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New Bern Public Liijicuy
The NEW BERN
PUBLISHED WEEKLY
IN THE HEART OF
EASTERN NORTH
CAROLINA
Si Per Copy
VOLUME 6
NEW BERN, N. C., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1963
NUMBER 33
On our desk Is a copy of a
trade paper published by the
Pacific Gas and Electric Com
pany at San Francisco. It was
sent to us because It contains
an article by “another J. G.
McDaniel.” The other one, a
doctor, Is president of the Ful
ton County (Georgia) Medical
Association.
The article Is actually a
speech delivered by the
physician. Since It contains
more wisdom than you’re accus
tomed to getting from the J, G.
McDaniel who edits The Mirror,
we’re passing It along.
Here Is the speech, just as
It was delivered:
I remember, as a small boy
In knee britches, going with my
father to hear an address given
by Honorable Stephen Pace, then
Congressman from the old
Georgia 12th District. It was on
the banks of the Ocmulgee Riv
er. There was a barbecue, and
citizens, especially farmers
from all the counties gathered—
this was before the first World
War.
“It seemed that someone In
the Congress had Introduced a
bill that would give the farmers
some money provided they did
something. The congressman
vigorously opposed It. I have no
Idea what It was, because I
was watchlngadlrtdobbermak-
Ing a ball of mud. T}ie oongro^-
man snapped me back to atten-'"
tlon, however, when he said,
“I’m going to tell you a true
story about the wild hogs that
once lived about forty miles
down the river,”
“Years ago,” the congress
man said, “In a great horse
shoe bend down the river, there
lived a drove of wild hogs.
Where they came from no one
knew, but they survived floods,
fires, freezes, droughts, and
hunters. The greatest compli
ment a man could pay to a dog
was to say that he had fought
the hogs In Horse-Shoe Bend
and returned alive. Occasion
ally a pig was killed either by
dogs or a gun--a conversation
piece for years to come.
“Finally, a one-gallused man
came by the country store on the
river road, and asked the
whereabouts of these wild hogs.
He drove a one-horse wagon,
had an axe, some quilts, a lan
tern, some corn, and a single
barrel! gun. He was a slender,
slow moving patient man—he
chewed his tobacco deliberate
ly and spat very seldom.
“Several months later he
came back to the same store and
asked for help to bring out the
wild hogs. Bewildered farmers,
dubious hunters and store
keepers all gathered In the heart
of Horse-Shoe Bend to view the
captive hogs.
“It was all very simple,”
said the one-gallus man. “First
I put out some corn. For three
weeks they wouldn’t eat It. Then
some of the young ones grabbed
an ear and ran off Into the
thicket. Soon they were all eat
ing It, then I commenced build
ing a pen around the corn, a
little higher each day.
“When I noticed that they
were all waiting for me to bring
the corn and had stopped grub
bing for acorns and roots, I
built the trap door, waturauy.
they raised quite a ruccus when
they seen they was trapped, but
I can pen any animal on the
face of the earth If I can just
get him to depend on me for
a free hand-out.”
(Continued on Page 2)
THEY WERE DEADLOCKED—The Rams (in light jer
seys) and the Bears (in dark jerseys) can blame
each other for the lone defeats that robbed them of a
perfect season in New Bern’s midget football league.
Each won a close victory in their two clashes, while
registering decisive wins over the loop’s remaining
foes. Take a good look at these young gridders. Among
them are future stars on high school and perhaps col
lege fields of battle. Sponsored by the City Recreation
4t .-i *
■'a-,.* M.. . '
Department, the midget league was no powder-puff
circuit. The campaign produced hard running, hard
tackling, and deceptive strategy. Fans, who appreciated
the spirited brand of play that characterized every
game, needed no coaxing to show up for the contests.
Incidentally, the kids were blessed with better equip
ment than many a local high school team had a genera
tion or two ago.—Photos by John R. Baxter.