THE YOUNG AMERICAJN
March
A Snapshot at Harding
(We have something very interesting this
month—something' in the way of a surprise. It
will be recalled by his intimate friends that on the
first day of March the editor was afflicted with a
timely inspiration, which consisted of one of the
BIG IDEAS of the month and which caused him
to go through all kinds of comical antics for sev
eral days, the chief stunt being that of scratching
his head with his litle finger. Always wanting
to oblige his subscribers to the maximum extent,
he conceived the generous idea of sending our
chief member of the reportorial staff to Washing
ton to secure a snapshot of Warning Gee Hard
ing on inauguration day. The price of the ticket
being exceedingly low, as repoiters have special
rates, we secured a loan from a patriotic citizen,
which we expect to repay on the thirtieth of Feb
ruary next, and waved our representative good-
bye.
Our reporter came in this morning, via the rail
road, with a flour sack tied under each foot, an
empty stomach and his pants several sizes too
large for him, due to the fact that he had lost ten
pounds of flesh somewhere along the road. He
had a pack of elevn friendly, country hounds fol
lowing him, all about as hungry as himself.
It apears, according to the reporter’s confiden
tial report to me, that the president did not offer
him a free return ticket, as we had expected and
that the fifteen dollars which we gave him did not
suffice to sustain him on the return journey. He
had given away—the liberal-hearted thing—-his
last thirty cents to some disappointed Republican
office-seekers in Washington and divided his last
piece of Limburger cheese with the ex-President
and his family.
We print his report herewith. Although the re
port concerning hard times at the White House
may be abit disappointing to local politicians, we
apologize for any hurt feelings, as we know you
can bear it as well as our representative could the
trip.”—The Editor.)
I am chief, best and most handsome reporter
on the staff of the YOUNG AMERICAN. I sup
pose that is the reason—my good looks of course!
the editor came to me the other day and said:
“Oh, bv the Vv^ay, you might take a little spin
over to Washington and interview Harding.”
“Sure,” said I. “I had almost forgot that.”
“But, wait!” said he. “You needn’t write too
long a storv on such a trifling interview’. Our pa
per might be better occupied with something
else.”
I si'suected that he was a Democrat.
The journey was a p’easant one. The scenery
between here and Ihe Capitol is splendid.
I changed socks and collars twice on the jour
ney, once at Jamestown and again in the smoking
room. I also changed a nickel to buy a stick of
0. K. chewing gum for a little lass in my car,
’vho.sc beauty seemed to throw a halo of dreamv
mist over my spcctacle-i’immed eyes. In r.eturn
for my courtesy, she gave a smile—to the man
sitting next to me.
Upon arriving at the White House I iminedi-
ately went down the long corridor leading to the
President’s private office, brushing aside anyone
who dared obstruct my way. I used the name,
YOUNG AMERICAN, as password.
Despite the fact that it was about midnight on
the third of March there were great throngs of
people encircling the White House.
I entered the president’s office unheralded, to
find, with great surprise, Mr. Wilson and Mr.
Harding shaking their fists vehemently at each
other. I did not retreat, but planted myself behind
a friendly chair to view the verbal combat. I
knew that if this rukus resulted in a fistic battle,
someone would be needed to hold the coats and I
might come in handy in this capacity, as I have
done the same thing before back in the home of
fice when the editor and business manager took
a notion to exchange mits with each other to de
termine which should take the odd cent from a
subscription.
Mr. Harding opened his mouth so far in the ex
citement that his jawbone cracked, but he got Mr.
Wilson told, nevertheless.
“You get out of my house,” he said.
“What did you come into my house for?” de
manded Woodrow.
Harding got hard. “It’s time for you to vacate,
I say. My watch shows one minute after mid
night.”
Woodrow got wild. “Yes. but your watch is
wrong. My watch savs one minute ’till twelve and
MY watch is NEVER wrrng. The league of na
tions guarantees that no man or country shall in
vade the home of territory of another man or
country, until the first man or country has given
permission to the other man or country.”
Of course, when both Mr. Wilson and Mr.
Harding referred the matter to me, I confessed it
was a delicate matter to deal with. However, I
suggested that the chief justice of the Supreme
court be called in, which was promptly complied
with.
Upon investigation the judge found that both
watches were wrong and that both men should be
out of the White House at that time, as the house
keeper must have a few hours in which to sweep
out the Democratic tra.sh to give room for the Re
publican. So Mr. Wilson went out on the lawn and
took a seat on a stump on one side of the walk,
while Mr. Harding took a seat of the same denom
ination on the other side of the same walk.
Thinking that Mr. Harding’s interview would be
of more interest to the American people at the
present time than that of his contemporary, I
seated myself on a brickbat that lay at the foot
of the stump.
“What do you think of the future of this coun
try?” I asked, taking my pad and lead pencil in
hand with a professional air.
Mr. Harding stared at me with hard-boiled eyes
Continued on page 6