The Birmingham age-herald., 1909-05-09
HOSPITALITY OF THE SOUTH 4 MYTH So Declares the Professor Oi
 the Occult SNARE AND A DELUSI0N FitfuI Tale of the Dsgusted Tourists With Untrimmed Van Dykes and Dutiful Thirst, Prof. Adol-
 phus Botts.
From the Baltimore Sun.

muttered, whisky.
 He poured out enough of the firewater to make two bites, put his foot on the brass rail and wriggled into a comforts, be posture, while with an unmanicured hand he retrospectively stroked his bris- ties.
 He looked the personifcation of dis gust as he stood, and even the gulp or whisky that he took failed to bring the cheer to his countenance He drank his drink as if he were performing rite
 Next to the mournful one were two men talking about nothing. They d taken up every item in the days news and com- mented upon it so long and talkatively that the bartender was suggestively swab- ping at the bar in the close vicinity of
 Finally one of them mentioned Far man. and the frayed one with the droop- ing mien looked up suddenly with the light of battle in his watery eyes.
 Scuse me, sirs, was it Farnan, the chief of police, that you was talking of?' he said by way of prelude, and seeing a gleam of communicativeness about the others, he went on
 If l had my way I'd have him locked up somewhere down on the Dry Tortguas fer disturbing the happiness and peace of mind of the unlearnt. The idear of him, a high guy what's supposed to know some thing about human nature, runnin' all these spiritualist mediums out of his blamed old townl
 What rights he got to do such thing as that? Whats she got against the per fession, anyway?
 "Whatre you so bitter about anyway?' broke in one of the listeners.
 "Yah what's eatin' you? You ain't one i of them fakes, are you?" came from the other
 i The frazzled man drew himself up j proudly, sweled out his chest and as l sumed a Napoleonic attitude. With his nostrils trembling in scorn he, he replied: i sir, I am Prof Adolph Botts, medium, l clairvoyant palmist and scholar of the i occult, and ain't revealin' no secrets of my profession"
 He was silent, offended, freezlngly dig niied.
 That's all right, old man, let's have drink?" humbly capitulated the second speaker, and the mediums manner at the suggestion of drink instantly softened.
 Well, l don't care if I do. Mines a lit- tie of the paint" was his reply, and peace was restored.
 You was saying you are a medium," said one of the men by way of prompt ing.
 'Yes, sir, am, and Farnan or no Far nan, I am proud of it, for you see, gents, l think my profession is one of the most uplifting in the world" replied Professor Bolts.
 "The clergy do a great deal, 1t Is true. In the uplifting of humanity. but what are their efforts compared to our great field? Answer me that, gentsi Gimme the answer
 What can they do that we can't do? But think O what we can do in cases where they ain't even got smell! Con sider that
 "Give us another drink, Ben," came as Q pleasant interruption, and after it was safely poured down the three gullets the professor glanced at himself in the mir TOT behind the bar and, drawing himself up to his full height of five feet four, burst forth
 An that dub around there at head quarters, that harp with the Galaway face; he comes out an says the perfes- sion Is all fakers. Whats he know about the great good we accomplish? Why don't he go after them high brows up here at this swell university? Heh? Don't know, do you?
 Well, I'll tell you. They call them selves scientists and that's got him buff | faloed
 We ain't no scientists, we ain't. oh mol We're just fakes what aint got no right to make a livin DO I look like a fake? I know me clothes ain't fit to walk up and down Mount Vernon Place with, an l know I aint had a bath or shave for two weeks, an I know I just blew in on a freight, but does that make me a fake?" More whisky was produced and the me diums voice began to get clearer. He went on with a grand wave of his hand "a wave that included the wide world. T been in every berg of any importance in this country he said 'an 1 been all over the Sunny South and the cold-biood- l ed north. An you can take 1t from me, | gents, even if youse do belong south of l the Mason and Dixon line, that there | aint no sunniness in the south. Them l people down south don't care nothin' 1 about poor feller Mo- sir, they don't. Here I am in Atlanta doing good. I got a good bunch O clients, and along l come the bulls and run me out of town. ] I beats it northward and I hits Columbia, l S. c.
 l T sets up a palmistry joint, and in l two hours after l hangs out me sign they l got me locked up. The judge let me off | on condition that l jump the town, but when I gets back to me studio I found | the cops had frisked me oriental mystery l booth curtains.
 From there I began doin' the tank l towns, ridin on freights mostly, cause there wasn't much in my line of business. 1 hits some little town down in Virginia T never bothered to find out the name of it--and I thought I'd make a Twin out | of the niggers. So 1 takes coon preach CT in partners with me, and pretty soon we go to tellin' all the mokes' fortune for two bits apiece.
 Think that can last long? No, indeed. First thing me and the bogey reverend knew a big guy what they called the town sergeant come up to me an grabbed me by the neck
 q had to give him 50 cents to get him to leggo. and then he told me I'd have to beat it or stand me chances O gettin lynched. packed me grip and started.
 When that yap made me hit the grii he didn't know IT been doing the bloom ing old hamlet untold service. You see. gents, them niggers was a bad lot and they wanted their fortunes told 1T such way that they'd be pleased.
 "The preacher, being hep to the game told me to predict for 'em that they some day be mayor of the village or that they'd be power in the community ano he even suggested that tell them bogeys that wanted to be told they'd some day marry a white woman.
 when he told me that, gents, l got sore and I batted him one in the conch | Honest, that moke's nose was spread all over his face like big tomato dripping with juice when I landed that short-arm