The Nonpartisan Leader Newspaper, March 11, 1918, Page 16

Sherry. Saltpork’s Idea Of A Good League BY I. B. RIPP, the Reporter EER Mistur Editur: It has bin so dingfizzled cold up here that the steam that belches frum the locomotive freezes in big bales uv ice an’ goze boundin’ along the ralerode track an’ smashin’ down telefone poles an’ fence posts jist like they wuz wheat stubble. Theze chunks uv ice bouncin’ across the planes reminded me uv the time when me an Alexander the Grate wuz on our way to the Hellespont to git across into Asia an the Teracians took their stand in the Haemus mountains an’ rolled big rocks down on us. So me an’ Stick got bizzy an’ sent a request to Mr. Hoover to give us a coldless day. But it seams that the request got on the rong wire an’ landed in the _office uv Mr. Garfield an’ he gits bizzy an’ gives us a coalless day. But I'm not on the track I started to get outo so will back up an’ git on the right track. No suner did we git outen O-me-my where we attended the ressurrecsshun cervicies uv the anti-farmers’ leeg than we got a hurry-up telegram frum Craf- ty tellin’ us to proseed at once to Fer- gusfalls to attend the North Minnesota Idiotorial Association. Stick wuz very much pleezed with this an’ so we beet it fur the aforementishuned place, post haste, az it were. We got thar a day or two before the Idiotorial writers arived an’ so had time to look over the city an’ see the sites. “IDIOTERS” FIND PLACE TO THEIR LIKING One day while takin’ a walk fur our helths an’ to keep frum freezin’ to deth we suddenly cum upon a bunch uv big buildings on the hills out north- west uv town. We stopped an’ looked at ’em in awe an’ amazement fur about a minnit. Then we seed a sine over . the door uv one uv the bildings which red, “Lunitick Asylum fur the Crazy, Insane an’ Silly.” Stick stood in pur- feck silence, hiz hed lifted high, hiz chin whiskers stickin’ out az straight az a burd-dog’s tale while wonder an’ amazement played hide an’ seek over hiz face. “Ah,” he sed, finally, “I see why the idiotorial associashun haz its meetin’ here. I see, I see.” The next day the meetin’ wuz on— an’ it wuz a feast fur the gods. The best dish uv all wuz served up by a feller by the name uv Sherry Saltpork, idioter uv the Grank Forks Hurld. He wuz evidently very mad at sumthin’ or sumbody but I don’t think he node who or what an’ I don’t think enny uv the rest uv us wuz enny wizer when he got through. He started out sum- thin’ like this, namely, towit, az fol- lers: “Gentlemen, do you want a bushelov- isky in this country or——" Bedlam broke lose before he could say anuther word. Thar wuz clappin uv hands, stompin’ uv-feet an’ cries uv, “Shore, we do, shore we do; we want ten bushel, yes a hundred bushel- ovisky; we’ve had anuf uv Bevo an’ Peruna, give us a thousand bushelov- isky.” COUNTRY EDITORS APPLAUD “SHERRY'S” ABUSIVE ORATORY Mr. Saltpork blushed modestly at this outpourin’ enthusiasm an’ waited in silence fur the storm to subside. Then he went on: “I know that this idiotorial associa- shun iz not suppozed to meddle in poli- ticks—but then bushelovisky aint poli- ticks, is it?” Thar wuz anuther outbust uv ap- plawze an’ criez uv “that’s right, that’s .right,” but sum feller back in the crowd sed “O piffle.” “Az you all know, gentlemen, I'm a frend uv the farmer—indeed I'm a farmer myself. I've got a big farm up by Grand Forks an’ I git in my auto- mobile an’ go out to see it nearly every week. An’ bein’ a farmer I am natur- ally in favor uv '.farmers' organiza- shuns. Just to prove that, I site the fack that I have started a regular, blowed-in-the-bottle farmers’ organiza- shun myself. We jist helt a big mass meetin’ up at O-me-my the uther day to give it a good send off. We started out with 13 members an’ more’'n half uv ’em air farmers. Yes sir, I beleve in farmers’ organizashuns—but not in this Nonparteshun leeg—that’s differ- - to that. Then things commenced to happen in double quick. ent—rvery different, az you can planely see.” This wuz follered by a general, cut- an’-dried, pre-arranged applawze. S8AYS THE FARMERS OUGHT TO BE LED “I want you to understand, gentle- men,” he continued, waxin’ eloquent, “I want you to understand that my fite iz agin the leeders an’ organizers uv the Leeg. I beleve farmers should