By W.H. Langston
The poor fellow loafed on the job until the boss man exasperated and disgusted finally went to him and said, “John, your services are not wanted here any longer.”
John, to spite his employer as well as his family, immediately got mad and quit. Then he hiked off to the nearest bootlegging station and drowned his sorrows in a haze of sparking moonshine. In this semiconscious condition up the street he goes and after roving over the beautiful streets of Goldsboro he finally parks against a large pine pole that ordinarily is used for holding wires as a brace to parts of the new hotel construction.
The wily eyes of that street hound, always alert in taking care of the evil doers, begins to focus on the pine pole and the see-sawing object trying to hold it up. And in all of a sudden he makes a dive and pounces upon his affrightened tenant and it would seem that he intended to tear his habiliments into a thousand giblets, but not so. Quickly he took the poor helpless fellow by the arm and steadying him as he went, he led him to a perfect place of safety.
If you don’t believe Grover Lancaster will put you to bed, just try him.
From page 4 of the Smithfield Herald, May 2, 1925
newspapers.digitalnc.org/lccn/sn93064755/1925-05-02/ed-1/seq-4/#words=MAY+2%2C+1925
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