VOL II.
MORAVIAN FALLS, NORTH CAROLINA, JUNE 1911.
NQ. 6.
PLEASE RENEW.
THE MOO-COW-MOO.
If this paragraph is marked with a
crofis mark, it means that YOUR SUB
SCRIPTION HAS EXPIRED and that
you will not get any more Fool-Killers
unless you renew. The' Post Office
Department has a ruling which com
pels me to take your name from, my
list unless you keep your subscrip
tion paid up. Now I would hate
mighty bad to mark off your name;
and I earnestly hope I will not have
to do it. You have been feasting your
funny-bone on my philosophical fool
ishness the past twelve months, and
I'm going to just boo-hoo like a spoilt
baby if you don't crawl up on the
front seat and ride through the. alma
nac with me again. : This isv the dull
seas 01, and your renewal will come
in nighty handy just now; -so please
rush it in, and as many others with
it a you can get.
You ' can every one afford to pay
the little mite I charge for a subscrip
tion, but in order to make my propo
sition still more attractive to you, I
have decided to make you old sub
scribers a VERY SPECIAL OFFER-
This offer only applies to those whoset
subscriptions expire with this issue.
If tliis article is marked it means you.
Here is the offer: SEND ME TWO
YEARLY SUBSCRIPTIONS TO THE
FOOL-KILLER AT FIFTEEN CENTS
EACH AND I WILL RENEW YOUR
SUBSCRIPTION FREE. This offer
holds good till the 25th ' of July but
will no,t be good after that date. So
rush in your renewal club at once.
Just send me two new names and
thirty cents, stating that you want
your subscription renewed, and Til do
the rest. ' u .
' Boys, don't neglect this opportunity
to get The Fool-Killer another year
free, it will be better than a three
ring circus and a . moving picture
show, with a monkey and a bag-pipe
thrown in for good measure. Let us
rise and sing that old-familiar, hymn,
"Now who will come and go with me?
I'm bound to read The Fool-Killer."
. .. -
My pa held me up to the moo-cow-moo
So clost I could almost touch,
En I fed him a couple of times, or two!,
V En I wasn't' a fraid-cat much. ' 1
n . ..
But ef my papa goes into the house,
. En mamma, she goes in, too, - , ytf
I just keep still, like a little mousei'
For the' moo-cow-moo might - moot
The moo-cow-moo's got a tail like .a
rope, . t i ' :
En it's raveled down where it grows:
En it's just like feeling a piece of soap
K All over , the moo-cow's ' nose. ;
En the moo-cow-moo has lots "of- fun;
DANCING SCHOOLS.
Lawzy, mercy! , If that don't cork
up the bottles good and stout, I'll be
doggon.. Just imagine what v the peo
ple belonging to the hifalutin. class
haVe come ; to.u "Why, things have ' gal
loped along at such a break-neck
speed that it takes a fellow with the
mind of 'a lightning, express to keep
in sight. These highflyers have tram
pled, under feet all the benign" ani
divine teachings of Christ that ; labot
was a noble calling; that without do
ing a' reasonable share of it the vaf
riousMlml)s 6f the body could not be
properly exercised . and developed;
and, further,, that w&s the honest t way
to make' a livelihood. Yes, this teacht
Just swinging its tail about; .: tingv has 1 beeii; set , aside and, held fp
En: he 'opens hia-mouthand rtheti -ashtJaftd, tba jajtrifji x?tlare
run :
'Cause that's where the moo comes
. - -., .. ': i , i
OUt. " ' '
En the moo-cow-moo's got .deers on
his head, . .
v En his eyes stick out o' their place,
En the nose o' the moo-rmoo-cow is
spread ' , .
All over the end of his, face. -
Edmund Vance Cooke.
SHAME ON 'EM
This howling wilderness which we
call "Christian ; America" recognizes
no j;od but the Dollar. Any person
who says it does is either honestly
mistaken or" a wilful' liar. Every
time the United States mint turns nout
a coin bearing the molto'In GodjWe
Trust," it coins a flagrant falsehood
that will rise up in judgment and
condemn us as a nation.
