An American Idyll

An American Idyll

The Project Gutenberg EBook of An American Idyll, by Cornelia Stratton Parker This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
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 the most perfect things in my life."
An Eastern professor, who had visited at our home from time to time wrote: "You have lost one of the finest husbands I have ever known. Ever since I have known