Newspapers / The Fool-Killer (Pores Knob, … / May 1, 1915, edition 1 / Page 1
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THIS PAPER, IN SPITE OF ITS NAME, DOES NOT BELIEVE IN KILLING PEOPLE. VOL. VI. MORAVIAN FALLS, NORTH CAROLINA, MAY, 1915. NO. 3. WHAT IS THE NEWS? "What is the news in the paper to day The news from over the sea?" The reader he flecked his fat cigar, And a billowy puff puffed he. "Oh, nothing it speaks of a little fight, But it reads like childish play; A trifle of fifty thousand dead--There's nothing important to-day. "The city of Skippit was burned last night, And half of the people killed; The living have fled, and the bloody streets With charred black bones are filled. The British Dreadnaught, Mindyer biz, Torpedoed in Dareyou Bay; The blood in Flanders is only knee deep There's nothing important to-day. "Not more than twenty-five million men Are facing the shot and shell, And a trifle of ten times that, per haps, At home 'mid terrors dwell. Oh, my! It's an awfully dull affair! Why don't they fight some? Say! Here take the old paper I'm done with it all There's nothing important to-day." James Larkin Pearson. NOTHING TO IT, MISTER ! A correspondent whose mind runs in that direction wants me to uncork a new bottle of wrath and pour it out on the head of Jack Johnson. "Why, Mister, there are just oodlins of betters subjects, and I hate to waste my breath on such a sorry one. I reckon you have in mind Jack's picture in the mud down at Havana, where he lost out in favor of a white bull-neck named Willard Well, honey, what do you want me to sav about that pair of greasy bull-necks? I don't see anything to it, nohow. If it was an incident that anybody could get honor out of, why, then I d be glad for my own race to have it. But I can't figure out how it is a credit to any race to produce the biggest and toughest brute. It may be a big thing, but nothing to be so darned proud of, as the boy said about the boil on his neck. A bear has got more guts than a humming-bird, but that don 't make us, like bears any bet ter. Let s change the subject. The poet Longfellow is said to nave remarKea on one occasion that "in this world a man must either be an anvil or a hammer." Shucks in August ! I wonder if Longfellow never ran up against any of these fellows who insist on being bellowses? PLUTOCRATIC PRAYER Oh, thou fool Laborer who art a slave, but who couldst wrap us Capitalists around thy little fingei if thou only wouldst try, we pray that thou mayest never discover the power which lies at thy hand. We pray thee, O Laborer, to go on laboring with thy hands, and let not thy mind get active con cerning the problems of life. Per mit us to do thy thinking for thee, O Laborer, because thinking is hard work and we would fain de- iver thee from it. We earnestly beseech thee, O Laborer, to read not any history, neither try to reap benefit from the experience of others. We ad mit that .thou couldst do it, but we pray that thou, in thy simple minded goodness of heart, will re frain from so doing. We Plutocrats, being very wise, are aware that we are m thy hands and at thy mercy, but we thank thee for thy profound ig norance on the subject- Upon our bended knees we beg thee to re main ignorant. Yes, We would that thou mightest become even more ignorant and dull, if that were 'possible. We pray that thou will let us furnish thy reading matter and we will see that thou gettest nothing but good Capi talist dope, such as will put to sleep all thy discontent. If thou hast permitted any Socialist paper to enter thy cabin,, we pray that thou wilt burn it immediately. We pray that thou, 0 Laborer, wilt let thy mind dwell much on duty, patriotism, love of country, and so forth. It should make no difference to thee that we own the country and that thou hast noth ing. We will permit thee to love it just the same. And when the time comes we will permit thee to go and fight for the country we own, just like thy patriotic broth ers in Europe are doing- And if thou shouldst happen to get home alive, we pray that thou wilt go to work again and pay the war tax for us. We must not forget to thank thee for thy vote, 0 Common Plug. Thou hast voted for us and against thyself for, lo, these many centuries, when nothing compel! ed thee to do it except thy own block-headed ignorance. We know that thou couldst vote us out of power quicker than howdy, but thou dost not know it. Some, of those infernal Socialist papers have tried to teach thee, but thou hast patriotically refused to learn. Thy unselfishness surpasses any thing that we have ever known Now, O Laborer, thou Common Plug, ;who are also a Very Valu able Fool, we. pray