]uide of Jefferson Junction, the Statf* of 
Iowa, the T’nited States of America, and 
the univei'se. 
To hear the mayor tell it. the stars in 
theii- cour.ses would stand still thereafter 
every time Henry E. Eunk wanted them 
to. and the sun would come right down to 
the corner of Main and t'rass streets and 
offer its flame every time Henry wanted 
to light his jdi)e. {‘)nly he would not have 
a J»i|)e. ,7effei\son Junction would k<*<*i) 
him in genuim* imitorted Havana cigars 
for the I'cst of his natural life 
J'he Civil War was going on just then 
and ev<‘ry time there was a victory Jt'll'er- 
son Junction howled with joy. Every 
time fh<‘re was a defejit the town yelled 
with rage. There was nothing in the 
world as big and important as the war. 
and there was nothing in the world too 
good for lleni'y K. Eunk. 
At the big Hero Heni-y meeting in ()ild 
I'ellows' Hall there was food enough to 
last H(‘nry six weeks, and he ate until his 
eyes stuck out. IE* sat on the platform 
right besi<le tin* mayor, and all eyes wert* 
<in him. At the close of the meeting tin* 
mayor d(*manded. as the only possible 
tiling to do. that everybody chip in to cre¬ 
ate a fund to In* given Henry, and every¬ 
body chiiiped. There was a pasteboard 
shoe box almost half full of moin'y. and 
when the mayor handed it to Henry he 
r(*ached out his stump of an arm before 
he realized he did not have even one hand 
left with which to take tin* money, and 
ev(*rybody laugh(*d and cried at the -same 
time, and then cheered H<*nry K. Eunk. 
The mayor said, in chusing the me(*ting. 
that Jcfl'erson .lunction considered Henry 
a sacred charge, and that, come what 
might. Henry would never f('<*I want while 
om* stom* stood upon anoth(*r in .Tefferson 
•lunction. 
As JefVer.son .lunction was built almost 
entirely of wood, with om* or two brick 
buildings, this was a safe* assertion. 'I'ln* 
only place where om* stom* ever did stand 
on amither was in front (d’ the hotel, 
when* the village loafeiv u.sually idayed 
I >u(ds-on-I )avy. 
Rut it was a grand night for Hi*nry 
H(* had lost his arms, but Jefferson Junc¬ 
tion told him he did not need any arms. 
It offered him free food, free clothing, and 
free sh(*lter. It was wild to give them to 
him. It did not whisiier it—it yelled it. 
Mr. Tumult and Mi.ss Shouting made the 
well-known wc'lkin ring as it had m*ver 
rung before in Odd Fellows’ hall. That 
was up to It) o’clock that night. Then 
Mr. Tumult and Miss .^limiting ]tul on 
their wraps and went home. 
For a week Henry K. Eunk received in¬ 
vitations to ilinner. but In* was not an ex- 
l)ert at feeding himself with his bad arm 
yet. and that soon jdayed out. 
Then the war ended and Mr. Tumult 
and Miss Shouting never came around at 
all except toward election day. and then 
they did not pay much attention to H(*n- 
ry. He was only one vote. He was only 
a battered-up ex-soldier in a faded uni¬ 
form. and there were many other batter- 
ed-up soldiers in faded uniforms. 
The war being over, people grew tired 
of hearing of the war and of thinking of 
of the war. About the best Henry K. 
Lunk could do was to sit on the bench in 
front of the hotel and watch the other 
fellows play Ring-toss or I)uck-on-Davy. 
He got his pen.sion and lived on that 
somehow, mainly by grafting his chewing 
tobacco from someom* who could earn a 
living. He managed to live, hut that was 
about all. He was moving around Jef¬ 
ferson .lunction the last time I was there, 
soim* Eo y(*ars ago, a sad-faced. us(*h*ss. 
sick-of-life old man. He had done his 
shaia* in om* of tin* biggest things in tin* 
world, which is w;ir. but In* could not do 
his share in the other bigg»*st tiling—the 
vei-y bigg(*st thing of all—which is jicace. 
