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Horace Kephart Journal 22

By 1862-1931 Horace Kephart

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Horace Kephart (1862-1931) was a noted naturalist, woodsman, journalist, and author. In 1904, he left St. Louis and permanently moved to western North Carolina. Living and working in a cabin on Hazel Creek in Swain County, Kephart began to document life in the Great Smoky Mountains. He created 27 journals in which he made copious notes on a variety of topics. Journal 22 (previously known as Journal XII) includes information on characteristics of people in general. Click the link in the Related Materials field to view a table of contents for this journal.• PRISSIO 0 O!IO s • • , ATTEN ION, ATCHFUL SS . ~ ~itPJ~· a ~ . 1 . ..:..:io..;:t;......4.. M· .l..,,...l -~~ 6 FLIPPANCY . 7 EXCITABILITY. PHLEG . ~· 1i ~~ 014 ~ ,_.~ .,4.._;&--~ ]4. ~ 1%- ...d£-~. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ...dL 1 ~. D T I ATION, OBSTINACY. ~,L.,.-~. ~r:t.~j ~'Sif~~· C£iak~. ~ H c.k.~. DOUBT, HESITANCY, IRRESOLUTION. II PATIENCE . IMPATIENCE. AFF!Rl ATION . ~. GATION. ~~~./~ COMPLAC NCY. 16 IRRITABILITY. IJ PLEASURE. HIGH SPI ITS, CHE RFUL •S . • "And since neither Janus nor Chronos nor I Can hinder the crimes Nor mend the bad times It's better to laugh than to cry." li 19 AMUS tNT . fhrr-1. _,ttn.:k. t(~ ~. JOY . ECSTASY, Mental. PAIN • • LOY SPIKI!S. DEJ CTIO • "In the lives of eaoh one of us, as we look back ard and review them in retrospect, there are certain desert wastes from which memory winces like some tired traveller faced with a dreary stretch of road. Even from the security of later happiness we cannot contemplate them without a shudder. Time robs our sorrows of their sharp vividness, but the horror of those blank 1 gray days never wholly passes. It remains for ever at the back of our consciousness to remind us that~ though we may have struggled through it to the heights, there is an abyss. We may dwell, like the Pilgrim 1 on the Delectable Mountains, but we never forget the Slough of Despond. Years after ards, Jill could not bring herself to think of that brief but age-long period which lay between the evening when she read Derek 1s letter and the morning when, with the wet sea-wind in her face and the cry of the wheeling sea-gulls in her ears, she stood on the deck of the liner that was taking her to the land where she could begin a new life. It brooded behind her like a great, dank cloud, shutting out the sun­shine." (Wodehouse, The Little Warrior, 129.) LA1TCHOLY. (t ;Ja., vU.. .-:1: ~ : u.,._~ .L'~ ... 'UN<- -fw-'- A ~ ... t;t- ~-~oW>- ! (t ~"- veL, .uL-~: u....~J.:~, ~~..tt,~ ... ~t-~-~·'" (Q~, ~- ~~/,;...... ~'m.~~ ~-) GRIEF. AGONY, ent 1. EXHAU TION, NTAL . PASSION . Definition .- Passion consists in t11e ef ectc produc d on the spectator ' s emot onal nature as his sympathy follo~s the characters tliTough the inc dents of the plot; it is war as distinguished from Kriegspiel . toulton, l86 . Devices or ~ntensiryine tl1e atrain .-MoU1ton, l91 , 196-7 . ;;o FAITH . I HOPE . SUSPICION, SC~PTICIS .~./.TOPICS OF THE TIMES. 7~ ~ hrly lli ~um~ Both Sides tat' a Itt ta not a happy Offended on I At any rat It t by t=alrneu. uot an aay on , :tor b , a mll18'1Y more than anybody 1 , Is oxpooell to att&ek trum both altl In 11ny war, actual or m~taphorlcal, tha.t Ia goln1r on. It b among tht• common t-ru1tl ll&tld f his llllrlen~ 1 to b charged by ev.dt ot ha antac-onlsts with tavotlng an•l aorv­tnc tho oth r, and h Is lucky tr thr. ac:­cueatlon 11 not o.ccompanh tl b)' lfrnl 1 euggftlltlona Utat the tavorlntr and a rv­Jnc ar dono tor 11. prko 11 ld by th tlendl9h foe. l'ln Jy lllu tratlng thla p cullarlty of the journallstlo lot 111 a I ttcr just r • celv d trom a r ador o! 'l'ur. TlM~a whtl a.nnouncea that tor a. W'hllo ho 1 to b a reader. • 'ow, u ually, wh n ,a IUbscrlb r fflela mov d to tho de p rn.te mmumro of stopping hi pnpct'-thn t ulthnatP. f< rm or <'<•Jttl••mn tl .,, nd llllll lshn nt It 111 h u c .,r <lin• roem nt "llh otllnlou r pre ~"<1 on t.h• P.dlt rial paao. 0WecU11u. to liL1r and ~Jllilll.l't!Jil ~· TENDERNESS . • COMPASSION, PITY . Home_ _ Home is the place where your everyday clothes are, and where some-body, or something needs you. ~· _../. L~ r.;~ . .A-u-.