"Oh No! My Fine Gentlemen"

To the Editor of the CRIMSON:

There is that in your editorial "The Iron Man" which smacks of the hypocrite, the pharisee who always knows what is best for his brother. There is that which might well solicit from the working youth an uncultured guffaw or a contemptuous snort according to the condition of his uneducated liver.

Bless my stars he works "only eight hours a day", he has "money to burn", he "throws to the winds his money and himself". Now I ask you, where in the devil do we get the right to pass such a judgement on a chap who, if nothing else, is at least a producer How many hours a day do we actually work--if mastering usless data that we take care to forget as quickly as possible can be called work? And how do most of us spend our leisure time which the working youth ought to consecrate to the noble task of furthering civilization? In proportion, just about the same way as he,--in pool rooms, lounging about town (we have the hotel instead of the street corner), at the stage door (we can aim higher), jawing to each other about everything natural to young barbarians. And in proportion I should say there were just about the same number among ourselves who really care for education. Only there is this difference: they have to struggle along after a day of hard physical labor, picking up what crumbs of knowledge they can find, while we have it handed to us on a silver platter, with a widow to feed us if necessary.

Oh no! my fine gentlemen, it is not we who should object to their "foot-loose, devil-may-care attitude". If they took an example from us they would throw up their jobs and loaf all day instead of a few hours. How does the bible put it? Pluck the mote out of your own eye first, or something like that. I don't know. I have been too busy furthering civilization to give much thought to it. EDWIN SEAVER '22

Nov. 16, 1921.