Indicators

Indicators By Dr. F. S. Harris, President of the Brigham Young University "I'll have to get rid of that fellow," said a friend of mine as we passed a man who was working under his direction. "What's the trouble?" I asked, "he seems to be doing his work all right." "Yes, but didn't you see him smoking?" "Well what of that?" I inquired. "You smoke yourself, so why do you object to his smoking?" To which he explained: "The difference lies in the fact that I am not a 'Mormon,' and he is. I am a great believer in little things as indicators of character. People can deceive you in big things; so, the best way to tell of the reliability of a man is to watch the little in- dicators. I have traveled all over the world and I have learned that the Catholic or the Jew who disregards the little teachings of his church, while he is a member, is the kind of a man that will disregard my instructions when I am not there to watch him. If I am going to hire a 'Mormon' I want one who does not use tobacco or whisky, and I would rather he did not use tea or coffee. Of course, I would rather have anyone who is temperate, no matter what his religion, but temperance is espe- cially important in a 'Mormon,' since it not only indicates that he has the finer qualities which temperance gives to any man, but it also gives me an indication of his reliability in other respects." This statement caused me to do a good deal of wondering, and to ask myself if these little things could really be so im- portant. Then I thought of my experience in the chemical laboratory with indicators. I remember that when I had a solution to analyze I could not, merely by looking, tell whether it were alakline or acid in reaction; but by putting in a drop or two of methyl orange, or some other indicator, I could imme- diately tell the reaction by the color of the solution. This is one of the most useful principles known to the chemist. If it were not for these indicators it would be difficult, if not im- possible, for him to make a chemical analysis. The indicators themselves do not influence the chemical reaction one way or another; they simply reveal the condition that exists in the solution. When employers must hire many people, they resort to all kinds of little devices to help them learn the character of those

INDICATORS 241 who apply. The story is told of one man who wanted a boy to work in his office. Fifty boys applied. In having them come to see him he had each one pass through a room where there was a book on the floor. All of the boys except one passed the book; this one picked it up and put it on the table. He got the job. Dozens of these devices are used by employers and other trained students of human nature, but I am convinced that there is no better index to the character of a boy who has been brought up in a Latter-day Saint family than his attitude to- ward the Word of Wisdom. The boy knows that it is morally and physically wrong to disobey the Word of Wisdom, and if he disregards it, in spite of these facts, it shows that his mind is opposed to truth and right. I hope, therefore, that all of you boys who are anxious to succeed will realize that if you smoke a cigarette it is not only the harm done your body that counts against you, but the cig- arette negatively indicates your trustworthiness under responsi- bility. Provo, Utah Enchanting Hour Silent as the larks homeward fly, The pale of evening gently comes, No rushing noise, but whispered sigh From out the pine tree gently hums. The azure sky, now calm and clear, Awaits the evening's train of rays That gaily taint the atmosphere, And as a dial marks the days. Old Faithful Sol has gone to rest, A fading light o'er yonder hills Points out where in the mystic west A distant world his light now fills. The paler tints of twilight are — Within the evening's tender grasp, Indeed the world is best by far When locked in evening's gentle clasp. A golden glow from West skyline The twinkle from an early star, The calm, the hush of evening time From out the world all drudgery bar. The morn I love, the dawn and noon, The sun, the air, the dew and all, But never did it seem too soon, To me to have the evening fall. Laie, Oahu M. F. Kirkham

barts andfjollyhocks <JJ Story of Love, Struggle and Society J{uthMoench3elf Many times before the step became irrevocable, John wa^ moved to beg Edna to kneel with him and make the important venture a matter of prayer. But Edna seemed so radiantly happy over the prospect of a new home of her own; and the fact that the home was to be next door to Judith's, loomed so import- ant a factor in the horizon of her happiness, that he was loath to put the matter in question at all. John only squared his shoulders more resolutely and set his chin more squarely. Somehow, he must carry the load to make her happy. Somehow he must meet obligations that seemed overwhelmingly against him. The burden robbed him of some of his freshness of vision; it crowded into his thoughts that should have been, at that time, free for the business ventures he and Phil were then essaying alone. "We might as well build the kind of house we want," Edna reiterated many times, "since daddy will give us all the backing we need." And, indeed, it would scarcely have done to build a small, cheap looking structure in the midst of so many handsome residences. From hardwood floors to newest plumbing devises and from built-in fixtures to sleeping porches, basement and fur- nace, the house was not greatly outclassed by the splendid structure that was to house Phil and Judith. "We don't want ours to suffer too much by comparison," Edna urged; and it did not. "If mother could have had such a home," was often John's thought and consolation, "modern plumbing, step-saving devices, and all these other conveniences might have served to prolong her life. If they keep Edna young and beautiful they will justify the extra burden." Salaries, however, are very unelastic and John was beginning to find his no exception tjo the rule. Then came the problem of furnishing. "Oh, what shall we do?" Edna wailed. "If it taKes half of your salary for interest and monthly payments, how can we buy furniture and live?" "Let's rent it," John blundered, "and go back to the adobe

