Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1942-02-27
~
from the
Democrats Pen
from the


these days, when he lays out his hard
earned dollars for pair of 1943 au-
to tags. The Maryland motor license
piece of metal has shrunk, and it's
shr,nk bad, I'm here to tell you.
Wonder to me they make you fast
en- it to your old tag. Seems to me 1t
would be better if the car owner could
carry it around in his pocket book.
IF a road cop wanted to see it, he'd
have much better chance that way.
He could make you show it, just as he
does your registration card; but he'd
have to look mighty quick to see that
little zone by three" piece of tin, II
he tried to get your number while
you were rolling along at 5O-or
more. 1t would take more than one
road cop to do it,
Reminds me of that yarn a West
erner told about the trains out IN his
section. He said it took two men to
zee 'em-one to see 'em comm; the
other, to see 'em goin'. That's the way
/ think it would happen if you were
in a little bit of hurry and didn't
notice your cyclometer creep up on
vou-You've done that sometimes,
haven't you?
How-some-ever there's just one 9TH
er thing I've noticed: These tags may
have shrunk, but they draw on your
bank balance, just the same. They
are little but they're loud. The price
per set hasn't shrunk the slightest
bit; they tackle you for 30 cents on
the horse power. Seems to me, it
should be on colt power when you
look on the 1913 little ornament. Why,
a man could wear one of those things
on his watch chain, and save the
trouble of boiling to the old 1912
marker.
Well, what are we going to do a
bout it? When I find out, I'll tell
you. We're in the hands of the tax
masters, and they are big hands;
they've got grip on what you got,
and there are lots of people who are
not going to see the time come when
they can feel the burden of taxation
roll off.
Take this matter Of one of these
money separator devices you call an
automobile. A man decides he wants
car; he goes to a dealer; they de-
eide on a price; the sale is made; you
plank down the money in some form
or other; you go out to get in your
car to go home.
"Hold on" says the dealer.
whats up, now?" you say.
"Why, you've got to pay me for
this sale-just for making the sale
that's the sales tax"
/ plank down some more filthy lu-
ere. 1, once more start away.
Hold on" says the dealer.
81 held on once," I say, what ais
your"
'Whose car is that you are going
away with ?"
Mine, you fool, hav'n't I paid you
for it,"
eyes, but suppose a road cop should
be looking for stolen car, and your
bus resembled the missing tub, how
would you prove it was yours?"
He'd take my word for it, or Id
bust him in the snoot."
"You might, if he looked small e
nough; they seldom do, tho
"What would he do?"
He'd ask to see your title"
Then I go back and shell out some
more money for a title.
put some gasoline in my car to
get away from all this mess, and I
pay tax on the precious fluid. take
the car home until the State says /
can drive it on the roads at tax of
30 cents on the horse power. In my
possession, I pay the state, county,
and corporation tax as permission
for owning it. And now Uncle Sam
comes along with a $500 stamp to
stick on the windshield and if it's not
there he'll stick fine on for about
Is bucks. Furthermore, he promises
to do little better by you, next June,
and you can have the pleasure of
forking over five dollar William,
fer the above inch and half square
piece of printed gum paper.
And so it goes. Your car certainly
earns its right to live move and have
its being. And if sometimes it emu
lates the phraseology of the late Mr..
Coolidge, and silently says: II do
not care to rum" you feel like Gus
sim it and asking it what it thinks of
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