~.,;-1 ,!I., r· 3J6:J "Then, Rob rt. on, you know what hap­pened. I got sick of it. I began feel­ing homesick; I wa~m't home~ick for you, nor for anybody else, but just for ew York, and for this old tenement down here. Som way, I couldn't keep my mind off it; and all of a sudden I woke up to why that was; it's bccausr it'~ home to me; it's b<· cause I belong herr; because I've friends here who care for m , people who don't car a damn if 1 am a loafer and hate work, people I could sometimes do a hand's turn for, for all of my being a down and outer. That's all. l just came ha k." (~~~- &~-~·,J-t-ft.t..,f.l-'-7·) RI NDSHIP . FRIENDS THE GREATEST NEED Paator Tella of Woman Who Preferred Slum• to Solitude. The ltc\', Dr. );'rank 0. Jlall, paatOI' ol t hn Unlv rsallat ::bur h of the Dh loe l'a· t~rnlt •, preached In that !lurch · ster­day a. aennon ou " So lal Ju.tlcc," the first or a 11 rl t1 arran&' a In Union Bcrv· Ices by Dr. Bt pben s. Wille, rabbi of the l!"r~" Synagcgu , and Dr. Joba llaynes Jlolmcs, Unitarian, .. 'l'hl'ro 111 alway& an 'If' in friendship I twnys ondltlOnll that lftUIIt b tnet IJ p opl are tu be and to r maln trl ml • he said. " Jt Js a good thins to be rich, ' 11nd n. good thing to be atrons. but It Is a l•ettor thin~ to be belov d by mQ.ItY frl nds," R&ld 11lu'l'lpldel. .. A while ago aomo charltablfl P opln took pity on a poor woman with man~· 11mall chlltlr n who wu living Itt want ami ~qm~tm· In a mlanrablo hmetnf!nt ot our city. 'l'h l' r und a little boue In the I country fnmlshrd It, I!UPPlled It with the nccc&~lt\eM or llff', and with cr@at antlcl· lpaUon8 plo••e•l the oman and children th rn wh ro the)' might bnvo th lr own l•nn1o' frco tro111 the nola and dirt of thll ell), with npr>nrtunltY' for the chlldr n t'o pta.y out doors 1\1111 keep well. nut In a ftow w ks th ) found the house d rt d. 'l'hll woman ha.l fl"d with her broOd hank to th• t•ltv 11h1m ~he 1<ald: 'I alwava rlld llkf\ I'OOPlll bPtter than 11tump•.' lf the truth bo tolol, Wll nil do "• r "'ouhl ra.'.hct· u,·c on a. lamppost In Nf'W York City.' s~tlll n. frlrnd of mlno, • than to llvo nlono In tho most haxurlou• 11uburl.lan mansl<m that wa11 over built.' In that he wu _r_lgh_t_:~· --~----- Nothing remained for me then but to grin and bear it, and bide my time. That I had friend of my own was to me a source of that kind of consolation which is largely pride. antyre and th Coningsbys, Regina Barry and her mother came clo. er to me now than anyone with whom I had ties of blood. "Our relatives," George Sand write somewhere, "ar the fdends ~tiven us by Natur ; our fri<'nds are the relatives given us by God." As relatives given m by God I rgarded Lovey and hristian and olonel Straight and Pyn and Beady La­mont and all that band of humble, helpful pals to whom I was knit in the bonds or the "robust love" which was the atmosphere o( brave old Walt Whitman's City of Friends. There was no pose among them, nor condemnation, nor severity. Forgiveness was exercised there till st'Vl'nty limes s v n. They forbore one another in lov, and n­d avorcd to keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of p<'ace to a degree or which Someone would have said that II had not found the like, no, not in Isra 1. My family were all of Israel, and of th strictest s ct. They fasted twice in the week, so to speak; in theory, if not in practice, they gave tithes of all that they posses ed; they could sine rely thank God that they were not as such men nfl compos d tho Down and Out; and yet it was pr cisely among those who smote their breasts and didn't dare so much as to lift up their eyes unto h aven that I found tho flympathy that raised me to my feet and bade me be a man. No wonder, then, that that evening I kept poor old Levey nar me, that I took him down to the caf~, whore there wer only men, and made him dine with me and tQld him of my bereavement. LOYALTY. TREACHERY. J: £. -n,.,J-. Mischief Makers J- '/:z' THE crime of tr a on is mor ommon than m n . up­pose, for n arbitrary definition written in statute books cannot make le treasonable tho. e disloyal cts of which the statute takes no account. If the law should define th ft as th wrongful taking and carrying away of an­oth r's purse, would the culprit who I ft the purse and mad off with its cont nts be I . a thief? In America tr ason is defined as levying war against the Unit d States, adhering to th ir en mies or giving their en mies aid and comfort. This d finition is arbitrary and wholly inadequate. A b tter definition, and one that more accurately m shes with the common understanding of