Baltimore Evening Sun (1 November 1913): 6.

The estimable Hot Towel upon the Hon. Dashing Harry’s borough plan:

M & M. APPROVES PLAN

Committee Appointed To Co-Oper- ate With Mayor Preston.

The final crack across the skull! All that remains is to telephone for an embalmer.

A DAILY THOUGHT. Every citizen may freely speak, write and publish his sentiments on all subjects, being responsible for the abuse of that liberty.--The Constitution of Connecticut.

The Hon. Dashing Harry’s desperate effort to grab the Christmas celebration away from the abhorrent Sunpaper promises to give us vulgarians quite as much refined enjoyment as the celebration itself. The hon. gent. is never more amusing than when he is forcing the hemlock down the esophagus of the Sunpaper, and this time he has better help than usual. As a rule, he selects the Hot Towel, his faithful body servant, to second him in such enterprises, with incidental aid from his stock company of greasers and low comedians--the Hon. Sunday-school Field, LL. D., the Hon. Aristides Sophocles Goldsborough, the Hon. Isaac L. Straus, the Hon. Bob Lee, and so on. But now he has the estimable Evening Newspaper on his side--and there is vastly more intelligence and resourcefulness in the News office than in the Towel office, or even than in the City Hall. Thus the combat promises to delight all cognoscienti, and the sportsmen of the kaifs begin to lay odds one way or another.

At every wedding the Hon. Mr. Harry is the bride; at every coroner’s inquest he is the corpse. He will never approve the selection of such a man as the Hon. Frank A. Furst as chairman of the Christmas committee. His first choice for all such posts is himself; his second choice is some harmless blank cartridge or who will take orders from him and permit him to gobble all the glory. Hence his fondness for the Honorary Pallbearers and for the faculty of Goucher College. In the present case regret is added to eagerness. The hon. gent. overlooked the possibilities of the Christmas celebration until the rascally Sunpaper called attention to them, and then he jumped upon the bandwagon with such precipitancy that he darn near upset the vehicle. A situation of farce, almost French in its piquancy. Whatever happens to the Christmas tree, the plain people will see a good show.

How prohibition works in the “dry” States, as described by an editorial in the current issue of the Medical Times:

Drug addiction follows in the wake of prohibition. The relationship is definite and thoroughly attested. It is in “dry” districts of the country that the best market is found by the drug sellers of nefarious type. * * * This evil leads to others even worse, since the use of cocaine in the South by the negroes has been very definitely connected with sexual assaults and race riots. It will not do for the prohibitionists to ignore the results that inevitably flow from the enforcement of “dry” laws. It is our own view that the results of drug addiction affect community affairs in a more deplorable manner than do the results of alcoholism, and if it be true that such results are uncontrollable, what position should be taken by intelligent men on this tremendous question? * * * Speaking honestly, we must confess to no definite conviction as regards the relative efficacy of possible remedies. We are only oppressed by a realization of the tragic issues involved.

Perhaps the Hon. William H. Anderson will now argue that the editor of the Medical Times is “an agent of the liquor-vice ring" and an advocate of “corrupt” politics. Do I hear him say so?

Proposed Old-Fashioned Glee Club, to sing “The Lion of Judah” on Christmas Eve:

Tenors–The Hon. Sunday-School Field, LL. D., and the Hon. Issac L. Straus, LL. B. Second Tenors–The Hon. Bob Lee and the Hon. Aristides Sophocles Goldsborough, LL. B. Baritones–The Hon. Paving Bob Padgett and the Hon. Frank Kelly. Basses–The Hon. Sonny Mahon and the Hon. Dashing Harry. Librarian–The Hon. Dan Loden, K. T.

The Rev. Dr. C. D. Harris, in the estimable Baltimore Southern Methodist:

Some of the great missionary leaders of the world, after having thoughtfully surveyed the field, say that Christianity’s next and most formidable task will be the conversion of the Mohammedans.

And, first of all, the Mohammedans who disguise themselves as Christians. Baltimore is full of them, and some of them are actually in holy orders. The distinguishing marks of these concealed Mohammedans are (a) their rejection of the Beatitudes, (b) their denunciation of all critics and rebels as infidels, and (c) their lust for putting all infidels to the sword.

Not a word from Archdeacon Wegg for six weeks! Can it be that he is in retreat, brooding over his sin? If so, let him cheer up! The Hon. William H. Anderson is a worse sinner--and yet the Hon. William H. Anderson is happy.

Why all this play-acting over Mexico? If it is true that the Hon. Woodrow Wilson wants peace down there, why doesn’t he recognize Huerta, and then help him put down the rebellion? Huerta is as good as the next one. Nay, he is better than the next one. Despite all the opposition from Washington, he has managed to hang on to the Government, and in hanging on he has displayed the very qualities which Mexico needs in her ruler. He is intelligent, unsentimental, ruthless. He comes nearer to the stature of Diaz than any other Mexican now in sight. Why not help him to restore order instead of opposing him by underhand and disingenuous methods?

My spies bring me news that the moral graft is getting worse and worse. Gentlemen who formerly gave up willingly and regularly are now full of hems and haws, and even the Sunday-schools are less juicy than they used to be. The life of a moral wiskinski has its ups and downs; there are good seasons and bad seasons. But in the long run, I believe, the game is bound to prosper. The desire to shove somebody into jail springs eternal in the human breast: it is one of the few permanent and ineradicable lusts of civilized man. And so, in the long run, the pickings will always be good for the gladiator who promises such a show. The moral graft, in fact, is probably the best of them all. It is easy, it is legal, it is lucrative, and, taking one year with another, it is sure. If I had a son (an idle supposition) and no accumulated wealth to leave him (an idler one), I should pour molasses on his hands and down his throat, and make a professional moralist of him.