Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1939-03-31
@
from the
Democrats Pen

Well, Sir, the following was sent to
me this week:
Walk more miles, make more calls,
Take more chances, and more falls,
Times more hard, try more ways,
The more you do, the more it pays.
Find more spots, use more bait,
Start more early, stay more late,
Try more schemes, use more tact,
The more you do, the more men act.
Talk more hope, use more skill,
Seek more prospects, then more still;
Smile more smiles, spread more cheer,
The more you do, the more you hear.
Think more thoughts, more intense,
Give more reasons, with more sense,
Work more hours, work more well;
The more you do, the more you sell.
Now, I don't know just how to take
that. It contains a world of advice,
and if I need all of it, I'd better step
down and out. For instance: "Give
more reasons, with more sense" What
do YOU know about that? Here I've
been trying to use all the sense I've
got, and somebody comes in and tells
me to brush up on my mental activi-
ties.
Then Pm cautioned to "use more
tact" Guess that's all right. I know
darn well, I've got myself Gin Dutch"
with more than one who always say
they never read this column. Funny
about that. Some of my good friends
(?) tell me about the horrid things
that appear here. I ask them how
they know about them. Of course
they've read 'em. Had to say that,
when they get caught. Better give it
the go-by, next time, I advise. But,
you know, some people like to read
horrible stuff. You can take some OF
these best sellers, and, really, they
ought to be called "best smellers."
They're vile; they're rotten; they smell
to high Heaven. Why, I just finish
ed-there you are; I said people would
read 'em, and I'm just people, like the
rest of you folk.
But it's astonishing how the mod
ern taste selects its literature. Why,
way back there in the 14th century,
there was a writer by the name OF
Boccaccio. He wrote book called,
1.-THE Decameron." Well, Sir, that's
a mere spelling book lowell, I won't
mention what I have in mind. The
old Italian writer would blush to read
some of these goth century effusions.
/ read one of these highly-flavored
editions not long ago; and, in the
course of conversation, mentioned it
to a friend of mine, at the same time
giving a little insight into its char
acter. Then came the inquiry as to
its moral ingredient. I was asked
whether its sensual matter was merely
suggestive, or was it "dished out. u
had to say it was scooped into
big dish with great big ladle. Fun
ny kind of world to demand such, but
it does.
Going back to the poem: l am re-
minded that "The more you do, the
more you SELL" Wish that were true.
I'd work "a hours a day and then
some, and I'd work more we'll" But,
anybody knows the more you work,
and the more you sell, the taxes will
get you just like, you know. And
then, again, "I'm to smile more smiles,
and spread more cheer" How, in the
name of Sam Hill is that to be done,
with the presidential chair occupied as
it is. He knocks all JOY out of living,
and I'm blest if you don't feel more
like cussin' than grinning. Maybe the
clouds will show their silver lining
some Of these days.
Finally, 1 am absolutely astounded
by the depth of logic contained in the
assertion, "The more you do, the more
men act" That settles it, and I'm
going to edo" some these people who
owe me money, and see just how they
"act." Maybe I'll find out to my sor-
row. But it's little neat poem, all
the same, and respectfully submit
the cheer it contains. It was signed,
"A Man."