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 
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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 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN 
AMERICAN IDYLL *** 
 
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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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