"Thy Neighbor's Goods"
LeGarde S.
Doughty
AND
THE SOLDIERS,
their descendants, the masses that
will
follow down the days and days-these will not profit a grain of
salt. Pity it is their losses cannot be computed with so negative
a touch.
Perhaps, if a man could organize his own propaganda, make
up his own mind, cast his own ballot-and count it, withal-he
would elect beef roast, steamed rice, asparagus, and a pipeful of
burley. That administration could succeed itself to the end of life;
the man would not wish it quantitatively and qualitatively divided
to make room for a shibboleth. And, with that status quo, the man
would make his saw sing, not caring whether his map was green or
yellow, not caring whether its name was called by heavy guttural
or light sibilant, caring nothing at all for the name of it.
Tonight the classic burden of Atlas is broken into so many
parts, each man may take a measure on his neck. He who
will
not
say, at least, "this is my world" was
~ever
deep in anything but
nothing.
To be sitting at an east window, one hundred
feet
off Brown
Road, sixteen miles south of Augusta, Georgia-the nearest elec.
trical device several miles north-is to be quite to s9litude retired.
If
you were sitting with feet propped on the most unapproachable
council table in Europe you would be no nearer the truth behind
international insanity. International? - Interstate, interurban,
interstreet, interdoor too.
"Thy Neighbor's Goods."
But what are thy neighbor's goods? Synthetically and imper–
sonally, they are anything from a spot in history to a square foot
of real estate; that is clear. Analytically and personally, they are
the legal possessions of individuals, be they titles by which men
are called or pieces of precious metal by which men are chosen;
that is not quite clear, that
legal possession,
it is only simple. And
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