Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1940-04-19
~
from the
Democrats Pen

ever hear that Story-an ola one
about the old countryman who went
into a barroom to get himself a
drink, some kind of miXed-up po-
ton.
1 suppose it will be fairly we'll un-
derstood what I mean by "bar-
room; some of the oldest citizens
will remember the sometimes
brass-foot rest on the floor. When
you could make a tack up to the bar,
that rod on the floor was a mighty
good mooring for an old float which
had lost his bearings. And, it may
be, that, with a foot on the floor
rest, and an elbow on the bar, the
fluid refreshments sort of gurgled
down ones throat with better cooling
results; or, if hot weather, with
warming effects, depends upon the
season.
But I started to say something a
bout this old country man. Wonder
why this old codger is always chosen
as the butt of some joke. The in
ference is that an inhabitant of the
open fields is as green as the flora
he cultivates.
1t may be: but I've seen some of
these city chaps so darned vernal
when they get off the hot-or--cold
pavements of the big towns, they
couldn't tell sheep from grizzly
bear; a rake from a hair comb; or a
pumpkin from a full moon. The diff
ference is these urban curiosities
think it's sorta cute to be ignorant
of country ways; while the country
man is really embarrassed when he
fails to size up every situation he
meets when he faces city noises and
looks up at towering piles of brick,
steel and stone.
How-some-ever, maybe I'll get to
that old codger and his mixed drink.
I mix my own these days, like some
persons I've heard of, rolling their
own" 1 used to hear about places
where one could go in, buy what one
could conveniently hold, then go out
and get into trouble. Nowadays you
buy a bottle, have it wrapped up in
a bag, tote it home, and consume it
at your leisure, provided there isn't
too much objection arising from the
head of the household, and she wasn't
too skillful in hurting rolling pins,
kettles and pans.
Well, this old codger went into
barroom one hot day to get one of
those cooling drinks. BY the way,
if he had lived in the present day,
hours, and minutes, he'd perhaps have
gone into a coffee shop and ordered
something around the boiling point.
Did you ever see such weather? Why,
I passed by one of our city churches
the other day, and there in an angle
of the brick walls, I saw big pile of
snow-last Monday I saw it.
Now, you'd better be careful what
you say about that. 1t occurred to
me to venture the idea that if there
was any place where the fallen snow
would linger long in the lap Of
Spring, it would be under the shadow
of our temples of worship. In days
gone by, the glowing heat of religious
fervor would have liquefied those crys
tails in quick time. But the air is
not so hot with the electrs (any such
words as that?) of prayer and praise
as used to be. There was a time no
pile of snow could have survived that
near church, but "them days is gone
forever" I say this all occurred to
me to say it, but was afraid to VEN
ture. I thought perhaps you were
about to make the effort and I warn
you..
But, to get back to this old codger
who went into a barroom to get a
drink. I've wandered from the SUBJ
ject somewhat. Seems like couldn't
stick to my subject very closely.
That's very easy failing to drift in
to. Some people leave it right on
the jump of a speech or written ar
ticle. It is told of Mark Twain that
he was asked, on one occasion, to talk
on the subject of milk" The noted
humorist arose when the time came
for his "spiel" and said, Ladies, gen.
tlemen, and others, I came here to-
night to speak upon the subject of
milk" He then went on to talk for
about an hour and quarter, but new
er mentioned milk any more. IF he
can do that, why can't I.
But this old codger went into a
barroom to get mixed drink. While