The whole 1 fabric of society : is
honey-combed with corruption ' and
reeking with rottenness, iScandal
and scads, rascality . and riches, go
handdn hand, and they are the only
things that can open the gilded doors
of society to a man ' or woman. Jf
you want to' stand in with the 400
foolish' fops of garrulous Gotham or
any other center of snobdom, you
have got to be financially sound and
morally rotten. Society never en
quires ?, how you ; got "your dough or
how you lost your ' decency; ' so long
as your pocket sags heavily and you
are willing to go the gaits. Maudlin
matrimony, promiscuous paramours
and doodlebug divorces constitute the
sum of life, in swelldom.
Oh, for a law that would compel
these kid-glove kangaroos, to get, out
of their, gilded dens and .follow k ,a
burly Buckeye Binder in the blister
ing sun! And, oh, for another, law
that would lift the be-jeweled and
be-alimonied female fops out .of their
sealskin slippers, and put them to ply
ing, a ; pair of greasy overalls . across
the .corrugated , bosom ,of.,a wash
board! . , . .
putting ujk "dancing schools'' all over
the land in which to spraddle out in
pretty proportions, skinning cats,
kicking up their heels and locking
their arms around one another and
squeeze-squelching about, etc. V
And the churches have been caught
on the swift wing, too. Now many of
them have dancing schools for their
members as places of amusement ana
entertainment. ' And when they get
behind with their dues, they get up
some game that has a high-sounding
name 'and invite all the sisteren and
brethren to attend and contribute so
much in the jackpot toward paying
off the debtthe debt that is duevthe
devil, of course. Now if such work
as this ain't swinging hairs oft the
heavenly high-ups, I'm a monkey. '
I don't believe in such means of
exercising and amusing. I believe
In the good old way. 'There's always
enough 'of necessary work and walk
ing to do to afford all the exercise
necessary for the proper development
of all the limbs of the body. And that
pampered, spoiled class of ihdolents
who abhor this ought to be put out
on the public pikes and' made to beat
rock from early morn' till . sundow
without a bite of . grub to eat during
the day. If the devil , ain't about , to
.wag -the world and the, church both
as he pleases on ? the tip end of his
tailj I've got wool over my eyes, by
4ieck. The Big Pistol. , v ,
"THE TORCH OF REASON."
J: ' Li y ing 1 somewhere in- the -, wild
North, West,, where the Lion roareth
and the r Whangdoodle nwhangethi is
4! ; twpTlpgged I man-;beasl; who calls
himself ; Frederick Forest Berry.
This fellow, Berry ;has writ a novel
Torch of .'Reason; or, Humanity's
God " The object of Berry's book, is
to i; hold up the ""torch , of. reason" to
humanity and prove that there isn't'
any God, He says it is " a terrible
crime to believe in a God, or to" be
lieve anything else . that you can't
Why - Berry, r you old sin-soakea'
sense aa a sucking turkey You ain't "
jgotuisucheascjiag.. Urnt,r;riq'r;as I
much gumption as a grub-worm."
Berry, you certainly are a. huckle-
Berry. You are also a goose-Berry.
Your old heart is - black-Berry, and
your arguments ain't worth a straw-
Berry. And when you go to hell the
deyil will get his due-Berry. He will
take his red-hot poker and give you
a poke-Berry, and If you don't change
your mind it will.be a wonder-Berry.
Talk about "reasoning out" things!
Why, you infernal ( fool , you can't
"reason out" your own poor, v pitiful
existence here in the world to save
you from the devil. Fact of the mat
ter is, I think you are an ethnolog
ical accident andY got lodged on this
planet by mistake. Your home is
in hell, and I'll bet old Satan is walk-
int thft TPrt-h nt nn vpm on fa . nf ."nfirrli-
"a . . -, r ; ; - ,
tion right now and singing, "Where
is My Wandering Boy To-night?"
Even the devil don't; like for his
children to be meaner than he is
himself,, but . I'll be 'sniggered if you
ain't running the old' fellow a close
race. If you had. started into the
business of being a devil at the same
time old Mr. Satan did, you ? would
have been so far ahead of MrnHn
hellishness that it would have taken
eight ; dollars to send a postal card
back to him.
Look here, madam, if you are. tied
up for life to a . thing- that drinks' Hi
ker; chews ? tobacco, -j smokes, ; cusses
and. plays cards, I'll tell you what I'd
do: I'd.' just spit ont the .thing, and
drown it. ,
Everything is high in this country
except our ? state of civilization. :
When you stop to think about " It,
people are awiui muuy imugo. - n
tickles me. -: iKl . ' , .
. When a man- has failed at every
thing else he either goes into the real
estate business or tries to preach. -