HEARTS AND HOLLYHOCKS 243 hut ainong the hollyhocks. The rent would pay the interest and monthly payments and we could save enough in a year to buy our furniture. Why, whatever is the matter — ?" Edna had crumpled up, a pathetic heap on the settee. John immediately put his comforting powers to the test. "But, darling," she sobbed against his breast, "I've counted on it so long and it is so beautiful. It would be so humiliating to have to rent it and move into the suburbs. Can't we find some way to furnish just one or two rooms at first." "We'll certainly find a way," John soothed. "We'll go right down and get a few sticks of furniture and pay for them on the installment plan." The few sticks of furniture when selected, one just couldn't get cheap stuff for such a beautiful home in such a fashionable quarter, ran up a bill that did not stop at a few hundreds. Since, because of the arches, the whole lower floor was practically one Doom, it was necessary to furnish every part of it. The dealer was finally persuaded to accept a trifle over one fourth of John's salary for monthly payments. Left with a bare twenty- five dollars a month for food, clothes, coal, taxes and general liv- ing expenses, the future looked anything but rosy to John. "I'll manage somehow," Edna comforted him. *We'll scrimp along. You'll see I'm a famous manager." Edna proved herself, indeed, a "famous manager" but the first month's batch of bills was appalling. Even kitchen utensils and dishes count up and then she couldn't starve poor John, who was looking tired and worried. Women began to call and one had to invite them to tea, which only necessitated a few extras for the table. There were invitations to teas, card-parties and private dancing parties and one couldn't refuse. Then Edna found, too, that she must look nice while about her work, one could never tell when some one might drop in for a few minutes. Afternoon dresses must be fresh and dainty and one couldn't wear the same one every single day. The one party dress soon began to look common, but how could she ask John for another? John was beginning to complain about the late hours spoil- ing his v/iork. He needed more sleep and more time to thresh out his new problems. He must find some way to add to his salary. m MW Matters were approaching a crisis, too, at the mills. we can't pay those fellows such wages," Phil rapn-d out one day. "They can't live on less," John protested. "Their wage is a tithe of vour income." "I'm entitled to my income," Phil declared. "Surely they are entitled to a living wage," John urged.

244 IMPROVEMENT ERA '"Each man among them has a family to house, feed, clothe and educate. There are doctor and dental bills to pay and the pos- sible rainy day to provide against." "It's these confounded unions that are putting false notions into these men's heads," Phil continued. "You have your commercial clubs and business men's or- ganizations that look after your interests. Why shouldn t these men have theirs?" "They are too arbitrary. The idea of attempting to dictate terms to us. They've got to take less." "And isn't that dictating terms to them?" "We have a right to dictate terms. We are their employers." "They are to have no rights merely because they are em- ployed?" "I've a notion to close the works down. Then they'd see where they stood. Starve them till spring. The'd be ready to eat out of our hands." John blanched. "Don't do it, Phil, I went through that when I was a kid. I'll never forget the look on my father's face and the sag of his whole body when he came back one day, unexpectedly, from work and told us that winter was on us and he was out of employment. His mouth drooped and his chin quivered so that he couldn't kiss my mother who always ran to him to comfort him when she felt trouble. "For days we would notice his pathetic eagerness when he heard of a possible job. He wfould shave and dress himself with care and go out sprucely, almost jauntily, while we all waited with so much hopeful anxiety. But in a short time he always came back and no one questioned him or pretended to notice that he had failed. "When there was no longer any hope for work, so many men were out of employment, father tried fishing, sein-fishing. We had one good feed or two on fish and sold a few before cold weather set in and the fish hit for deeper waters than the sein was meant for. "Mother suggested rabbit and game hunting. And we had another good feed or so. "Most of the time we lived on mush and milk, potatoes and apples, windfalls and wormy the apples were, but oh, so wel- come. Once in a while we had a small dish of beans. But hungry as we were, we got so we dreaded to come to the table. It hurt mother so when we had no appetite for the best she could give us. "Mother tried everything she could turn her hand to do, washing, slewing, cooking and cared for us meanwhile. She was

