h Xi i ah mm L Volume X. Boomer, North Carolina, September, 1920. Number 7. THE HELL QUESTION There is .no such place as hell, No ever-burning lake of fire, Where hoofed and horned devils dwell, And tortured souls cannot expire. The God that made us out of clay And gave to us our human breath, Has said, .s plain as words can say, That sin's sure penalty is death. If death is what a man must pay For leading here a life of sin, Will' God then trade some other way? Where does the endless hell come - in ? Eternal death is bad enough; - Eternal torment would, be worse. - Where do men get that silly stuff 'That they have added to the cruse? If death is life, then bad is good, And black is white, and cold is hot. How then can words be understood? And how much meaning have they got? When God declared that saints should be Alive while sinners should bedead, I'm fool enough to think that He Meant just exactly what He said. James Larkin Pearson. GUESS WHO. You couldn't guess in a month of Sundays who is the author of the following quotation : "If there is one thing we love more than another in the United States it is that every man should have the privilege unmo lested to utter the convictions of his mind." Who did you say ? Wrong! Guess again! Gene Debs? No-sir-ee ! Oh, you couldn't guess it in a thousand years. The man who daddied that beautiful American .sentiment is a well-known mon arch by the name of Woodrow Wilson the very same Woodrow please yer onner, who is keeping Gene Debs in prison for daring "to utter the convictions of his mind." Now if that ain't consistency with a vengeance, I jlist want you to hush, as Tom Watts says. How can the brazen-faced hypo crites expect anybody to have confidence in them, when they "talk like a saint and act like a devil ail in the same breath ? If the troubles that have come -to The Fool-Killer had befallen any other paper in the world it would have been dead, buried and forgotten a long time ago. But The Fool-Killer is made out of "sterner stuff," as Postje Paul jays. No matter what happens, it just grits its teeth and lives right n. ADAM SMITH, EVE SMITH, AND OLD MAN SATAN BROWN. I am while. a millionaire for a little T i j I own a thousand acres oi tne nnest level ana iertiie lana in the. State. I lay me out a beautiful estate spend enough money on it to make a veritable paridise for beauty. I have or chards and flowers and fruits and everything lovely to the eye. A little sparkling stream of pure water runs through it. In fact, nothing has been omitted that money can do to make it beauti ful. Then when I get my beautiful estate to the point of perfection, I look around over the country and pick out a man and woman to live there and keep it up for me. The people I happen to select are named Adam Smith and his wife, Eve Smith. I establish Mr. and Mrs. Smith in my paradise and give them orders to take care of it and keep everything in perfect shape. I promise them a permanent home there as long as they live, and they shall have plenty of everything they need to make them happy. A 11 11' T 1 Among otner tnmgs, i nave a great many colonies of honey bees, and I tell the Smiths to be carefuFabout the bees. I warn them not to kick over the gums nor poke their neads into them. And not try to steal out any of the honey to eat. Make free with everything else, but let the bees alone. Those are my orders to my tenants. And so I leave them there. But old man Satan Brown comes along and says : "Looky here, Smith, why don't you and your wife eat some of Pearson's honey?" "Why," replies Smith, "Pear son told us the bees would sting us it veJiothered them. He said we musn't eat any of the honey." The very idea!" says Satan Brown. "Not eat any of that good honey? Afraid of bee stings? Huh! Why, Pearson don't know what he is talking about. The bees won't sting and the honey is awfully good. Please get out some and try it." Well, Mrs. Eve Smith sorter liked the idea and she WAS get ting pretty hungry: for som( honey, anyhow. So she slippec around and turned over a gun and grabbed out both hands ful or comb dripping with Qvjpot nectar and she ran to 7 n IT with it and -thro wed half of it in his lap. About that time the bees which had grot thoroughly stir up, just literally covered both of them; Old Satan Brown was peeping around the corner of the hen house and just fairly busting his sides laughing. ' Well, Smith and his wife began to yell and bounce around lre something awful, and in the time of it they ran over six i th d . d th over. Then they split out through the flower garden and just naturaly laid everything flat ! as they went. Bolting into the house, they left the north door open, and the wind blew the fire out on the carpet, and the house was soon in flames. The Smiths were scared half to death, and their faces were swelled so they couldn't see. So they bounced ip and down and screamed until the house, barn and everything was in ashes. Then they ran off and hid on the bank of the creek. I came back and saw what had happened. I hunted them up and demanded an explanation. They said: "Well, Mr. Pearson, we are awful sorry, but we couldn't help it. Old Satan Brown is to blame. He told us that the bees wouldn't sting, and that the honey was good to eat and lie in sisted that wTe try it once. Hon est to goodness, he is to blame for all this." Then I went and hunted up Satan Brown and said : "Looky here, Brown, you've butted in over at my place and caused my tenants to get nearly killed with bee stings and on top of that caused everything to get burnt up and destroyed. And now, because of what you have done I am going to give you a position of authority over iriy tenants. I now authorize you to get a big supply of brimstone and old boot legs and go to that swag just below the cherry orchard and build a hell there. I want you to build good strong furnaces and fix it to last forever for I am going to turn over to you that Smith family and all their descendants and I want you to torment them in hell forever and ever. I know you are a heap more guilty than they are, but in J 1 J T J spite oi tnat i am going to em ploy you to punish them for what you caused them to do. It won't hurt you a bit. You'll enjoy it. But you must make it hot for them Smiths." And Satan Brown thanked me and went off whistling down the creek to fix his hell. - The Literary Digest recently printed a picture cf Millionaire Com aoout sucn a snacK as tne wnitej House at Washington. Must . i t 1 1 1 TTTl i nave cost several millions. But owner oi tne mansion is go - around making speeches to one-gallus Rubes and telling cnem yes ! 1 1 now lie loves them! Yes, lust like a cat loves the mice! BACK TO THEIR VOMIT. The Fool-Killer does not enjoy using nasty words, but some times there is just no way of getting around it. The world is so full of nasty -evils that need to be exposed, and it . can't be done without using words that may sorter shock some of you. There is . a class of political jumping jacks in this country who are just like the Biblical dog sooner or later they always return to their vomit.- And they are about the most sickening and I disgusting critters in the whole political pasture-. There is Hi Johnson And there is Borah. And there is LaFollette. You remember how they rip ped and raved and tore their hair all up and down the land for several months. They were the leaders of the Anti-League crusade on the Republican side, and they were "progressive" and "radical" till you couldn't rest. They couldn't find words ugly enough to express their contempt for the old reactionary gang, and any man who favored a league of nations had just as well pre pare to die. Great reformers were John son, Borah and LaFollete ! . Great champions of liberty ! Oh, how their hearts did bleed for the poor and oppressed! And, oh, how their two-edged tongues did peel the hide from the Old Gang! Debs himself was never more bitter against the plutes. But that was before the Chi cago shindigv That was before the Old Gang quietly applied the toe of its $20 shoe to thatpartf of Johnson's person which the law and my good manners will not allow me to mention. That w&s before a little bunch of millionaire senators got to gether and nominated a suit of cVvthes for president, and adopt ed the most brazenly reactionary platform ever hatched on these .shores. Then what ? Why, simply this: Our great "reformers" sud denly lost their zeal. Johnson, Borah, LaFolette and the rest were no longer "progressive" or radical." The need for all that was past. They must be "reg ular." They must get down on their knees before the suit of clothes which their .party had at nominated ana swear it, was in?,f. 4- i If I i . what they wanted. support it with all ti ihe must their strength ; and advise all ether fools to do ! thp smtip And so that is rhat they did. .jonneon ana ins loliowers were either liars and hypocrites (Continued on page 2, col. 1.)

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