An American Idyll
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Title: An American Idyll The Life of Carleton H. Parker
Author: Cornelia Stratton Parker
Release Date: February 7, 2005 [EBook #14943]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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[Illustration: Carleton H. Parker]
AN AMERICAN IDYLL
THE LIFE OF CARLETON H. PARKER
By
CORNELIA STRATTON PARKER
[Illustration]
BOSTON
THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS
1919
_The poem on the opposite page is here reprinted with the express
permission of Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons, publishers of Robert
Louis Stevenson's Works._
_Yet, O stricken heart, remember, O remember, How of human days he
lived the better part. April came to bloom, and never dim December
Breathed its killing chill upon the head or heart.
Doomed to know not Winter, only Spring, a being Trod the flowery
April blithely for a while, Took his fill of music, joy of thought and
seeing, Came and stayed and went, nor ever ceased to smile.
Came and stayed and went, and now when all is finished, You alone
have crossed the melancholy stream, Yours the pang, but his, O his, the
undiminished, Undecaying gladness, undeparted dream.
All that life contains of torture, toil, and treason, Shame, dishonor,
death, to him were but a name. Here, a boy, he dwelt through all the
singing season And ere the day of sorrow departed as he came._
_Written for our three children.
Dedicated to all those kindred souls, friends of Carl Parker whether
they knew him or not, who are making the fight, without bitterness but
with all the understanding, patience, and enthusiasm they possess, for a
saner, kindlier, and more joyous world.
And to those especially who love greatly along the way._
PREFACE
It was a year ago to-day that Carl Parker died--March 17, 1918. His
fortieth birthday would have come on March 31. His friends, his
students, were free to pay their tribute to him, both in the press and in
letters which I treasure. I alone of all,--I who knew him best and loved
him most,--had no way to give some outlet to my soul; could see no
chance to pay my tribute.
One and another have written of what was and will be his valuable
service to economic thought and progress; of the effects of his
mediation of labor disputes, in the Northwest and throughout the nation;
and of his inestimable qualities as friend, comrade, and teacher.
"He gave as a Federal mediator,"--so runs one estimate of him,--"all his
unparalleled knowledge and understanding of labor and its point of
view. That knowledge, that understanding he gained, not by academic
investigation, but by working in mines and woods, in shops and on
farms. He had the trust and confidence of both sides in disputes
between labor and capital; his services were called in whenever trouble
was brewing. . . . Thanks to him, strikes were averted; war-work of the
most vital importance, threatened by misunderstandings and
smouldering discontent, went on."
But almost every one who has written for publication has told of but
one side of him, and there were such countless sides. Would it then be
so out of place if I, his wife, could write of all of him, even to the
manner of husband he was?
I have hesitated for some months to do this. He had not yet made so
truly national a name, perhaps, as to warrant any assumption that such a
work would be acceptable. Many of his close friends have asked me to
do just this, however; for they realize, as I do so strongly, that his life
was so big, so full, so potential, that, even as the story of a man, it
would be worth the reading.
And, at the risk of sharing intimacies that should be kept in one's heart
only, I long to have the world know something of the life we led
together.
An old friend wrote: "Dear, splendid Carl, the very embodiment of life,
energized and joyful to a degree I have never known. And the thought
of the separation of you two makes me turn cold. . . . The world can
never be the same to me with Carl out of it. I loved his high spirit, his
helpfulness, his humor, his adoration of you. Knowing you and Carl,
and seeing your life together, has been one of
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