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The NEW BERN
PUBLISHiD WIBKLY
IN THI WAIIT OP
lASTERN NORTH
• O >1' V •
- he
VOLUME 16
NEW BERN, N. C. 28560, FRIDAY, JANUARY 4, 1974
NUMBER 41
U you-’re middle age or older,
you cw recall the emphasis
placed on correct spelling when
you came ailong in school. It
didn’t end in elementary
grades, but remained important
right in to the night you
received your diploma.
This editor still winces when
even, simple words are
manned, but at such times we
are reminded of a salesman
who wrote ■ the following
business letter.
“DEAR BOSS. I seen this
outfit which they ain’t never
bought a dime’s wortti of nothin
from us and I sole them a couple
of hundred thousand dollars
wuth of guds. I am now going to
Chawgo.’’
Two days later, a second
letter arrived at the home of
fice, reading thusly: “I cum
hear and I sold them half a
milyon....’’ Both letters were
posted on the bulletin board
with a note appended by the
company president.
“We bin spending too much
time hear trying to spell, in
stead of trying to sel,’’ wrote the
president. “Lets’ watch those
sails. I want everybody should
reed thees letters from Gooch
who is on the rode doing a grate
job for us, and you should go out
and do like he does.”
Which reminds us of the one
about the man who got a job as
sexton for a cemetery. His
duties included cleaning off lots,
when requested, but he had
never learned to read and write
and was unhble to identify the
lots by the tombstone in
scriptions.
This brought on com
plications, and he was fired
from hfr position. Years went
by, and he became a l^hly
successful business man, a
millionaire, no less. During a
television interview,, when an
award was being presented to
him, a commentator raved
about his phenomenal reewd.
“I don’t mean to embarrass
you,” the announcer said, “but
where would vou be, pray tell
me, if you had learned to read
and write?”
I’ll tdl you where I’d be,” the
honored gentleman replied,
“I’d be raking leaves in that
cemetery.”
Those of you who happen to be
baseball fans, and some of you
who aren’t, know that Dizzy
Dean was once a pitching great
for the St. Louis cardinals. His
feats landed him in the Baseball
Hall of Fame at Cooperstown.
After retirement from the
diamond, he was given radio
and television contracts as a
sports announcer because of his
colorful way of conversing. This
was in the midst of the Great
D^ession.
Anything but a scholar. Dean
murdered the King’s English
every time he appeared at a
microphone. This created
constant consternation among
PTA ^ups, and th^ com
plained bitterly that Diz was
ruining the vocabularies of teen
agers who listened to him
r^^arly.
So vehement were the ob-
(Continued on page 8)
“Winter Sports—Coasting in the Country,” by Granville Perkins.
. From Harper's Weekly, Feb. 17, 1877.