organ- ize alrite but I don’t beleve ennybody, . that iz jist ENNYBODDY should help 'em—it depends on who it iz. See? I beleve they should have leeders al- rite—that iz I beleve they should be led—but I don’t beleve ennybody, that iz jist ENNYBODY should leed ’em. Let ’em organize alrite but let ’em do it by all voluntarily cumin’ together at once without enny previops announce- ment or arrangement an’ jist organize thurselves by thurselves. Them’s my idees uv a farmers’ organizashun—one that jist springs up outen the ground without enny waterin’ or cultivatin’.” Thar wuz a big outbust uv applawze but three or four fellers back in the crowd sed “O, piffle, piffle,” “My charge agin the leeders an’ or- ganizers uv the Leeg is that they air all Socialists, I. W. W.s, anarchists, pacifists, Germans, Huns, traitors, sedi- tionists, disloyalists an’ free-lovers, and that they would sell this country to the kaiser fur $16 in a minnit!” A tremendous outbust uv applawze greeted this oratorical flight. “An’ gentlemen,” he continued to conclude, “I see that sum uv the farm- ers in North Dakota air startin’ stores an’ goin’ into bizness. Now I'm oppozed You know az well -az I do that bizness an’ politicks aint fur farmers. " Bizness is fur bizness men an’ politicks iz fur politishuns. Politicks iz rotten an’ should be left to the rotten politi- shun. Them’s my sentiments.” . He sot down amidst a-vociferous an’ prolonged applawze, Then things begin to happen 'in double-quick. Before I could think, Stick, who wuz settin’ on the end uv the seet, slid to hiz feet an’ started up frunt. I tried to ketch him by the coat tail but wuz too late. He walked up to the frunt very deliberately. Everybody looked at -him in astonish- ment. He turned around an’ prepared to speak. The cheerman called him down. “Who air you?” he ast, sarcastickly. “I. Will Stick,” he repu’ed never battin’ an’ eye. “Well, you haint got-no pla.ce on this » brogram so —’ “Yes, I have, by heck, an’ I've got - sumthln’ to sa,y -an’, by ginger m PAGE SIXTEEN} goin’ to say it an’ you fellers iz goin’ to listen, so keep still.” “Set down—return to your seet—I rule you outen order,” stormed the cheerman. Stick turned an’ looked at him about a minnit. “Upon the hill in the big brick house is the place fur you,” he sed, compos- edly, jerkin’ hiz thumb over hiz should- er toward the crazy asylum. “It won't take me long to say what I've got to say,” he started in, “an’ you fellers can have a year to ansure it in.” He straightened up an’ looked quietly’ around. “You, Mr. Saltpork,” he said, shootin’ a right arm out to- wards him like a wagon tongue, “you say that you air a frend uv the farmer. Yes, an’ Judas wuz Jesus’ frend—an’ his price wuz 30 bucks.” Saltpork squirmed like an eel on a hot stove. “Yes, an’ Brutus wuz Ceaser’s frend an’ he slipped a knife under hiz fifth rib. That's what I think uv your frend- ship fur the farmers.” Saltpork looked like a sheepkillin’ dog, which wuzzent much unnatural fur him. STICK GIVES THEM PIECE OF HIS MIND “You say you beleve in farmers or- ganizashuns, Mr. Sowbelly, or what- ever yer name iz, but I ast you- when did you ever start one—when, I re- peet, until after they had already got one? An’ now, the one you claim to have started iz fur the purpose - uv' tearin’ down the one they’ve already got. “Agin, Mr. Slabside, you -say the - -leeders an’ organizers uv the Leeg air disloyal sedishunists. Ef that’s so, pleze tell us why the guver'ment don’t have ’em arested an’ put in jail? I ast you why all the. goverment officials don’t do their dooty. Why don’t you do your dooty an’ git out warrants fur ’em? The reezon iz this”—an’ 'he turned savagely upon Mr. Saltpork— “the reezon is this—you're a dirty liar,; that’s all, that’s all. “Now keep yer shurt on,” he added az Saltpork made a move, “You, Mr. Sideobacon, show me a man, I care not who he iz, that iz disloyal or seditious an’ I'll see that he gits locked up be- fore sunset. I'll see that he’s interned to the end uv the war. I'll do my dooty az an American citizen—an’ I won’t toot my horn about it, neither.” Stick walked down the isle to where I wuz, picked up hiz hat, sayin’ “cum on, Ripp, let’s git out uv-here an’ go on up the hill an’ have a talk with sum sensible peeple.” : Yoors Trooly, RIPP.