By Rambler
The fishing fever has struck the Isaac Waltons around here. “A am going to build me a boat and put it on Roberson creek and go and catch a mess of fish any time I want one,” said a lover of the sport the other day.
From the number of fish this writer has seen come out of that creek, the gentleman will not get paid for the lumber it takes to build a boat. “It looks like we are never going to have any warm weather,” said a citizen. “Here it is the 9th of April and it’s too cold to plant cotton, corn or a garden.” If my friend will be patient and wait a while longer he’ll get all the hot weather that is coming to him.
“I am proud to know that we are to have the old board of town commissioners again,” remarked one of our progressive citizens. “They have done more for our little town than any board has ever done. A prominent landowner here refused one time to sell some of his land that had water power on it. When told that an electric plant was to be built on the property, he was opposed to any such foolishness; that he made his own lights and was satisfied as things were. Since the landowner moved away,” continued the talker, “this board of ours got busy and now the landowner sees the mistake he made when he learned what Pittsboro is doing.”
A very small child of one of Pittsboro’s citizens talks and uses language almost like grown folks. The other day the child was told that when all children died they went to heaven. “Well,” said the little tot, “I know if I die I’ll go to heaven, but if I go to heaven I can’t go to grandma’s.”
From the front page of The Chatham Record, Pittsboro, N.C., April 12, 1923
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