that thou wilt not forsake us in this hour of need. We, the Plutocrats, have never before been placed in such a critical position as we are in to-day. We have the power, but we don't know what minute it may be snatched from us. It is not out of the range of possibil ities that this war which we have started may get beyond our con trol. It has just occurred to us that thou mayest be so hard hit that thou wilt wake up. And hence-we beseech thee to slumbei 6n. Slumber on and on. We are safe so long as thou sleepest, but when thou wakest we are all un done. And permit us, we pray thee, O Laboring Fool, to furnsh thy dreams while thou sleepest- We have them all ready made, and they are guaranteed to never come true. Thou mayest dream that we, the Plutocrats, are thy friends, and that all our promises are good. Thou mayest dream of liv ing under prosperous conditions and having all the good . things that thou wouldst like to have. In fact, the more thou indulgest in such dreams the less danger there is that thou will wake up und realize the truth of, thy- awful condition. Therefore we pray that thou wilt slumber on, and that thou wilt continue to labor and vote for us in thy sleep. AMEN. A SERMON ON "THE WIM- MEN FOLKS." Dear Flock: You will find my text for this occasion on tne Zdra paere oi Blum's Almanac for the year 1915, and it reads as follows : '''Be. sure you are right, then ask your wife-" If this turns out to be a poor sermon it won't be the fault of the text. If I am any judge, the text is all right, what there is of it and plenty of it, such as at is. Ask your wife. If you don't ask her, she is mighty apt to tell you, anyhow. She knows. No matter what it is, she understands. Anything a woman don 't "know and can't find out is lost for cer tain. You can't fool the wimmen folks. But tkey can fool you mighty slick. If you want them to know something they are as ig norant about it as a kitten is a bout Scripture. But if it is some thing you want to keep them in the dark about, they will know more about it than you every time. That is a peculiar habit the wim men folks have- It's mighty un pleasant for the men folks some times, and often gets them , into tight places. But more often the place seems tight because the men were tight before they got in it This is a peculiar habit the men folks have. Therefore ask your wife. You couldn't find her Sunday dress in a week, but she knows all about where your tuther breeches are at. And if you left anv monev in r V W the pockets, she probably knows where that is, too. "THE WAY PEOPLE FEEL. Great Humptidoodle ! Caesar's Ghost and Molly Haw kins! What fools we have all been! After all our frantic and vain efforts to discover the cause of the business depression and hard times, here it is as plain as a fly in your biscuit. We are indebted to one W. H. Belk, a plutocrat of Charlotte, N. C 4. .1 i-i. v-, j.ur turning on xne iignt. une oi ine Charlotte Observer's whick- ergoddled reporters took a Dr. Pierce account book and a penny pencil and started out to smell around for a good juicy lie for his paper. Having some sort of: ia tutive knowledge that thev kett such things at the Belk department store, He turned the toes of his number tens in that direction. How is business ? " asked the reporter to Merchant Belk, and what he failed to get in the way uxi mxormaiion will never De miss ed. Now give prayerful attention to Belk 's answer: "Business is good. You don't hear any talk of hard times any more. People are feeliner 'hatter. and they are trading. A larcre element in the depression last fall was simply in the way people felt-" Why, of course. Our FEELINGS are to blame for it all. Why didn't we think of that sooner? But then, you know, habit has a heap to do with it. Man has been living in ignorance and sin so long that his confounded "feel ings" have got the best of him. When he is hungry he FEELS hungry. When he is ragged he FEELS ragged. - When: his ppcket is empty, soikei how it just will FEEL empty, f don't know whyfbut it does. When a fellow -is hungry" and ragged, and out of money, and out of a job, and in debt, and has worn his shoe-soles to the quick chas ing 'around after another job and can't find it well, it may be that fellow's solemn Christian duty to suck wind and swell out his belly and FEEL just like the president of a railroad, but it's develish hard to do- The government is trying to en-" courage sheep raising, so they say. The officials are probably needing more wool to pull over our eyes.
The Fool-Killer (Pores Knob, N.C.)
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May 1, 1915, edition 1
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