Pot Room Notes
By W.O. Burns
The most of our old boys have returned from France and are
back in their former places, a few of whom we have mentioned below. If these
don’t use us too rough, we will mention some of the rest later:
There were some men from Badin Town,
Their valor to
enhance,
Who got some guns, gas masks, and things,
And sailed away to
France.
We missed these lads while they were gone,
And prayed for
their return;
And fate was good to most of them—
They came back one
by one.
The first to come with Culveyhouse,
Whose tale of war
was awful;
A private when he went away,
But back he came a
corporal.
High private Brown the next to come;
His tale we failed
to hear it.
When asked if he shot Kaiser Bill,
Said “No, but came
damned near it.”
Cook Hanby, who was next to come,
Made quite a
reputation.
To find a dish that’ll beat his slum
You’d have to
search creation.
Dock Price, the next to come back home;
Won’t talk because
he’s timid;
Agrees that war is hell all right;
But cooties are the
limit.
The next to come was Adam Long;
Who likes the army
fine,
But punching pots in Badin
Beats camping on
the Rhine.
Will Shankle, brave boy that he was,
Did not come with
the rest;
His body lies in France to day,
His spirit’s gone
to rest.
On the night of September 5, while we were wrapped in the
arms of Morpheus, and dreaming of the Badin of 10 years hence, with her street
cars, subways, beautiful parks, grounds, fountains, etc., someone with force of
arms, and with malice aforethought, did enter our private sanctum sanctorum (we
mean our office), and take therefrom our office furniture, consisting of one
wheelbarrow minus the wheel, and should therefore be called a barrow; also one
ore barrel which we used for our desk, and substituted therefor some up to date
1920 office furniture, including some portraits of some of the nation’s most eminent
writers, among them J. Don Laws of Yellow Farm, Sut Livingood, and many others.
But one picture in particular caught our fancy; that of a beautiful cow, whose
name was Bull, and whose home was Durham. I am told that the boys in France
carried one of these pictures on their tobacco pounces, for it represented a
tobacco of which they were especially fond. The only thing we are lacking now
is an office boy, and we have on file at present applications from two
gentlemen, Messrs. G.S. Arthur and John McGregor, both of whom come well
recommended—one by W.K. Vanderbilt, the other by Andrew Carnegie; but we have
not decided yet which we will take. We have been trying very hard to find the
gentlemen who were so thoughtful of our comfort, in order that we may suitably
reward them. We are accusing the following Ex-Congressmen and Senators of the
crime. Of course we have no positive proof of their guilt; only they can’t
prove their whereabouts on that night. The following are the ones that we
suspect: Messrs. Long, Brown, Fisher and Bandy, the proceedings of whose trial
will appear in the next Congressional record.
Capt. Dave Swagerty has been nursing a very sore thumb for a
few days. His electric fan was running so fast that he couldn’t see the blades,
so he stuck his thumb in the thing to see if they were still there. “They were.”
Mr. J.E. Campbell, one of our oldest potmen, left a few days
ago for Maryville, Tenn., where he will spend a short while, and then go to
Oklahoma, where he will spend the winter with his daughter.
Our section banners have arrived, and have caused some
rivalry in the rooms, which we hope will be the means of reducing our copper
percentage.
Mrs. H.F. Lancaster, who has been visiting her sister, Mrs.
R.B. Leinster, returned to her home at Polkton, N.C., on the sixth instant.
Mrs. Orrie Burnett, after spending a few days with her
brother, Mr. V.C. Howard, returned to her home in Pendergrass, Tenn.
Mr. James Williams moved to Palmerville a few days ago,
where he purchased a nice home.
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