Kentucky Irish American. (Louisville, Ky.) 1898-1968, 1914-05-23

that fact. as he kept II concealed.
It is possible that in soaking the
original sin out of fellow any
latent germs of genius he possesses
may be extracted also. Tommie sol
emnly assures us that Catholics dare
not read a book or paper that has
not been formally approved by the
Pope. What a foolish falsehoodl I'll
wager a pint of peanuts that Watson
can not name half dozen American
books, papers or magazines that
bear the Papal imprimatur, and an
other pint Of the same luscious
circus fruit that even his own rabid
A. p. A. rot has ever been placed in
the index prohibitorius. II II is not
there, every Catholic in this country
is privileged to read II without con-
sulting Rome. OF the most bigoted
sect of pseudo-religious fanatics that
ever cursed this country, the Hon.
Tommie Watson is perhaps the most
intolerant and narrow-brained little
blatherskite. Avaunt! thou con-
tumacious little coyote, thou
pestiferous pole-cat. Benedict Arm
old was a gentleman when compared
to you, for his treason was open and
avowed, while you stabbed the cause
of the people in friendly embrace,
struck II in the back. You have had
no parallel since Judas Iscariot con-
spired with the plutocracy to betray
the idol of the people-and even
Judas had decency enough to hang
himself as expiation of his infamy.
Shut up, thou hatchet-faced, splen-
az IL hao ~ hna
hypocrite, for verify the world is
aweary of Tommie Watson. His
brilliant and patriotic editorials"
are used only to underlay carpets,
paper pantry shelves and for pur-
poses less polite. l cheerfully risk
my reputation as a prophet on the
prediction that in less than two years
his windy little reform" paper will
go to the bone-pile. Tommie, you are
the pin-worm of American politics
more aggravating little parasite
than even Miltonius Park. Take a
gentleman's advice and apply the
soft pedal to your wheeZy calliope-
get off the political stage in time to
avoid the coming cataclysm Of
sphacelated cabbage and has-been
cats. The day of your destiny's over
and the star of your fate is in the
mullagatawny. You are simply a
fragment of worthless political sea-
weed cast with flabby jelly fish and
dead sting rays upon an inhospita BILE
shore, there to rot and befoul the
atmosphere. You have "a very
ancient and fish-like smell, smell
not of the newest" You may howl
a lung out, but will only evoke
laughter or disgust. Occasionally
some lonely Middle-of-the-Road
dragging his No. 1878 painfully
through the dust may turn to look
at you, perhaps toss you dime; but
you are politically dead. You may
play the Baptist racket for all it's
worth; but the brethren, while long
on zeal are shy on Doodle. Even
Jehovah Boanerges Crandill, the
champion leg elongater of the uni
verse, finds it hard work to keep fat
in the Baptist field-must add pro-
fessional beggary to his schemes Of
predacity. You may tie your abor-
tive little paper to the tail OF the
ape" but that animal is too weak
in the hinder legs to pull 1t out of a
financial hole. Go plug yourself.
Shuck your long-tailed hand-me-
down Albert Edward, trade your
paper for a double-shovel plow, grid
up your yarn galluses and make a
reasonable effort to earn an honest
living. Had you expended half the
nervo-muscular energy in the cotton
patch that you have wasted in work
ing your jawbone you would have
money to burn. "Mene meme tekel
upharsin"-which means that you
are entirely too light at both ends.