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MQOSEHEART MAGAZINE
answer yes, and that answer lies in the teachings of the Loyal Order of Moose.
Those words “Good thoughts, good words and good deeds to all mankind,” would, if obeyed, have made this world a better world, and all the bloodshed of four awful years would have been averted.
We do not, perhaps, grasp the full meaning of the words quoted above, but a few moments of serious thought will convince any of us that they speak volumes, and if lived up to in their full meaning will make us all better men and better Moose.
Let us “write it deep in our hearts,” and implant in our memory the truthfulness of these few simple words, and in the coming years we can see the great result that of one great “Brotherhood of Man.”
Our great obligation, Moosaheart, should inspire us to greater possibilities, and greater achievements; and if we are all Loyal Moose, nothing can prevent us from placing before the world the fact that we stand “One for all, and all for one,” and as we advance with Purity, Aid and Progress we will see a great victory, not of bloodshed, not by shell or shrapnel, or the merciless machine gun, but by every Loyal Moose living up to his obligation, exemplifying our great teachings, and casting hatred and prejudice aside, we will advance as one great batallion of men who have done, and are doing, their sworn duty to their fellow-man, and the defenseless little ones who,are placed in our charge, and no greater or more sacred duty ever fell to the lot of man. The spirit of love leads us on, led by the baby voices at Mooseheart.
“And a little child shall lead them Into purer, nobler love;
Into homes of pain and anguish,
And be blessed by H'.m above;
Into fields of great endeavor
‘Of our substance we will give,*
That the little ones at Mooseheart In great happiness may live.
“In our work we must not falter,
Keep advancing day by day,
Keep the fires of love a־burning And spread aid along the way.
‘Be you helped or be you helping’
By your cash you’ll love them true,
And the little tots at Mooseheart Will exclaim ‘I love you, /too.’ ”
Comments of a Dictator
-By-
David C. Huff, Buffalo Lodge No. 8
WE HAVE bid farewell to the year of nineteen-eighteen, and is there one of us but what realizes the great events that transpired during the declining days of the year just passed?
We have seen events that created history in its fullest sense. We have lived a year, that, to the world will be one of great importance and to future generations of mankind, and we have seen the result of a foreign power’s domineering spirit to rule the world, and we have seen that spirit crushed to earth, and we certainly must all be thankful that such a result was a great benefit to all mankind, enemy as well as ally.
In looking back into the dark and awful past of four long years, this world today has learned a great lesson. Any events other than that which has transpired would have never taught us to learn this great lesson. We have learned that man for man we are all equal. That democracy was the bulwark of all that was right, and we have also learned that America and her gallant sons caused this great task to be accomplished.
One sad part of it all is the fact that so many brave and gallant men, be they Britain, French, Belgian, Italian, Australian or any who battled for the allied cause, should now be sleeping in the fields of Flanders, or any other historic battle field, entering their long sleep by the treacherous Hun bullets, and this fact is also brought home to us very forcibly, when we must also mourn the loss of many, many brave American lads who upheld the reputation of the American spirit and fighting genius of the grand old U. S. A.
Sleeping in Flanders field ’neath the roses and poppies we can only with proud head and aching heart say “May they rest in peace.”
When we think of how terrible all this must be, let us pause a moment and let our thought dwell upon the question “Could all these terrible years been made peaceful and happy?” We will
Treasury Department announces another Liberty Loan—the Fifth—for next spring, and refers to it as “the loan that will be used to bring the victors home.” Secretary Glass’s plea is, “Let’s finish the job,” which phrase will be used as the slogan of the Fifth Liberty Loan Campaign.
There may be some among our readers who will say; “What! Another Liberty Loan? What for, pray tell? Isn’t the war over?”
Our answer to these queries, based on our understandings of the case, is this; “No, the war is not over, amd it will not be over until the bills for billions which now confront Uncle Sam, are paid to the last farthing. Our army took a contract to fight in France, while we at home took a contract to pay the bills. Will anyone deny that the brave Yanks have not more than made good on their promise? On the other hand, we do not believe there is anyone who will be so bold as to say that we, the people of the United States, have fulfilled our part of the joint contract. Not until our boys are back again on American soil and the Government’s slate is wiped clean of all financial obligations can we look our returning heroes in the eye and truthfully say to them, ‘Boys, we have kept faith with you; we have paid the country’s war bills just as we promised you we would.’ ”
At the moment this is the situation:	The pro
ceeds from the Fourth Liberty Loan are exhausted and the Government is issuing at the rate of $600,-000,000 every two weeks short-term anticipation certificates drawn against (1) the Federal taxes due March 15, and (2) against the Fifth Liberty Loan. In December the Government’s post-war bill of expense amounted to more than $2,000,000,000, or about $70,000,000 a day! It is proving true, as Secretary Glass predicted, that “the initial stages of peace may be found even more ־ expensive than war.”
