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The fool-killer. (Moravian Falls, N.C.) 1910-1917, March 01, 1910, Image 4

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn91068502/1910-03-01/ed-1/seq-4/

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THREE DRUNKS A YEAR-
SAUSAGE.
HELLO THERE!
Three times a year is not too
often for a srentleman to get
drunk," said Daniel Noble at Ja
maica, New York, the other day.
And this gentleman went on and
delivered a loner lecture on the
crying need of at least three bend
ers a year.
I wish I could have heard that
lecture. And I would give: my
yearly allowance of red-eye to get
a legal definition of the word
"gentleman" in this connection:
Some men call themselves gentle-
men who are not recognized as
such by their neighbors, and I
sorter 'spicion that this New York
booze-artist is one of that kind.
JL J UUUUl UC IVUUVYO V-ll U 11 IV
business from the bottom up, but
he wouldn't know a gentleman
from a lamp post in broad day
light. I take it that he is one of
these old continuous-performance
drunkards who gets half-sober
three times a year and goes out to
whoop it up for the likker gang.
Three drunks a year! And.ach
drunk four months long! If that's.
what it takes to make a gentleman,
I prefer to be something else.
What do you say about it,
Mister?
DR.. MARY BOBS UP
Tmust confess with sorrow that
I had almost lost sight of . Dr.
Mary Walker, the famous woman
in pants. Carrie Nation, Mother
Jones and Evelyn Thaw had kind
of shoved Mary out of m.y recol
lection. But just at the psycolog
ical moment she bobs up serenely
with her pants on and her feet in
her pocket.
mere may oe otner woman s
rights," such as voting and hold
ing office, but in the mind of Dr.
Mary the great burning issue is
breeches. She has been in the
background awhile, but now she
re-appears to demonstrate that
she is not dead nor dying. Thirty
years of breeches have not cooled
the zeal of Dr. Mary. If there is
anything she loves more than a
pair of pants, it is another pair of
pants. You can refuse to give
Dr. Mary the ballot if you want
to, but if you know what's good
for you, you will not interfere
with her breeches.
On another page J have gien
you a little chunk of poetry called
4 'Let My Old Breeches Alone,"
which Dr.' Mary can change just
a little and use as her campaign
song.
Hurry and get up that club for
The Fool-Killer. As my audience
grows larger I'll keep on making
the stuph warmer. Hurrah!
t
The farmer drove
To town one day
To sell a load
Of rotten hay.
He also sold
His aged mule;
The man that bought him
Was a fool.
But it turns out,
By hook or crook,
Some fools are wiser
Than they look.
And this same fool
That bought the beast
Was wise enough
This time, at least.
The farmer went
Back home and stayed
Until another
Crop was made.
The old mule soon
Passed in his checks,
But this did not
His owner vex.
He did not bow
Down to defeat, ,
But ground that mule
To sausage meat.
A restaurant-keeper
Bought it then,
And sold it out
To hungry men.
'Twas saged and peppered
Awful nice,
And retailed at .
A handsome price.
The farmer again
Did come to town,
And to the restaurant
Wandered down.
"What'll you have?"
The waiter cried;
"I'll take some sausage,"
The farmer replied.
He then sat down
And ate and ate,
. Until he had
An awful bait.
He told. the waiter
About a fool
Who bought from him
An aged mule.
He laughed, and then
Was heard to say,
'I wonder where's
That mule today?"
The waiter said,
"You silly fool!
You've just been eating
That old mule!" "
The farmer fainted
Dead away,
And lost his mind
That very day..
Stop!
Look!
Listen!
the other eye and went to see her
dance that night.
The same people who admired
and applauded the nude, sensual,
voluptuous dance on the public
every- stase would have yelled for a
policeman if they had caught the
woman doing the same
I want the attention of
body.
If you believe in decency, sober- same
ness, uprightness, honesty and fair stunts in a back alley.
play, then you are a friend to The Strange, isn't it?
h ool-Killer. But here is the other nart of the
-The object of this paper is to story. If some mere man should-
hang up by the heels all kinds of attempt the very ordinary feat of
sins, shams, humbugs and hypo
crites, and skin them blood raw.
TheFooI-Killer is going to be
known as the Sam Jones of the
journalistic world, and while it
Oh, little muley, don't you cry.
For you'll be sausage by-and-by
undressing on the stage, the police
would nab him before you could
say scat Not that there is any
more real harm in a naked man
than in a naked woman, but it
will not devote all its space to re.- just isn't in accordance with the
ligious subjects, the entire weight ethics of society, and must not be
of its influence will be on the side tolerated for a moment.
The morals of. the stage are
very loose, , giving women great
liberty, but even there they draw
the line at mere man. ..The poor
fellow must keep his clothes' on
COTTON SEED BISCUITS.
Bread made of cotton seed flour
was exhibited in the Chicago board
of trade recently by Charles Stern.
of religion, truth, justice and
clean living. -
If at times. I use rough lan
guage, there's a reason.
Some of the fools that need
killing have such tough old hides or take the consequences.
that nice, smooth talk don't have
any effect on them.
And so I have to go after them
with a club with horns on it.
Whoop it up everywhere you
go, and let the people know that
1 "EV-1
here and was a decided novelty. The
T 1 1 I i .' ! !i li. .. . ! .in i i -i
worm ana warning to ana iro m it. Dreaa, aitnougn en aays oia, was
sweet and nice, and resembled brown
bread, being one of the best imita
tions of Boston brown bread that has
been seen. The cotton seed flour was
Ilh qiv vnn enn.tp.ra. ' nn vnn n, . , - .
- ' rex. rne nour can oe naa at jpo a
remember how you went down in ton, or 1 1-2 cents a pound. People in
your overall, pockets and fished Texas are booming H as a substitute
out the price of a ticket to see
4 4 O - 1 5? J 0
Of course you do.
She had on nothing much but
WHAT ABOUT NAKED MEN?
a pair of diamond ear-rings and a
The cotton-fields of God be
praised!
Here it is at last. 4
Bring forth the bread-pan and
tailor-made smile that reached all let us beat a royal tattoo with the
thft wav to her little nink feet. old iron spoon that mixed the
- v - I
Mavbe von had never before dough of our forefathers' bread.
seen a daughter of Eve with her
mother Eve's wedding dress on,
but you- had an idea how she
would look.
All the good church members
Decorate the cotton-gin with
red, white and blue ribbon!
Cover the old cow's feed-box
with a tow sack.
And let us sing a song that will
of your acquaintance told you the make the dishes dance in the cup-
Salome show was too indecent for board.
anything and yet they went, Storm the warehouse, grind up
i . .t -- I u i .c . 1 li. u u :
every last one oi tnem. xou a uaie U1 UULLUU aAlu ie uie uau"
went, and saw, and was conquered, quet be spread.
and went again. Notwithstanding Away to the cotton-patch let
the howl that was raised against the siren song of the murmuring
the indecency of the nude per- leaves drive dull care away.
formance. a maioritv of the kick- tove me cotton-seed biscuits
f my d
ers could have been found on the straight no wheat in mine!
front seats the very next night. If a little cotton seed is good,
As a precaution against getting give me more.
their modesty shocked, they had Let the plant that produces my
carefully wrapped it in cotton bat- shirt produce my bread also.
ting and left it at home. Let us rob the old cow of her
Tt. was nroner to kick iust a supper yea, let us feast on cot-
- - i
littlft. of conrsft inst pnoncrh to ton seed forever.
" , 3 " -
advertise the show. The preach
ers got up in the pulpit and de-
Hurrah!
Save your money and buy cot-
nounced "Salome," then winked ton seed.
r i

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