mankind- the proper t st of d finitions - i that giv n in th work named Brit­ton, whose authorship is lost in the mist of England's yesterdays. Here we are told that tr ason is "any mischief don to one to whom the doer represents himself as a friend." Treason, th n, is a mischi f done in violation of pro­f!:' ss d friendship an act of disloyalty to one to whom allegiance is due by reason of friendly pr tensions. If t'lectl'd official , by reason of stupidity or indifT renee, waste the mon y intrust d to them by th p opll', they work a mischief under cover of prof s d fril:'ndship. To say that th y violate a trust does not xpr !IS the whole of th ir off ' ns . To waste tax mon y is to I vy another and unnec ssary tax; to make war upon the purs s of th people; to give aid and comfort to the nemy, which is the hard necessity that requires men to sweat for their bread. If a public servant uses the advantage of his office to get a profit by dealing in commodities the people must buy and by reason of his activities the price of these commodi­ties is increased, he is a traitor in spirit and in fact. His clear intent is to fatten his own purse by doing the people a mischief. He not only delivers the people into the hands of an enemy but shares the enemy's profit. One who is set to guard a gate and for a price opens it to the barbarians is not guilty of a greater treachery. If a number of men conspire to increase the price of a necessity or conspire in any enterprise that inevitably will increase the price of a necessity and work hardship upon the people, their action is treasonable. They are not traitorous to the king, for there is no king; but they are traitorous to the whole people, who are the state. These men, with other citizens, are partners in the enterprise of government. The partnership supposes a common cause. It does not forbid the taking of profits in exchange for service, for one may serve his friends to get a Jiving and violate no principle of honor. But it does forbid conspiracy for the purpose of extortion. Those who conspire to wrest an unjust profit from the necessity of the people do not profess enmity. To profess enmity would be to invite destruction. They operate under the guise of friendship and work a mischief that is more than a breach of alle­giance, more than adherence to an enemy- that is, in short, an act of warfare in quest of spoil. We need to revise our definition of treason. Treason is not merely an act of disloyalty in time of war. This defini­tion is the progeny of an age when kings were rulers by divine right and subjects were pawns to be sacrificed in the royal game of slaughter. Peace hath her treacheries no less infamous than war's. When war is forgotten a traitor will be a traitor still. And we must learn that the citizen of a republic, whether an official or a private citizen, is guilty of treason when he violates the confidence of the whole people, who are the state, and does them a mischief. ADl.IRATION. ~f,.;Y, ~~,A~~~~~~-~~. VENERATION. I ·'I LOVE . "Into her mind, never far distant from it, came the thought of Derek. And, suddenly, Jill made another discovery. She was thinking of Derek, and it as not hurting. She was thinking of him quite coolly and clearly and her heart was not aching. She sat back and screwed her eyes tight, as she had always done when puzzled. Something had happened to her, but how it had happened and when it had happened and why it had happened she could not under­stand. She only knew that now for the first time she had been granted a moment of clear vision and was seeing things truly. She wanted Wally. She wanted him in the sense that she could not do without him. She felt nothing of the fiery tumult which had come upon her when she first met Derek. She and Wally would oome together with a smile and build their life on an enduring foundation of laughter and happiness and good-fellowship. Wally had never shaken and never would shake her senses as Derek had done. If that as love, then she did not love Wally. But her clear vision told her that it was not love. It might be the blazing and crackling of thorne, but it was not the fire. She wanted Wally. She needed him as she needed the air and the sunlight." (Wodehouse, The Little Warrior,359.) "'Is it wrong to tell a pretty woman you admire her?' 'Under our circumstances, yes.• He twisted himself around in the seat and eat looking at her. 