Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1941-02-21
~
from the
Democrats Pen

aolumn-wait minute, that doesn't
sound exactly harmonious; there
aren't any dogs in this column and
never will be, hope. Better say
anything in this column about dogs.
How-some-ever, if anything should
happen to find it's way in here, l
want all you people to lay it on one
Of my good friends down in "Ye
eide Accawmacke." He came burst
hg into my office, one day last week,
In his usual CHEEKY manner, and ac-
soited me thusly:
"Good morning, Mr.. Chirps; how
ere you and the dogs coming along,
Asse days?"
Now, I want to ask you if that
wasn't a deliberate tossing into a
Qnist pool, disturbing pebble, caus-
bag rings which diverged until they
1sached the outermost shores ?
Wasn't that a stirring up of the dry
Aenes? Wasn't that a reminding
- the flames, of which there was
not left even a dying ember? Wasn't
lat just like tossing red blanket
into the eyes of mad bull? Wasn't
that just too bad for man who had
made the resolution never, never a.
gain to mention anything about the
canine quadrupeds in this column?
IN tell the world it was.
So, want all you people to know
hat it isn't my fault if something
shout "man's best friend" makes its
way stealthily into this very promi-
Aant part of the space included in
ne weeks issue of the Pocomoke
bowler.
But-you know that all the dogs
IN this town and their guests, had
marked where I live as one of the
show places of the village. They
lad learned it, just like tourists study
Ne best routes hither and yon. They
came through in pairs, three at a
time, or in droves. They used my
1lrd rs a passage way in their for
aging expeditions. They came at
morning, noon, and night-specially
sk the last named hours. They SEEM
Cd to think, paraphrasing the poet,
that "flowers never grow so sweet
an in my back Yard, and they never
tired sampling the aroma of the beds.
hey had worn paths across the
sward-crossed lines, parallel lines;
lad worn squares of grass when they
basked in the sunlight and in the
moonlight. They saved their sweet
est songs for their excursions across
my lot. They barked, they howled,
they bayed. They ran the gamut in
every quality of voice, in all range,
IN all pitch; in trills, in staccato, in
high "seas", and in calm tremolos.
They did everything they could to en-
terrain us, and we did everything to
entertain them-with brickbats, boot
jacks, tin cans, worn-out shoes, and
blank cartrides from my 1927. We
lad 81" of time together, and
that's no lie.
But, the blessed pups were getting
the best of us. They did not pro-
pose to relinquish one of their favor
he picnic grounds, and the more we
sassed, the more they bayed at the
Moon. Finally. in this desperate sit
uation, we held a council of war and
we decided to buy, if possible, lit
lie piece of land which would allow
us to straighten the line running in
the rear of our shack. Our friends,
the owners, were willing. We annex
cd the additional territory and we
built a 5-foot fence across the whole
lsngth of our back yard, and sat
down to await results.
Well, Sir, you should have seen
the expression on those dogs faces
/ mean it, the expression" Some
would proceed confidently to their US
Ial pass between the adjoining prop
critics and when they came to that
fence, they'd look it over, and mag
Inc they said to themselves:
"What, in the name of Cerebus and
his kennels is this obstruction doing
here, interfering with our establish
cd highways and traffic. This is dis
reputable and opposed to al 1.-The rules
Of canine democracy. It is prepos-
tsrous and a proceeding that should
not have proceeded without consult
ing our dog congress, and something
should be done about it."
About that time, if happened to
be around, I'd help their musings by
opening up with my blank cartridges.
You should have seen them try to
get around the end of that fence,
But there were no ends. They lost
no time leaving; and, believe it or not
some of them haven't been back.