Tne New School House

The New School House

In Washington, D. C, a bequest of more millions for education was announced. To the announcement was pinned the eminent name of Brookings. Students of social sciences devoured the information greedily. Dry are the subjects (economics, political relations, government administration, etc.), perhaps, to the casual student to whom education means plenty of furious football. Robert Somers Brookings long ago thought otherwise. Orphaned at two he went to work at 16 without the benefit of education interspersed with footballs. At the age of 22 he became a member of the reorganized firm of Samuel Cupples & Co., St. Louis, and re mained its manager for a quarter century. During that time the Cupples Company was agent for many firms; owner of potent enterprises. So shrewd was Mr. Brookings' management of the Cupples fortunes and his own that 32 years ago he retired. Thereafter he devoted his keen talents to education and benevolence. President of Washington University Corporation, St. Louis; President of Robert Brookings Graduate School in Economics and Government, Washington; an organizer of the War Industries Board; on the Foreign Purchasing Commission with Bernard M. Baruch and Judge R. S. Lovett through which all monies loaned by U. S. to the Allies passed for war purchases in the U. S.; Legion of Honor; regent of the Smithsonian -- are a few of his heavy list of posts and honors. He is now aged 78. In Washington were three institu tions catering to students of social sciences: the Institute of Economics, the Institute for Government Research, the Robert Brookings Graduate School. This trio merged into the new Brookings Institution. The trustee list, formidable, includes:

Mr. Brookings.

Frank Johnson Goodnow, President of Johns Hopkins.

John Barton Payne, Chairman of the American Red Cross.

George Eastman.

Ernest Martin Hopkins, President of Dartmouth.

Paul Moritz Warburg.

Arthur Twining Hadley, President Emeritus of Yale.

Raymond Elaine Fosdick, of Curtis, Fosdick & Belknap.

David Franklin Houston, President of Mutual Life Insurance Co., former Secretary of the Treasury.

Word

The English language is a menagerie of words. Some of the words are as wild and terrible as brown bears, some are as sudden and delicate as gazelles; some, when they are led out of their cages to the pavilion of print, growl and mutter, roar like lions or bark like foxes. The word "tolerance" is a small blind rabbit creeping into a heap of refuse. "Evolution" is the word that many people find the most terrifying of any in the zoo. It is a huge sly creature with barrel chest and four foot arms. It has a flat skull and sly, surly eyes. Last week, disregarding the signs that forbid feeding the animals, one J. H. Tate, principal of the Farragut Grammar School, near Knoxville, Tenn., threw this horrible creature a roasted peanut.

Principal Tate spent a good part of his time explaining to the eighth grade how and why the theory of evolution was incredible and wicked. Last week pupil Elizabeth Walker scampered up to Principal Tate saying, "What is the difference between evolution and revolution?" Principal Tate told her what revolution was; told her to look in the dictionary for the other word. Elizabeth Walker did so; she found that it meant, "a process of development." When the class heard this they wriggled on their chairs, frightened. Said one small girl, her big brown eyes very wide open, her voice very hushed: "Evolution means to come from a monkey." Principal Tate answered her quickly: "... a man named Darwin wrote a book about that theory but no man ever said the theory was true." Then Principal Tate placidly remarked: "Any one who does not believe in a policy of self development might as well . . . leave school."

The children sat very still for a while after that. They could see "evolution" dancing around in his cage, twinkling his terrible eyes at them, smiling at them with his wide black lips. Soon he would jump out of his cage and wrap his arms around them. One little girl jumped out of her chair and ran down the aisle. She went straight home. Soon another one followed her. "They told their parents what Principal Tate had said. The next day the parents of the two girls together with other parents called on Principal Tate. Then they called on the chairman of the school board, R. E. Boring, and on the high school principal, J. M. Colson.

They objected to a teacher who would use the word that Principal Tate had used in front of their children. When Mr. Colson asked one of the parents what "evolution" meant, the parent said: "I do not know and I do not want to know but I do know that I do not want my children to know anything about it, either." The result of this to-do was a request that Mr. Tate, anti-evolutionist and Deacon of the Baptist Church, was asked to resign as Principal of the Farragut Grammar School.