Baltimore Evening Sun (4 November 1913): 6.

Last warning to the Hon. William H. Anderson: Beware of false friends! The Hon. Blair Lee was not the last, nor the worst!

A DAILY THOUGHT. The old charity satisfied the feelings of the giver by alms; the new charity educates the receiver to do without alms. The old charity was temporary relief; the new charity is continuous education. The old charity had but one way of expression; the new charity has a thousand channels.—Francis G. Peabody.

In yesterday’s Letter Column the editor of the Sunpaper was formally indicted for forgery by Archdeacon Wegg, the Belair Tertullian. I do not undertake to dispute this charge; in point of fact, I do not know whether it was true or not, and discreetly avoid expressing an opinion that might be embarrassing. But what of the archdeacon himself? Is it or is it not a fact that he has practiced forgery on a colossal scale, albeit in the name of virtue—that he is, in fact, the most accomplished and successful forger since Jim the Penman? Does he deny it? If so, I have the proofs, and shall be glad to lay them before the dean and chapter of his Havre de Grace cathedral. Let him be put on trial at once before the Dean of the Arches. Let the common hangman do justice upon him for his high crimes and misdemeanors.

The condition of the city of Atlanta, after a “clean-up” campaign by prohibitionists, vice crusaders and other such mountebanks, as reported by the Atlanta Constitution:

RED CRIME WAVE SWEEPS ATLANTA ALARMING POLICE

Killings, Shootings and Offenses of Every Description Reported During the Last Fourteen Days. —— OVER 600 ARRESTS MADE, BREAKING ALL RECORDS

The Hon. William H. Anderson favors the public with two or three ingenious explanations of his abandonment of the much-advertised special train for Columbus. The eal reason is simple enough: the snared ecclesiastics are disinclined to leave in a body for fear of photographers. Two weeks ago the Hon. Ed. Hirsch engaged to stand in the train shed and snapshot the friars as they boarded the special. These snapshots would have been damning evidence against all the rev. gents. who fell for the Hon. Mr. Anderson’s immoral scheme for shaking down the church boards, and it was the Hon. Mr. Hirsch’s plan to have the whole series printed in a pamphlet, for distribution throughout the State. But that plan is now crabbed by the relentless ingenuity of the Hon. Mr. Anderson. He and his clerical accomplices will slip out of town in small parties, and so avoid the deadly lens. Some of them, I hear, will board their trains in Walbrook, Emory Grove and Union Bridge, and a few will actually go as far as Cumberland on the blind baggage.

That singular talent for making a public spectacle of himself, which is one of the Hon. Dashing Harry’s chief accomplishments, is once more to the fore in his low comedy attack upon the rascally Sunpaper’s plans for a municipal Christmas celebration. The row promises excellent sport to all connoisseurs of the grotesque and arabesque. The hon. gent., you may be sure, will outdo all his past performances in vociferous invective, and if the heavens are not shaken down it will be no fault of his. And meanwhile the immoral Sunpaper will go on collecting funds, and the Furst committee will proceed to its business. Thus the archangels and holy martyrs are flouted and made a mock of by the powers of darkness!

The Hon. Mr Harry’s rage against the Sunpaper, far from easing off with the benignant procession of the equinoxes, seems to be getting more virulent day by day. It approaches the character of a pathological obsession, a fixed delusion of demoniacal possession. Time was when the hon. gent. occasionally discoursed upon other themes, but now the criminality of the Sunpaper is his sole topic. Wheever he gets upon his legs he spouts that pathetic lay; whenever he seizes his pen in hand he covers the paper with it. It has even engulfed and obliterated the old saga of his own magnificence. His faculties, such as they are, are wholly engaged by this lachrymose advertisement of his wrongs; he hasn’t energy left, nor even mere wind, to intone the Henriad, and so the business falls to lowly greasers and rib-ticklers—for example, the Hon. Sunday-school Field, LL. D., president of the Sunday-school Trust.

A lamentable feud, one-sided and idiotic—but, after all, not unamusing. Life would be a bitter thing if all men in the public eyte had sense. There is a public need for entertainment, and hence a public need for mountebanks, prestidigitators and tragic comedians—i. e., for Sulzers, Bryans, Roosevelts, Bonapartes and Dashing Harrys. These fellows ease the profound melancholy of existence, and thus decrease crime, discord and sorrow in the home. The more violently the Hon. Mr. Harry wallops the Sunpaper, the more faithfully he serves his public uses. He himself enjoys it, the public enjoys it, and even the Sunpaper enjoys it. And so, in the phrase of a famous pedagogue, the exhibition don’t do no harm.

The first page of this week’s Democratic Telegram is adorned with a large mezzotint of the Hon. Thomas F. McNulty, Mus. D., showing him in the first part clothes of the of a minstrel. In its literary section the Telegram gives Tom a good greasing, denies that the Muldoons will butcher him on election day, and calls attention again to the singular merits of the Hon. Dashing Harry, that pathetic victim of political assassins. The Telegram has printed far racier issues, but this one, say what you will against it, is still very instructive.—Adv.

Watch Harry try to grab it! Vote for the Hon. Steve Little! Boil your drinking water!

Other fellows will get the votes today, but many of the cheers will be for Col. Jacobus Hook!—Adv.

Last warning to the Hon. William H. Anderson: Beware of gravel in the goose-grease!