Baltimore Evening Sun (14 November 1911): 6.

Only 1,281 days more! And then—good riddance–deliverance–the grand escape!

The Hon. Charles H. Carter to a quaking reporter:

I am not going to make any further comment on the case.

A prudent decision. But the public, alas, is still blabbing away!

From a dutiful little boost in the Baltimore Democratic Telegram:

It looks very much as though at the end of his term he [the Hon. the super-Mahon] will be placed on record as a splendid administration and a good timber for the Governorship.

Can it be that a certain distinguished School Commissioner is now contributing to the Democratic Telegram?

And now for the distribution of jobs! It has been a long, long wait! But Santa Claus is trimming the Christmas tree at last!

Tips for the Maryland Anti-Vivisection Society:

At the Johns Hopkins Medical School, yesterday morning, an assistant janitor (whose sworn confession I have) stepped on a bulldog’s tail. No anesthetics were used! At the same time and place the bulldog excised a cutlet from the janitor. Again no anesthetics were used!! At Bayview Asylum, last Saturday morning, 22 paupers, armed with mallets, were put to the grim work of killing roaches. In the course of two hours 10,000 of the poor creatures were done to death and 5,000 were wounded. Yet again no anesthetics were used!!!

Down go taxes! Up go water rents! Laugh, suckers, laugh!

From an editorial in the Democratic Telegram:

Senator Gorman made the best campaign that could be made, but unfortunately for him the party faced a number of drawbacks.

Among them, perhaps, the Hon. Arthur Pue Gorman, Jr.

The price of mechano-therapy, that new and revolutionary science, is still going down. On October 18 I told how the American College of Mechano-Therapy, in Chicago, the headquarters of instruction in the therapeutic mysteries, had offered to teach me all of them for $100 cash, and then for $60 cash, and then for $47 cash, with various seductive installment alternatives. Now it makes a further reduction to $25 cash, or $5 a month for six months. Let us rehearse these offers in detail:

July 17–$100 cash, or $37 cash and $29 a month for three months, or $24 cash and $14.50 a mouth for six months. September 9–$50 cash, or $18.50 cash and $11.50 a mouth for three months, or $12 cash and $7.25 a month for six months. October 9–$47 cash, or $4 cash and $6 a mouth for eight months. November 9–$25 cash, or.$5 cash and $5 a month for five months.

If your sub-conscious is pushing you toward mechano-therapy—if you feel the growth of enthusiasm for ths new science within you–my advice is that you send your $5 to Prof. S. J. Tinthoff, treasurer of the college, at once. After January 1, 1913, as a a little red slip sent out with every letter gives warning, the cost of the course will jump to $280 cash in advance, and you will have to go to Chicago to study in the college itself. But today, and for a few days more, you may get your lessons by mail—and for $25 cash.

The aim of the college faculty, of course, is not to make money, but to make all Americans acquainted with the blessings of mechano-therapy, which, according to the learned Prof. J. H. Conway, M. T., will some day be “the only means to cure diseases.” Professor Conway, let it be understood, is no romantic youth. On the contrary, he is an ancient of 76 years–the oldest pupil the American College of Mechano-Therapy has ever had. Polonius had not a longer beard than Professor Conway, if the portrait sent out by the college is to be believed. Such a beard carries conviction. The professor is plainly a wise old owl.

The aim of the college faculty, as I have said, is not to amass money, but to spread the mechano-therapeutic gospel. To that end it has spent, during the last two years. the large sum of $128,000. Obviously, the outgo has been much greater than the income, for it would take 5,120 students, at $25 a head, to bring in $128,000–and if 5,120 students were already at work in the United States, demonstrating the value of the new science, there would be no further need to boost it.

But all the same, it has already made progress enough to excite the jealousy of the so-called regular doctors or allopaths—the unspeakable villains who dose us with castor oil and quinine and cut out our appendices. All of the allopaths of the United States, including Dr. William H. Welch, Dr. Simon Flexnor, Dr. John M. T. Finney and other such foes of medical freedom, are banded together in a secret society called the American Medical Association, the one object of which is to make foul attacks upon anti-vivisectionists, Emmanuel Movers, anti-vaccinationists, Christian Scientists, osteopaths, chiropractors, mechano-therapists and other such benign New Thoughters. Already this nefarious American Medical Association has issued a scurrilous pamphlet against mechano-therapy, in which the new science is denounced as “drugless quackery,” and Dr. S. J. Tinthoff, the treasurer of the Chicago college, is accused of being an ex-seller of bust developers. Thus slander pursues the truth!

All of which recalls the fact, by the way, that the days of allopathy, in Maryland, now seem to be numbered, for the League for Medical Freedom has lately opened an office in Baltimore, and when the League for Medical Freedom finishes walloping the allopaths the Johns Hopkins Medical School will be a heap of ruins. As yet, it appears, the leaguers merely look over the ground, plant their batteries, bring up their ammunition. But the first shot in the great battle will be fired soon. When the cannonading begins in earnest it will be a great pleasure, ever and anon, to aid the muse of medical freedom with a bit of discreet publicity.

Every lover of the true, the good and the beautiful must deplore the present inactivity of Baltimore’s volunteer play censors. Last year and the year before they were constantly on the job, denouncing and advertising all plays of a saline flavor, but this year they display a truly depressing indifference. What ails them? Does militant morality grow stale and tedious? Have they lost their old fine frenzy, their ancient craze for chemical purity? Certainly their withdrawal from the bullring of publicity has taken something from the smack of life in this old town. Certainly their innocuous desuetude has put a hardship upon those theatregoers who enjoy a certain alkalinity in entertainment, and are yet too indolent to smell it out themselves.