The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1937-11-18

formula - parades,
pomp, propaganda. Bands and guns
and flag wavings, murderous
preachments and manufactured pa
!riotism; they all help to fertilize
against the ultimate harvesting.
Befuddle the first-born on dreams
of drunken glory. Teach him the
neighbor over the way is an enemy
who must some day be crushed
without mercy. Make him believe
his country's destiny demands re-
venge for old hurts, reprisals for old
losses, widened boundaries writ in
blood.
And then, in about 20 years, you
have a nation ripened for ruin, a
race of mothers ready to offer theic
sons to the slaughter. It's slow
crop, but a sure one, and highly
gratifying to professional sword-rat-
tiers and power-mad dictators, to
profiteers and financial hijackers.
Let's see, come 1888, it'll be just
about 20 years since the last time
the world cut its own throat.
Two-Faced Politicians.
COMEBODY says the type of poll
~ tician who swaps worthless
promises before election for the
public's confdence-andi it's votes
reminds him of Janus. Janus was
a god with two faces, and the an
clients finally got so they couldn't
trust either one of them. But it took
them a long time to catch on.
Might I be pardoned for thinking
of homelier smile? I'm thinking
of the pack-rat of this western coun-
try. The thrifty pack-rat slips with
stealthy tread into your camp whilst
you slumber and carries off some
thing of value. But he doesn't steal
it-nothing like that. He merely ex-
changes with you, you being asleep
at the time. He leaves a dry twig
behind and totes off side of meat.
He confscates one of your boots,
but, in return, conferS on you a
| couple of dead cactus stalks. His
intentions may be honest, but there
is no record showing where a pack
rat ever got the worst of trade.
I figure he's part Scotch.
And the profits resulting from his
professional dealings certainly may
be ikened to the career of many a
chronic officeholder now fourishing
in our midst.
This Man Dewey.
WHEN the Republicans get out
Wv the hound-dawgs to run down
their 1910 nominee, they might
search in the tall timbers of Man
haitian island.
There's young fellow there, the
name being Dewey, and he being
kin to the great admiral whose
deeds cracked at Manila one May
day morning like the ightnings on
Mount Sinai. He comes of old
Yankee stock. He halls from a de-
batable state, Michigan; lives in a
pivotal state, New York. Still in
his mid-thirties, he smashed the
foulest, securest nests of labor rack
eteers and vice racketeers in Amer
lea.
He married a sweet Texas girl,
as southern as they make 'em. Fer
grand-uncle was jeff Davis. My
daddy was jeff Davis relative, too.
And this young Dewey trained for
grand opera. Speaking of this charm
thing, think of a President who'd
wind up his fireside radio chats sing
ing "Home on the Range"
Yes, sir, the G. o. P. might go
farther and fare worse.
Nordic Supremacy.
p ECENT events bring to mind a
IN little story of some years back
when night-riding patriots in an
Arkansas county felt called on, as a
sacred duty imposed upon all true
Caucasians, to put the Black broth
er in his place; said place, in at
least one instance, being colored
cemetery.
Also, there had been flood of
notices to vacate sent through the
mail to members of the African
race, followed by unpleasant sur
prise parties did the recipients fail
to heed the gentle warning.
So the community was getting
more Nordic by the hour and the
sound of the Anglo-saxophone was
heard oft in the Silly night. That S
the scene and the plot. Now for
the sketch:
Pelagria Perkins meets Hook
worm Hostetter on Main street:
"Hooky," says Pelagria, "effen
you wuz to git letter frum desc
here wife shirts, whit would you
do?"
Mel" says Hookworm. "Boy,
I'd finish readin' it on the train"
| IRWIN s. CORR