Virginian-pilot. (Norfolk, Va.) 1898-1911, 1900-12-13
COMO.
Our Correspondent Writes tbou,
Trusts and Devi|try.
God Made tho Country and tNIan Nindo tho
Town Tho ITubit of Dropping Into
Poetry On tho Scent For Gold Bricks.
Como, N. c.. Dec. 10, 1906

Como. N. c., Dec. IL, 1900.
See the front of battle lower:
See advance proud Hanna'S power
Trusts and Dcviltry."
The gorgeous panorama of golden
prosperity, flashing, dazzling. bewilder
ing, has passed like Il dream. Aladdins
lamp was rubbed and Pactolus flowed
with deeper. richer Etruscan hue
ships noated on every sea freighted
like Argosies of old with chests of gilt
tering jewels; dinner pals. Overlooking
With milk and honey, swung before
every eye; sea coal fires glowed with
deeper crimson on every hearthstone;
turkeys turned up their toes on every
table.
The glittering pageant passed. when,
10, some thief has stolen The lamp and
all has vanished. The miner has gone
back. like a ghoul INTO the bowels OF
the earth ana wrapped his weary limbs
III the dark curtain OF sad distruSt.
sad uncertainty, tie lumberman again
swings high his glittering axe and
signs, knowing that his brethren in toll
VIII pay more dearly tor the planks
that shall shelter them from the oriv-
ing rain and the drifting snow; Gurth
calls with Il luStier cheer 10 his wan
dering swine, While Wanda INDUCES
in Il loud guffaw at his comrades stu
pidity; the bod sailor strains to cast
the anchor, uniurl the canvass to the
breeze to bear away the protected
goods of our good trusts" to be SOLD
at profit in distant lands; the peanut
grabber sits and signs that his CUB
ers" have no protection against mice
and rates. not even Il bun Is in sight
10 give them lift one never reads n
journal without seeing the formation
of another trust. Wien and where is
This to- end is n question harder Of SoIu-
ton than that OF race or color. God
save us from benevolent aSsmula-
ton" and from all good trusts" denver
us.
All! well. the palatial lords OF Trust
dom may low wrap themselves in
silken robes, loll al ease with the In
scrption written above Their doors
Let nothing evil or mean enter here.
but the query will arise, how in the
deVil's name did the masters of the
house get in?
COUNTRY AND TOWN.
1t has been said that God made the
country and man made the town.
hunbly submit that man knew what he
was doing. In this hustling age living
in isolation is simply terrible. Poets
may bahbe of brawling brooks, messy
lawns and dew bespangled gardens, but
a spiashinS fountains music is equally
sweet, and sitting on wet grass or
plucking roses from dripping boughs is
sure to give you Il cold in the head or
make you utter n "cuss" word when
you feel the prick OF the thorn. For
one | had rather hear one. human
nightingale than whole chorus of
woodland songSters: to loter for a
while in one vast library than stroN q
In in IL rrr
expecting rotten limb to fall upon
my "think-works;" to sit in a velvet
cushion and see magic of a play than
on the fallen messy body of a PROSTATE
giant, fun of ticks and red bugs: to
drive squirt along well paved
street than go humping in holes ana
ruts. even though across your path
way fits the graceful squirrel or struts
the red-nosed gobbler. 1 would not be
a boboink even though l had nice
fields for feeding grounds. I would
prefer to be canary in q gilded cage
and fed from beauty's fingers.
Old Sam Johnson. stole and cynic
though he was, displayed good sense by
living i'll London town in Grub street
The sweetest rural songs were written
by poets In bed slipping strong coffee
long after the lark had sung his matin
hymn. The poets eye oft i'm fine
frenzy rolling bodies forth idiotical
nonsense. and gives to airy nothing a
glass and glamour seen only through
the spectacles of dreams.
Away with your merit and fame.
And be among men OF the times:
I wouldn't give n penny for a name
Unless it be crowned with the dimes"
Nor would give a snap for coun-
try life. unless in close touch with a
city. One might as well prefer the
lullaby of cascade TO the deep mono
tone of ocean, or the swish Of paddle
wheel to the roar OF Niagara
Oh! give me one gay night
At the theatre or a ball,
Meath q flash of electric light.
| prefer 1t to n jay birds squall
oh! darn flea and n tick,
And all such biting tribe,
OF both I'm heartily sick
on a trolley ia rather ride.
Oh. for a glass of Tokay,
Or nicely iced champagne,
For Adams Ale | get each. day,
And il doesn't soothe my pain.
Oh. for steak at Jim Jones.
Nicely fecked with mustard,