HEARTS AND HOLLYHOCKS 245 always merry, unless we caught her alone with her own thoughts. She never twitted father or upbraided him. I think she just loved him a little more and tried a little harder to make him happy. "This must ha\ie been a great comfort to her later. When coal began to give out, he went to the canyon for logs for fuel. He was caught in a snow-slide with his load and mother was left alone with the three of us." "My little sister grew thin and, undernourished, contracted a heavy cold and died. I sold papers and got my clothes and some food for the rest of us. But mother didn't last long. The burden of earning a living and caring for us got her. I think she ate almost nothing so we could have more. My other sister followed a few years later and I was left the sole survivor of that winter's privations. "I don't say the men who shut down the works were not justified in closing them down. But when I see winter approach and hear some one speak of closing mills, a shudder goes through me. Don't do it, Phil, but come with me and meet some of these men in their homes. Get acquainted with them, and I know you will want to give them a square deal. They'll be more loyal to you, too, if they know you better as a man and not just as their employer." "By the way, John," Phil concluded, changing the subject but much softened, "how are you and Edna making it? I'm having a deuce of a time keeping up the pace, spending three times what you make!" "I wanted to stay in the suburbs till we could afford some- thing like this," John apologized, "but Edna was so keen to live near Judith as she had always done. I guess we are through the worst of it." "The worst of it?" Phil exploded. "Today Judith wanted almost a year's earnings for a new evening gown with cloak, slippers and lingerie to match. I don't know where it will all end." Again John blanched. Edna had been dropping hints of late about a new gown, Judith and she were members of the same social set. Their standard of living had to be somewhat the same. If Phil, with his resources, was feeling the strain, how could he, on definite salary and every nickle of that ac- counted for every month, keep the pace? Surely Edna must now see the folly of playing at precedence, with the odds all against them and their happiness the hazard. He would beg her once again to give it all up and move to humbler quarters more in keeping with their income. They

246 IMPROVEMENT ERA had been so happy in the little home, living their life in their way, free, independent and leisurely. He found Edna in tears, sobbing as if her heart would break. He gathered her into his arms and she cried out her grief. It seemed there was to be the biggest social event of the season. Edna was invited but how could she go in he same old gown she had been wearing so long? Why, it was not even an evening gown. Judith was to have the most exquisite creation with slippers and cloak and lingerie suitable for so sheer a gown. Why must some people have so much and others so little? Why couldn't John succeed as well as Phil? He was far cleverer. John never could withstand Edna in tears. They unmanned him every time. When she cried there was only one thought in his mind and that was to relieve her distress. He held her in his arms now and promised her that she should look as well as the best. He wiped away her tears. It was his duty to make her happy. He must find a way. His heart was touched and his pride was pricked. He would show that set that his wife could dress as well as the best. He would show people that he could make money as well as Phil and the rest of them. He was in a dangerous mood. He would find a way. That very evening a way presented itself. It was a way too quick to be safe, too questionable to have been tolerated by John a month before. It was a way, too doubtful for any but a desperate man to have considered ever. John's pride and his wife's need and pride in him spurred him on. He parted with prudence and peace of mind at the same time and made the dare. (To be continued.) H ow: 111 weeds grow a pace, and truly this ill weed has grown apace indeed. The smoker puffs and puffs away, No matter what you do or say. Go where you will, by night or day, And there he sucks his horrid clay. Rut 'tis enough to make one sick To see him suck his lolly-stick. The smoke perfumes his clothing through, His mouth becomes a horrid flue. How can a woman take a kiss From such a smoke-dried mouth as this? How can a woman love and hug A living, stale tobacco plug? Bendigo, Australia J. W. Washington