Blue Grass Blade

Post.

The French are still celebrating the centennial anniversary of the birth of Victor Hugo, that master of thought, who has made the world feel and weep.

His greatness was of a kind that knows no limits. Hugo belonged to the world.

You have read his works?

If you haven't, go to the Public Library and study Jean Valjean and humanity, the same humanity that existed when Hugo was born, and exists today, and you'll find that Hugo took his thoughts from the lives of the poor and oppressed. He awakened interest in suffering, for the ages, by baring wounds to the world, and you can't forget them. You can't shut your eyes and blot out the human misery that Victor Hugo took for his text.

No man ever made charity seem more divine or sympathy more comforting. No man ever labored more incessantly for the elevation of those who toil, and the workers of Paris knew and remembered.

Jeanne Girard is a working girl, poor, but honest. There are thousands of her kind in the world's wickedest city. There are as brave, honorable, upright girls there as any city in the world.

And Jeanne Girard was selected out of 2,500 working girls to place a wreath on the statue of the friend of the toilers.

There were no bands of music, no grand parade—only a few thousand working women—seamstresses, waitresses, clerks, toilers all—who assembled at the great statue, and, with sympathetic eyes, watched brave-faced Jeanne place a crown of flowers on the brow of the inanimate object that stands for A MAN.

It was a beautiful tribute, a bit of fine sentiment that awakens new regard for the memory of a man who was the friend of those who need friendship, sympathy and justice.—Cincinnati Post.