The glad words that the presence of 
Mr. 'rumult and Miss Shouting had juit 
into the mouth of tin* mayor at the (*nd 
of the meeting in Odd Fellow.s’ Hall never 
came to anything real. .T(*fl'erson Junc¬ 
tion did not feed and clothe and house 
Henry K. Eunk. \Fh.v’? Recau.se while a 
nation is at war and on the threshold of 
victory its men and women feel the great¬ 
est inspiration in helping the disabled 
man. but when the tumult and the .shout¬ 
ing cea.se—as Rrother Kipling puts it— 
and the war is completed and over and 
the country ha.s .settled down to its nor¬ 
mal work again, the country may not for¬ 
get but the individual has his own cares 
and worries, joys and interests. 
Tin* country may. by pension or by in¬ 
surance. give a small mee<l of sujipo’rt to 
the mutilated man, but it can also give 
him the only thing you and I care a real 
hang for—the chance* to do our share in 
the work of the world. When I can’t do 
some u.seful work I want to quit. If I 
<*v<*r have my armw and legs cut off I 
'vanf sotiH'body to make* me* a se*! of ste*e*l 
te*eth and teach me to bite .scallop.s in the 
<‘dge*s e)f oak table tops. 1 want to be 
eleeing something u.seful. 
Every man and Aveeman has this same 
feeling and he never knows how deep it 
is. and how necessary work is to happy 
life, until he can’t work. To give the 
hanelicaiiped man a chance to do work is 
tee give him the only opportunity for real 
happiness. Then he can look up at the 
sky every night and say. “I. too, am doing 
my work in your world. () God !’’ That 
strikes me as being a lot better than look¬ 
ing up at the sky at eventide and saying. 
“I could not do a useful thing today. O 
Lord I but on the first day of next month 
I’ll get .$10.<)4 iiension money.’’ 
Hon’t try to think this tiling out ab¬ 
stractly. Think of yourself and what you 
would like best if you lost all of one arm 
and half of another. You would like to 
be taught how to be independent by your 
own labor. You know .vou would. 
'I'he greatest thing in the world today, 
when this gigantic war has mutilated its 
thousands upon thousands, is to speed 
the good work of reconstructing these 
inen. Reconstruction doe.s not mean huild- 
ing a new arm that can work ; it means 
reconstructing a life that has been 
wrenched from its old foundations and 
left shattered, and constructing in its 
place a new life of helpfulness, inde¬ 
pendence and solid s(*lf-respect. When it 
comes to selling Liberty homls Mr. Tu¬ 
mult and Miss Shouting are fine helpers, 
but when it comes to the retuimed .soldier 
who can be (*ducated to self-support and 
us('fuln(*ss, the nation’s libretto should 
say. ‘ Exit Mr. Tumult and Miss Shout¬ 
ing: enter .lohn J. ('ommonsen.se.’’ 
The Christiras Spirit in Rural Com¬ 
munities 
(’hri.stmas this year is not a season of 
"things’’ to he given to fi'iends and ac- 
<|uaintaiK‘(*s. but a time of big thoughts, 
s('lf-d(;nials that are no deprivations, bo¬ 
ra u.se of the lofty, generous principles in- 
volv(*d. ('hristmas gift making as it Avas 
practiced tivi* years ago is almost un¬ 
known in the Avriter’s iiresent arijuaint- 
ances. The last bulwark Avhich .stood out 
for the ohl lime "exchanging" of holiday 
gifts or tokens went down tlie other day 
tin receipt of a letter from the last one of 
my friends that I am exiiected to give it 
up. It said “Ho not h*t Christmas gifts 
c:iter yfui mind this y(*ar. as far as Ave 
are concerned, for we are not doing much 
aliout Christmas ourselves this year.’’ 
