Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise., 1938-01-07
''Chirps" ~
from the
Democrats S Pen

Well, Sir, I met a guy on the
street the other day, against whom
I've had a grudge of long standing.
Generally such sore spots as mine heal
after many days, but this one sorta'
refused to do better. 1t became infect
ed by constant brooding, and the pain
increased with the passing of time.
/ never knew of but one man who
ever nourished and fed crouch from
his school-boy days to his adult years.
That was one of Pocomoke's sons and
he swore vengeance on teacher and
swore that when they two reached a
more equal physical growth, there
would be settlement.
So. as time passed, the pupil and
the teacher met on the streets of Po-
comoke. The boy that was, came out
of his coat, stated the proposition to
the pedagogue, and started action.
The teacher concluded discretion was
the better part of valor, and sought
protection in the nearest porch and
through the front door, not forgetting
to shoot the bolt behind him.
That's as far as history records the
dual feud. Whether it was ever re-
newed, can not tell. Both have gone
to their final reward, and not yet has
the veil been lifted to show US what
is transpiring in the "bourne from
which no traveller returns" know not
whether they have both reached the
haven of bliss and, with all ennity
forgotten in the land cf eternal joy,
they have tuned their harps in unison
with the heavenly choir and are chant
ing the psalms of the redeemed. l
hope so, at least.
Orwell, now, 1 hesitate to draw
the other picture. Suffice it to say,
they may be in an atmosphere less be-
attic, and, with pitchfork and shovel,
they may still be looking with evil
eye into each others face, still trying
to settle the fracas started while yet
they roamed the fields of Mother
Earth.
How-some-ever, have dropped into
my habit of DEPRESSING. I started to
say something about my own little
sore spot. AS he came toward me, I
waited for no explanation. He knew
the situation well enough. led with
my left. He ducked and as he did so,
] started an upper-cut which landed
where it did the most good. At the
same time 1 busted one of my knuck-
les, that paralyzed my upper-cutter
clear to the articulation of my arm
with my shoulder blade.
What did I do next? I apologized,
as 1 saw blood in his eye. He paused
to consider my "amende honorable -
but couldn't understand why I should
make this attack and so quickly take
refuge behind a restraction. I told
him I didn't know exactly, unless it
was due to the influence of the ac-
counts I'd been reading about these
pesky Japanese. I'd been interested
in the way they'd been lambasting the
English and American war vessels >out
in the Orient. They'd drop a bomb,
kill few sailors, sink a gun boat, and
then turn around, tell the nations to
clay it on u.s." and make bow attend
ed by an humble apology.
Tn Americans and English would
debate the question for while, con-
slider diplomatic relations resumed
and declare the incident closed. So.
when I pasted my friend on the jaw,
I took lesson from the Jap regime
and apologized. He looked ugly for
a second, but finally decided to declare
the incident closed. I thought it best,
however, to say nothing about my
busted flipper.
But, you know, I don't know wheth-
er or not I'll follow the same course
of action in future similar cases.
Apologies might wear out, lose their
appeal, and fail to "close the incident y
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