'The loveliest mouth in the world!' he said, and kissed her suddenly. She had expected it for at least a week, but her surprise was well done. Well done also was her silence during the homeward ride. No, she was not angry, she said. It was only that he had set her thinking. When she got out of the car, she bade him good-night and good-bye. He only laughed. 'Don't you trust me7 1 he said, leaning out to her. 'It is not that. I do not trust myself.' After that nothing could have kept him a ay, and she knew it. 'Man demands both danger and play; therefore be selects woman as the most dangerous of toys.• A spice of danger had entered into their relationship. It bad become infinitely piquant." (K., by Mary Roberts Rinehart, 170.) RO!LANTIC LOVE . I' DorothyDix ~/iss ixteen Is Advenfttrous, Romantic, Trusting of !rangers, Dissatisfied With Pare11tial Control, Eager for Strange New Thrills- Is It Any Wonder Sweet Si:xteen of nL Is uThe Dangero t ge" for Girls? 11 11 I ud '\\ oret thin IF1 tAgn or th sarn<' ett!rnal prisl<lon: and ft r. Or ahr m k<•a som 11 r h l•l'in g H Pll} a.n<l fortunat at<'h rl1UII!ag bctw n DO O'T'TIX D • TOWN OF TY, NORTH CAROLINA LOVE. (The Saunterer, to 'Mary: ) "Love is indeed the greatest thing in the world, for it has th greatest power for either good or evil. Love exalted is heroic. True love is unselfish, sacrifices self for the loved one's sake. But there is another kind.- "! have seen a refined and adorable woman look fondly into her lover•s eyes, with the artle s sincerity of an angel, and lie, lie, lie. ~ "I have seen the pattern of a ~en i , guest in a comrade's home, take by stealth from that bosom friend his most precious je el, use her as a pawn, and dr g his friend's honor in the dirt. "Common love, selfish love, hen balked but yet goaded on, will commit ny treachery or crime. It will steal, it will bear false witness, it will covet a neighbor's m te, it will commit a ultery, it will dishonor a father and a mother, it will do murder,~ J it ill curse God." ~ J ••• UNREQUITED LOVE.-- "Rejected suitors take to roaming as naturally as unhived bees." (Hardy, Return of the Native.) ----------------------------------- ------ Falling In Love - By Dr. FRANK CRANE ~ F lling in lo~e is one of the Jn countable phenomena o.1 the human race. The Orientals explain it by claiming that we have hacl a previoua existence and that those in the present existence touc~ us who have some hold on us due to a life that is past. • Whether we accept this explan~tion or not there is no doubt that falling in love is one of the inexplicable peculiaritie~~ of our race. It is connected also with the creative instinct and it is safC!I to say that those who are not capable of falling in love with anything are not capable of creative work either in the liber~ arts or elsewhere. · It is a well known fact that many famous men. have bee._ reputed famous lovers; this h s been set down in their disfavot' ns proving that they were loose morally when, a11 a matter oE fact, morals had nothing to do with it. Love was simply an essential demand of their nature.. They had to be in love with something in order to do their best work. Much of the vagaries of those who have a<"hieved f m«:~ can be thus explained. ' Jt is not that they lack a sense of the respon ibilities of life. or that they are not willin<7 to undert ke them, but that they; need for their 11u tenance n enthusi sm that is only bred in the~ by the presence of affection. It is a mistake to think that any person is too old to need the fire given him by love. While ther is life there is love, or should be. It is well for those who are upremely endowed with tho capacity for affection, if they are endowed al o with those moral inhibitions which prevent them from indulging their capacity in forbidden directions. It would be well al11o for the friends of great men to re~ member this need of their nature and to feed it properly. No one can exist in a constant atmosphere of negation, and fire that is suppressed in one direction will break out in another. ('opyrlght, 1~24 , "''Tho lure Tc'l\.!lJlll.Jll'r Sy nd i _ _ '0 'N 'AJ.I:J NOSA~B .l~V'Hd3}.t 3~V'~OH LOV • 38b2. "Th t mn d ~robl m o self-sacrifice! Ho much cl 1m ha men upon ach other? What did ohil r n gain who s orificed their lives for their parents? It aa sup­posed to bring them nobility; but, t the same tim , idn't it v lop in th parents the utmost callous s lfishness; didn't the latter, as their needs were e elusively