'I'hen folloAved jilans about .soldier boys of 
the family and un.selfish detaiks of giving 
where real ne(*d (*xisted in this and other 
countries. 
There arc so many ways in which aa’c 
may help and cheer the multitude of 
those Avho sadly need help and cheer Jit 
this time that avc do not stop to consider 
the small wants at home. Indeed, there 
are no small A\-ants. as avc are all so 
thankful the Avar is over and that avi* are 
able to < 1(1 something foi' .somi'om* else 
who n(*eds s(*rvice. We can and do fiml 
our liest haiipiness in this Avay. 
One country friend said the gift that 
did her tin* most good last year Avas a 
card from a friend in N(*av York City 
saying she Avas suiiporting a French or¬ 
phan several days and Avas giving it a 
:a*al Christmas, in her name. J’his year 
my friend is .sending such cards to all her 
friends, sending tlie mon(*y which she 
u.sed to bestoAV on their gifts to France 
to be us(*d in tin* care of a number of 
little oriihan.s. Others are catching the 
spirit and doing likcAvi.se. Sunday .school 
classes, clubs and individuals an* con¬ 
tributing .S.’Ki.i'iO each to the Eadie.s’ Home 
Journal. Avhich is suiiei'intending a fund 
Avh(*r(*hy donations of this amount sup¬ 
port an orjihan baby a y(*ar. giving it a 
mother’s care. 
Others are giving some of lh(*ir choicest 
books, or buying ncAV on(*s and leaving 
tliem Avith th<* leading imlilic lihrari(*s to 
h* .sent at once to furnish holiday che(*r 
for Avounded, melancholy, discouraged .sol- 
diei's Avho for months must (*ndure jiain 
and sulfering in hospital Avards. p(*rhaps 
n(*ver again to enjoy lifi* as b(*fore they 
off<*r(*d their lives as a free sacritice for 
Am(*rican liberty and justice. All are 
Avriting che(*r.A* l(*tt(‘rs ami .sending funds 
to fri(*n(1s across the seas—Avhether there 
is time to remember home loved ones or 
not. 
The children, of course, are to he re- 
ni(*mbered. Rut ca'cii they s(*(* the justice 
of not Avanting the oldti’me trivial' gifts, 
but exhibit an unscllishness that has 
never been e(|ualled before. Such gifts 
as Avill be made this year Avill be not(*- 
Aviirthy for their real iiractical value and 
'siiitahility for the per.son they are in- 
t(*nde(l for. Th(*y Avill include siich things 
as the h(*st garden magazine for a tloAver 
loving friend, a jiair of Avarm lined hoots 
for the out-of-doors Avoman. a cloth(*s 
hamiier for the houscAvife Avho carries the 
soih*d clothes of the family to the base¬ 
ment dally in the interests of a tidy 
chamher and bathroom, a chemical closet 
for the (lelicate farm |)ar«*nts avIio do not 
luiA’e city convenience.s. Tarkington’s 
“SeA-enteen’’ for the lovei' of I*(*nro(i Scho- 
lield storie.s. avIio also (h*lights in reading 
aloud; Tilden’s “S(*cond AYind’’ for the 
farmer friend Avho Avould like to u.se more 
up-to-date methods, but too often finds a 
handicap; a bottle or tAAo of expensive 
builder and tonic for the AA'orn house¬ 
mother Avho never thinks of her oAvn 
needs or strength, etc. This year’s gifts 
Avill be of the Avorth-Avhile. heart-Avarming 
kind that Avill maki* it hard indeed <*ver 
again to see the fitness of trashy, novelty 
gifts that are throAvn on the shelf at once 
and .as promptly forgotten. .Ar. o. F. 
7'lii,s i.s ./cnnic N. Floi/d. She ini.s horn in Florida and .set free after the i'irit 
U’ur. ^ow for years she has lived in the family of L. J. Smith of Connectient 
—ativays faithful and hclored hy all. 'The bird she is holdiny is "liiy Hoy," an 
11-pound Indian Cornish Cock, 
