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a Year 15 Cents in Clubs of Five or More. When you get hold of something good, pass it around. Send in a big club. no THIS PAPER, IN SPITE OP ITS NAME, DOES NOT BELIEVE IN KILLING PEOPLE. SJOT.TTTHTl! 7 BOOMER, NORTH CAROLINA, AUGUST 1916. NUMBER 3 l JAt J; ec: s' 1 Made to Order. Wish I had a poem Or a little fool song That I could stretch out About three inches long. This corner of the paper Looks odd and undone Without a few verses , All gracefully spun. But my poetry mill Is run down at the heel, And the papers print nothing That is fit to steal. What on earth shall I do? It's awful! Oh, drot it! I need a poem SO bad And now I've got it. BLEEDING. The old time doctors were great believers in " bleeding' ' as a cure for every disease known to the human race. If you had anything from the seven-year-itch to chronic laziness and called on a doctor about it, he would look at the. bottom of your foot, feel of your pocket-book, and bleed you. You generally got well, and you believed the bleeding cured you. And maybe it did. But sometimes you died, and then you are sure you would have died anyhow, and it wasn't the fault of the treat ment. The bleeding habit has been mostly out of date for a good while, but now it seems to be com ing back on a world-wide scale. All the nations of the earth have got something bad the matter with their political guts, and they are falling back on the old custom of "bleeding" to cure what ails 'em. But I notice that the great poli tical "doctors" who prescribe "bleeding" as the remedy for the world's bellyache are always yery careful not to let it be tried on their own -precious, royal veins. They love their country, and they want to see it cured, but they-are perfectly willing for it to make out with the common cheap blood from the veins of the workers. But looky -here, nowi If the blue blood of the master class is bo much more rich and precious, why wouldn't the spilling of it buy a better grade of "liberty" than the blood of us poor scrubs? Why wouldn't it "consecrate the ground" better and make "freedom's soil " produce a richer harvest of durned fools? -- move that we give it a trial, any h0W. , J j . THE FLOOD! Well, we got ours this time. We had read about floods in other parts of the country, but we had somehow made up our minds that they would never reash us here in the mountains of Western North Carolina. But we were mistaken. North Carolina has been visited by the most destructive Flood that ever hit this neck of the woods. The rain began falling on the evening of Friday, July 14, and continued all that night, all the next day, and all the next night nearly 36 hours of the hardest rain that ever fell in these moun tains. The creeks and rivers came up like magic, covering the valleys and climbing the hill-sides. So sudden, so rapid, and so un expected was the rise in many places that the people living in the valleys had to run for their lives, leaving everything to be swept away by the Flood. Some people did not even save them selves, numerous cases of people drowned or missing having been reported. .1 As soon as the flood waters went down so that the wreck and ruin could be seen, it was an appalling and disheartening sight. All growing crops were enner swept out oy tne roots or buried in mud. Bridges, rail roads, homes, factories every thing in reaeh of the flood- either washed entirely away or drifted into a mass of mud- covered ruins. The property loss in my own home county (Wilkes) is esti mated at two to three million dollars. Our railroad was so bad ly damaged that for two weeks we wereTcompletely cut off from the outside world. All wires were down, the mail service knocked out, and we were practically set back a hundred years into the past. I couldn't get my shipment of paper to print The Fool-Killer on, and I couldn't have . sent it out if it had been printed, so just had to wait. Being nearly a month behind already, this , calamity has put me stiM further behind, and now there is no chance of getting out an issue for July. The last issue was for June, and you will notice that this one is dated for August. I do this in order to keep pace with the hurrying feet of Time which, by the way, was the only thing not held up and de layed by the Flood. Time went right on. It always does. And The Fool-Killer is going right on, too, if another Flood don't come and get what little this one left. So let everybody grab a wheel and roll. In other words, send in as many big clubs as you can. During the coming fall and win ter let's cover the earth with Fool-Killers as never before. OH, HELLUP ! We Are Invaded! The Whole Mexican Army is in the Benited States. Most of people know that this country is in trobule with Mexi co, but mighty few of them have any idea how it started or what it is all about. Well, it started like this: There is a little group of multi millionaires in Mexico who own two-thirds of all the wealth of the Benited States. You didn't know that, did you? Well, it's a fact. The leaders of this group of Mexi can capitalists are Rockario D. Johnnyfeller, J. Pusselgutta Mor- ganoodle, Andrwai Cornygut, and a few others. These men own and control the great copper mines of Colorado, the coal mines of West Virginia and elsewhere, and all the rich oil fields of the country. And they are connected up by interlocking directorates with other great capitalists until they actually hold the destiny of this country in their hands. Well, there was a strike in the Colorado copper mines, and the first thing anybody knew an army of six thousand Mexican soldiers were dropped over into Colorado to keep order and to protect the Mexican interests there. Other Mexican troops were sent into West Virginia and still others stationed around the great Mexi can steel works in Pennsylvania. The Mexican government claim ed that ks soldiers were sent into the Benited States merely to keep order, quell riots and catch strike leaders. At first we took them at their word, treated them in iriendly manner, and thought they meant no harm. But when the strikes and riots were all ended and all the lawless captured or scattered, we began to think it was time for them to go home, and President Wilson kindly requested Carranza to take the Mexican army out of the Benited States. The object that they came herer7 for was accomp lished as far as they could ac complish it, and there seemed to be no reasonable excuse why they should longer remain on our side of the border. But don't you think Carranza, the insolent half-breed, stubborn ly refused to order his troops home. He sent back an insulting note to President Wilson saying hat his army should stay here as ong as he pleased, and that we had better just lay low and say nothing. Well, that didn't look so good, but President Wilson is very patient, and so he sent another request for the withdrawal of the Mexican army, pointing out the trouble that might result if the American people should become suspicious of a foreign army on their soil. They might rise up and demand war to drive the invader out. Carranza again refused to iisten to reason, and his last re fusal was more insolent than ever. President Wilson and all our people began to see that there had been no sincerity in Carranza 's statement of his purposes all along. He had merely used the Colorado strike and the other labor disturbances as a pretext for getting his army into our country, with the evident purpose ot waging a war of conquest against us and annexing this coun try to Mexico. Natuarally that didn't set well on our stomaches, and we began to get things in readiness to pro-. tect ourselves the best we could against the Mexican army of in vasion, intervention and conquest. Ihen Carranza called out every thing that could tote a sun and started then toward our border. We were getting in a nrettv uglv humor by this time and demanded that they stay on their own side of the line, or there would be trouble. They came on. There was trouble. There is going to be more. Well I'll be ding-busted! If I ain't gone ahead here and writ this whole story right plum tail-end-foremost and . top-side-bct-tom'ards from start to, finish! That's the good of toeing always in such a hurry. But the type is already set, and I'll be civilly sarn-taked if I'm going to change it. If women would dress sensibly and quit going wild after every new "fashion" that comes along, they would be plum purty things to look at. But of course they'll sorter do as it is.