Thursday, December 12, 1918
Looking back over a great number of years we have come to the conclusion that the President of the United States is always right. There is reason for this. From the earliest memory date, there has never been a president that was not wholly capable of filling the office, and if we can judge from history, no one has ever occupied that position who was either corrupt or weak. In other words, there has never been a time when the United States has had either a fool or a knave for its president.
It has always been a pleasure to us to support the president, and we cannot remember the time when we found any matter of moment on the part of a president that called for serious criticism. It was never a question even politically of having a bad man for president, it was only a question of whether there might not even be a better man available.
Even in the days of The Bellower, his unquestioned honesty and sincerity made him a great president. It could well be said with fervor: “Who touches a hair on yon bone-head, lies like a dog!”
There never was a more reviled man than President Taft, and there never was a sounder and better man in public life than that same big man. It was a day of pin pricks and petty strife. They had Taft working for nearly a year on the question of whether the American people should have their whiskey straight or blended. We look back on those days with wonder and some awe. Few of us remember how he decided that burning question, but no doubt he decided it right…
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A good friend is inclined to argue that the “Watch on the Rhine,” and “Maryland,” are not alike. He may be right. It has always been hard for us to distinguish tunes. We did not know we were as insensate to a concourse of sweet sounds, until one time we went to a school entertainment here in Marlinton, where one of the features was to play a piece on the piano, and then have each one in the audience attempt to name it by ear. We never engaged in a game in which we made so poor a score. Score after score got by us.
If those two old drunken fools in New York, who hearing the orchestra play “Little Brown Jug,” stood up because they thought it was the “Star Spangled Banner,” should happen to pass this way, we will extend to them the right hand of fellowship…
November 18, 1918
Editor Times: As my last letter did not reach the waste basket, I shall try again.
We all enjoyed Thanksgiving very much. For dinner we had roast chicken with dressing, potatoes, peas, onion, radishes, ice cream, cake, mixed nuts, cigars and cigarettes.
The mail boat arrived and we enjoyed getting our mail more than our dinner.
I like it fine here. It is a semi-tropical region; fishing and swimming are good the entire year. It is never over eighty or under fifty-eight degrees. The natives are also very interesting. We never see an auto or a street car, just carts and small carriages are the only conveyance obtainable.
I have had the pleasure of reading several interesting and patriotic letters that my soldier friends at Camp Meade have written to The Times…
Have received many interesting letters from my friends and they sure were appreciated…
When this war is all over and the peace treaty signed, I am coming back to old Pocahontas, drop my anchor, put my feet under Dad’s table and nothing but another war will ever drive me away.
Will close and climb in my hammock. Won’t some of my friends please send me a hammock ladder?
Hope to see you soon.
Noel E. Phillips.
U. S. S. Fulton
Miss Jennie Sharp, of Warwick, is with her sister, Mrs. Sarah Kellison, who is very ill at this time.
A. G. Dean and Frank Bond, of North Fork, are preparing for winter by getting in a supply of wood.
Mrs. N. S. Alderman is visiting her sister, Mrs. H. S. Burr.
Miss Mae Burr spent Sunday with her cousin, Miss Selma Kellison, of Beaver Creek.
Dewey F. Burr has arrived safely in France.
Isaac P. Dean, of Coch-rans Creek, has received word that his son, Forrest, was severely wounded in France.
Paul and Summers Burr are trapping for fur this winter.
Little daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Willie Dilley, aged three months, of influenza.
Mrs. John G. Beard, at her home at Hillsboro Tuesday evening, December 10, 1918, from paralysis, at an advanced age.
Howard M. Harrison died at his home in Lexington, Virginia, at the age of 77 years. He will be remembered by many Pocahontas people, having made yearly trips to his farm in upper Pocahontas for many years. Mr. Harrison was a Con- federate soldier, serving through the war. He suffered terrible wounds, losing his left arm, nearly all the fingers on his right hand, and other injuries.