Baltimore Evening Sun (22 January 1913): 6.


Lay on, Tartuffe, and dumned be him who first cries, Hold! Enough!

The Hon. Richard Gwinn as City Register of Baltimore in account with the Hon. Richard Gwinn as vice-president of the Calvert Bank:

Capital of bank $100,000.00 Surplus 45,000.00 $145,000.00 __________ __________ City balance January 15 $143,363.68 Special trust acct. 679.73 $144,043.39 __________ __________ Overlooked by Mr. G. $956.61

The Concord Club library now has complete files of the Democratic Telegram, the Municipal Journal, the War Cry, the Police Gazette and the United Railways’ Trolley News.


The Vice Crusaders will end only by scattering broadcast an evil which today we can at least locate, and against which we can yet, to a measure, guard the young and the innocent. They do not seem to appreciate the fact that the social evil, which is as old as civilization itself, cannot be cured in a day either by act of the Legislature or by a policeman’s club. We should be more sane and practical.--The Rev. Dr. Charles A. Rubenstein.

The super-Mahon’s pathetic appeal to the county bosses to full of gabble about sinister alliances with the Republicans, but he says no word of his own back-alley bargain with the Hot Towel. Let the band behind the potted palms play “Stop Your Ticklin’, Jack!”

From the incomparable Deutsche Correspondent of the other day:

[The Hon.] Henry L. Mencken has right when he in the Free Lance says that the Superintendent of the Maryland Anti-Saloon League is the greatest politician in the State. Only a genuinely great and with all dogs hunted politician takes from an opponent the accusation, a grafter to be. Anderson will Mayor Preston this accusation not rebut: he says, denounced to be belongs to his trade. But also a very thick hide belongs thereto.

A sound saying. The Hon. Mr. Anderson has a hide so thick that the loudest yelps of the super-Mahon cannot penetrate it, and so tough that it is resistent, not only to aqua fortis, but also to malicious animal magnetism. He needs it.

The Archangel Harry to the county Democrats:

The present Democratic administration in Baltimore city is efficient and creditable to the party.

And profitable to Paving Bob and the Calvert Bank.

And if the City Club craves an interlude of comedy, it might invite the Hon. Richard Gwinn to explain his method of apportioning city bank deposits between the Calvert Bank and the rest of the banks.

Shut up and the world shuts up with you. Weep and you weep alone.

The Hon. Meredith Janvier, coming to the defense of married men in today’s Letter Column, chooses his examples with singular ineptness. For example, George Washington. Is it or is it not a fact that George married a widow? And is it or is it not a fact that this reduced the volitional element in his rash act to what the chemists call a trace? Again, Grover Cleveland. The Hon. Mr. Cleveland was 49 years old when he married and had already reached the exalted office of President of the United States. His progress upward, from country school teacher to President, was made as a bachelor. When he married that progress ceased forthwith: he never became Emperor of Russia or Archbishop of Canterbury. Meanwhile, I make the Hon. Mr. Janvier an offer: if he will hand me the name of one married philosopher of the first rank who was not sorry for it, I shall pay into the hands of his bankers the sum of $10,000.

Inquiry from an anonymous but highly respected reader:

What has become of the National Typhoid League? Has the season closed, or are the Orioles making such a bad showing that you are ashamed to print the figures?

Put the blame, dear friend, upon Assistant Surgeon-General John W. Trask, M. D., editor of the Public Health Reports. Formerly he printed the typhoid figures for all American cities every week, but of late he has cut them out, and so I can’t work out the averages of the clubs. But he still prints the figures for other infectious diseases--for example, tuberculosis. Here is the standing of the clubs in the National Tuberculosis League for the week ended December 28, the last reported:

Baltimore....................430 New York.......................308 St. Louis......................390 Cleveland.......................268 Chicago.......................365 Pittsburgh.......................243 Philadelphia................329 Boston............................209

But this showing, of course, is far from satisfactory: the St. Louis club is too close to the Orioles for comfort. Typhoid, in truth, is the Orioles’ game, and not tuberculosis. The best poker player in Christendom may fall down at penuchle. If the boomers were really as alert as they say they are, they would call upon Dr. Trask in a body and induce him to give us back our old honors.

The super-Mahon! The super-Mahon! What scoundrel would attach a can to such a valiant, lordly man?

Bitter cry of the Concord Clubbers: How can we play penochle standing up?

The Hon. Dan Loden is sending out receipts for water rents on hand-painted stationery. The City Hall grows blabylonish.--Adv.

The suffragette who lately sent me a scurrilous letter his since sent her fiance to me to plead for her, and I have decided to grant her a free pardon. Ten minutes’ talk with the fiancé convinced me that he fully deserved it.

Proposed name for the husband of a suffragette: husbandette.

It is now six months, two weeks and three days since the Sunpaper last printed a portrait of the Hon. Boomer Dickey. O tempora! O mores!

A body would think that Bob would be skeered to leave the city with so much paving being handed out, but as long as Harry is on the job he don’t need to be skeered none.

Virtue and Paving Bob! The Sunday-school and the Calvert Bank!

The Hon. Mr. Wilson’s objections to the inaugural ball have caused a good deal less excitement in the fashionable world than in the fashionable half-world.–Moral Adv.