Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 132, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 June 1918 — IDLERS MOST BE FORCED TO WORK [ARTICLE]

IDLERS MOST BE FORCED TO WORK

Vigorous Enforcement of the Vagrancy Law Is a Pub* lie Necessity. COT OUT. THE SENTIMENT Duty of Every Citizen to Report Neighbor or Acquaintance Who Won't Work and Demand Sheriff Enforce Laws. (Prepared by ■ the United States Department of Agriculture.) Washington.—Most communities all over the United States are enforcing, or preparing to enforce the vagrancy laws very vigorously. There is a na-tion-wide sentiment of utter detestation for the man so small of spirit as to be willing to do nothing during the supreme hour of all human history. There is a general determination all over America that such men are going to be forced to work, without delay or ceremony. However, in so vast a land there may be a few communities, here and there, where sentiment has not become sufficiently aroused to echo this general demand which resounds over the country. If there is a place where farmers are looking for help, and, at the same time, loafers are hanging around the depot, the stores and the pool rooms, those farmers themselves are somewhat to blame —unless they demand of the sheriff and local officers an absolute and unyielding application of the vagrancy law. A field man of the United States department of agriculture recently wrote this from one of the important agricultural states: “Entirely too much labor, rural as well as city. Is slacking. The compulsory work law is not being enforced as well as it should. For sentimental reasons some persons hesitate to report a neighbor or acquaintance who is idle and won’t work. . . . My idea is that the first thing to do is to clean up the loafing habit.” “For Sentimental Reason!" Maybe you feel that way. Perhaps Bill Smith, whom you know well, and rather like in a casual sort of fashion, is a chronic loafer. He is a harmless enough wretch, and you just hate to make a complaint against Bill —“fori sentimental reasons!” No doubt, “for sentimental reasons,” you hate to think of your son being

killed—but It was the proudest day of your life when you watched him march away to fight in France. By the way, Bill Smith, the loafer, must have a different brand of sentiment from your son and yourself—the "sentimental reasons” that impelled your hoy to rush to the colors at the first call don’t seem to have moved Bill very much. For some reason—sentimental or otherwise —he is still

sticking to his bld job—whittling in front of the post office. If your son dies in France —gives his life fighting for the freedom of America—fighting for the freedom of that very Bill Smith, the loafer —how much do you think your grief will be assuaged by the reflection that even if your boy did have to die your “sentimental reasons” have been sustained and Bill is still loafing to his heart's content. If your soldier son -makes the' supreme sacrifice how much consolation will you find in the knowledge that if Bill. Smith, the loafer, whom you shielded “for sentimental reasons” had been forced to work on some war job more food and supplies might have been sent to France and your boy might have lived. Maybe your son isn’t at the front yet —but he is certain to be there soon, and the longer you delay “for sentimental reasons” in seeing that your friend Bill Smith, the loafer, is not sent to the chain gang or the farm, the longer it will take your boy and hjs companions to do their job. , Maybe you have no sons. But your neighbors have —and they are over there. But don’t allow your “sentimental reasons” to be directed to them! Oh, no! Don’t try to help the noble boys from your county who started out for hell with a smile just because they are real Americans! Don’t let your sentiment turn to them —but be sure and protect Bill Smith who is not fighting, nor working, not doing anything except encumbering the face of the earth with a useles carcass. Be sure and refrain from complaining to the sheriff about him — “for sentimental reasons!” Between vagabonds and heroes let your “sentimental reasons” flow to the first, of course! When the casualty lists come out you won’t be saddened! You can banish all grief by saying: “Oh, well, these fine lads are dead, but worthless Bill Smith is safe! I lived up to my sentimental reasons! I kept him from having to work, even if real men had to die while he loafed.” Sentimental reasons! See that every idler in your county goes to the rock pile or goes to work—“for sentimental reasons!”