consulted, grow more xacting, unreasonabl ? s not love itself the most unreason-ble and exacting thing imaginable? Once surrendered to it, the tyranny of a beloved subject wa absolute: Lee tol himself that the emotion he was considering -- the most sacred of earthly tie -- ignominiously resembled the pro erties of fly paper." (Hergesheimer, Cytherea, • Y., 1922, Knopf, 91-92.) '"This love isn't t all understood-- we are ignorant about it in spite of endless expari nee and reports and poetry. Take us before e re married, Whlle we were engaged, we had an imprac­ticable romantic attr ction for ach other. I know that I thought of you all the time, day an night; and, just because you existed, the whol world w s full of prismatic colors; it was as though an orchestr were laying continually and I ere floating on the 'inest mu io. You re lik a figure in heaven that dre me up to you. 11, th t lasted quite while into our marriage; at first I had an even reater emotion. Then, as Helena and Gregory were born, it changed. I don't say it deere sed, F nny, that it lost any of its importance; but it di change; and in you as ell as m • It a n•t as prismatic, musical, and there's no use contradicting m . I can explain it best for myself by saying that my feelin for you bee me larg ly tenderness.' "'Oh!" Fanny exclaimed, in a little lifting gasp; "oh, and that ten erness," her cheeks were bright with sudden color, 'why, it is no more than pity.' "'That isn't just," he replied; "unless you ant to speak of pity at its very best. No, that won't do~ my affection for you is made of · 11 our experi noes, our liv s and emotions, together. We are tied by a thousand strings-- common disappointments and joy and sickness and hope and pain and heaven knows what else. We're held by habit, too, and convenience and the opinion of society. Certainly it is no smaller than the first,' he argued, but more to himself than ~ Fanny; 'that was nothing but a state of mind, of spirit; you can't live on music.'" (Do, 93-94.) (Stenographer:) "'But what about love, Mr. Randon7 That's hat throws me off. Some say it's the only thing in life.' 'I'm damned if I know,' he admitted. 'I hear the same thing, an I am rather inclined to believe it. But I have an idea that it is very ifferent from what most people insist; I don't think it is very useful aroun the house; it has more to "do with the pretty hat than with a dishpan. If you fall in love go after the thing itself, then; don't hesitate about tomorrow or yesterday; and, above all else, don't ask yourself if it ill last; that's immaterial.' 'You make it sound wild enough.' 'The wil er ~he better,' h insisted; 'if it is not delirious it's nothing .Q (Over.) ~f- 1 ], . 10utr geous! I n•t r ke out why you t ke it so coolly. ina Raff's a rott n 1m or 1 oman; it doesn't matter ho it' rr­anged. Why, • she gasped, 'she can be no more th n Peyton's mistress, no better than the om non the treet .• 'That is o,• he gree . But his follo ing que tion of the acce ted badness of mistresse n tre t- lk rs he isely ke t to hi self . ere they arker than the sh do cast by the inelastic institution of matrimony? At one time prostitutes ere greatly honored; but that had pa sed, he was convince , forever; and this, on the whole, he conclu d, as fortunat ; for, perhaps, if prosti­tution ere thoroughly iscredited, marriage might, in some Elysian future, be swept of most of its rubbish. Houses of prostitution, mistresses, like charity, absorbed and dissipated gre t deal of the dissatisfaction insep rable from the present misconceptions of love an society. The first move, o viously, in stopping ar, w s the suppression of such ameliorating forces as the Red Cross; and, conversely, with complete unions, infidelity ould languish and disappear . " (Do, 118-119.) "' hat dm you think woul happen if or a while e'd lose our ideas of h twas right and rong in lev ? 1 'Pandemonium,• Grove repli promptly. 'Not if people were more responsible, William,• Sav na Grove added; 'not for the superior. But then, 11 laws an order were made for the good of the mob (my Italics)-.--I~ 1 t nee the policeman I see in the streets; and, really, I haven't a scrap ore

Topics: Emotions; Character; Temperament;
Publisher: Hunter Library Digital Collections, Western Carolina University, Cullowhee, NC 28723;
Year: 2017
OAI identifier: oai:wcudigitalcollection.contentdm.oclc.org:p16232coll8/1562
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