Our troops have “fought the good fight” and won the war. Now they must be fed, clothed, housed and paid until they have been transported home, which will be a matter of another year at least. All this takes money—huge sums. The success of the Fifth Liberty Loan is a national necessity. Let every member of the Loyal Order of Moose do his share in “putting it over.”
Fraternity Organizes Society For Service A Chat With Dean Rondthaler
can come that splendid nervous thrill to be up and at it in life’s great struggle for success. They never hear the call to make the best of themselves. The call to great duty, splendid responsibility, active service, fine sacrifice and noble endeavor never sounds in their ears.
All these things come only when conditions stir children and youth in this environment of civilized, advancing, educational methods.
There is the picture on the right. It is a family group, too. The father is not there. His picture hangs on the wall and is enshrined in sweet memory of mother and children. Those children have been at school today. Something in today’s life
has prepared them for the years of manhood and womanhood. Open the door of that room in North Loyalty Hall, bring that family group out on the steps. Thirty-five miles due east lies Chicago and all its splendid “I will” accomplishments. To the south the river leads on to the great Mississippi with its border land of prairie and its teeming-cities waiting for this young generation to carry them still further along in the great records of development and progress. The sun has set back there in the west and the far region calls those children and put into that boundlessness of opportunity something of the right, the true, the beautiful, the useful for which they are preparing under this inspiring influence and creation of the Moose.
Fraternity organizes society for service.
with her litter of six or seven pupps realistically “dogging” at her, as she exercises them while taking dinner. Men and boys go off in great ecstasy over that picture. The men recall the street memories of boyhood, when their dog was the delight of their days, and their comforting solace at their feet by night. The boys are made hungry for Mooseheart, a place that not only disciplines and educates and vocationalizes and feeds and clothes, but actually raises dogs for the boy. Mc-Cutcheon and Briggs could do no better with their dogs than that dog picture of Mooseheart. It’s proof to the boy that Mooseheart is really “human” and understands the boy, when it goes so far as to keep a dog supp’y for him. One little fellow at Little Rock the other night sat stolid, indifferent as he looked at all the moral, spiritual, educational and home allurements of Mooseheart shown in the movies. But when that dog picture flashed out, he woke up, lifted himself out of his chair and broke out in half mournful, half hopeful exclamation: “Gee, if my father died, I’d go to Mooseheart.” He was willing even to sacrifice his father in order to get to Mooseheart. They are telling it about the Little Rock Lodge that that heartless little tyke is giving his father no rest until he signs an application for membership in the Moose.
But get back to these family-animal groups that head this article. On the left is the family group of the best advance that Eskimo life has made in the days of the reindeer; on the right is a Mooseheart picture of a family group in the beneficient environment of the Moose. There is nothing savage or barbarous in the Eskimo picture. All the faces bear the reflection of the gentleness of the reindeer. Grandfather, father, mother and children all declare a fine intelligence. The missionary has not labored up there in vain for four or five generations. He has created a lovely halo of spirituality about that Eskimo group. But don’t you see—there it all stops. The rude smoke-infested hut, patched up, iced in, snowed over; the bleak landscape, the frozen, hunched up humans, all indicate a pathetic case of arrested development. The missionary can go no further, can carry his beloved children no further on life’s progress. There is nothing beckoning them to become greater than their hut, greater than their prayers for daily supply of fish to eat, furs to dress them and at last a peaceful death in the hope of immortality. Beautiful enough, but in this wonderful age of the wor’d’s progress what real tingle of life can those Eskimo children on the left feel? Never to them
TWO study pictures. Before you read any farther make your own observations. Weave your own story out of them. You will get something if you will get this—the great difference of opportunity afforded by heredity, environment and the progress of civilization.
O. Henry in his “Memoirs of a Yellow Dog,” says: “No magazine goes to press nowadays without an animal story in it.” “But,” he goes on, “You needn’t look for any stuck up literature in my piece, such as Bearoo, the bear, and Snakoo, the snake, and Tammanoo, the tiger, talk in the jungle book.” It’s a thrilling “yellow dog story” he gets off with fine sentiment of morale, suggestiveness of sweet
sympathy between the human and the animal, and that gladsome sense of liberty enjoyed by man and dog, as together they escape from Mistress wife in a New York flat, when she pampered and petted the dog, the dog’s abomination; and henpecked the husband that makes even the yellow dog “feel sorry for Hubby.” It is a great lesson on “opportunity” in the picture of dog and man running away from “Missis” and her three-flight-climb flat, frolicking along to the Twenty-third street ferry on their way to the Rocky Mountains.
By the by, speaking of dogs, there is a “dog picture” in the Mooseheart films wandering around the country that arouses a species of enthusiastic applause, particularly from men and boys, that differs in sentiment from all other “appreciations.” It’s the picture of the Mooseheart bulldog mother