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the JEFFERSONIAN A Weekly Paper Edited by \ WATSON and J. D. WATSON. Vol. 111. No. 33. The Hearst Pribate Theatrical Performance ‘•Come in and be a delegate,” the eager Hearstite cried; “But I’m not on the pay-roll, Sir,” I timidly replied. “We’ll PUT you there,” the Hearstite said; “the boss is happy to be bled.” So, tugging at my collar, he dragged me clear inside. “Now, let me see, you’ll have to be a delegate from Maine.” “But I am from Nevada, Sir,” I hastened to explain. “Oh, never mind about the State; our William Randolph pays the freight! Check your conscience in the cloak-room, and hurry out again. ’ ’ t f “Why all these empty seats and aisles'?” I queried anxiously. “Oh, they’ll not show in the pic ture!” said the Hearstite cheer ily; “We’ll make a few small passes now, report it as a big pow-wow, The public’ll never know the dif ference, you see.” i ♦ “And who are these brave gentle men my vision has just sighted? ‘The editorial staff,’ you say? I’m sure I am delighted! A glorious, united band! And might I grasp them by the hand ? ’ ’ “Nay, be not free with them,” he warned. “Hearst has ’em copyrighted! ’ ’ Soon a very dusky delegate, from ‘ ‘ Afric’s coral strand, ’ ’ Harangued us on equality, high on the speaker’s stand; I thought they’d surely chase him hence; but no, they cheered his “eloquence,” And hailed him as a brother and a leader in command! I “Now, what about the platform, Sirs?” I asked the Hearstite folk. They doubled up, and roared with mirth, and gave their knees a stroke: “Why, Hearst has got it all arranged—this innocent would have it changed!” They cried, “Well now, that’s what we call a rare and racy joke!” Atlanta, Ga., Tl % August 13, 1908. I asked about the candidates —and got a meaning wink. They siaid: “Our little William R. has put them on the blink; We’re here today to nominate a nice, dictated candidate. If you’ve a different idea —just take another think!” JEFFERSON - M ABLER THAN gfifr LINCOLN • If f/ ////// 1 /copyMw / r. m av\ "P<AA)C ft V The o n£ “Then why are we convening here?” I asked them, in disgust. “Why, that is very simple—’t is ’cause Wil lie says we must; We’re paid to raise a little Cain, to start a copyright campaign, We need it in the business of the Hearst Newspaper Trust! ’ ’ * * * * Oh, come and be a delegate and bring your wife along; And fetch your cousins and your aunts to swell the grand sweet song! And take the kids away from play, they’ll help to fill up space, And yank the baby from its crib, and let it have a place. Go hire some thugs at so much per to do the bouncer act, In case our independent (?) prin- ciples should be attacked; We are a patriotic crew, in purity immersed, All clinging to the pay-roll of Har riman and Hearst! » * * That ‘ ‘ Independence Conven tion” was about the sickliest, sor riest effort to perpetrate a decep tion upon the public that has ever been pulled off by that monumen tal advertiser of an insignificant personality William Randolph Hearst. /• The word was passed out to the pay-rollers to attend that meeting, and bring their families so as to make “a large and enthusiastic gathering.” The result was about as cheerful and spontaneous as the meeting of the creditors of a bankrupt—and the motive much the same; each was there because his own interests demanded his presence at the irksome ordeal. They scented a pork-barrel from afar and came to get a lick at the bacon. Those coming any dis tance were in the minority, how ever. Men employed in the Hearst newspaper plant at Chicago were there as delegates representing States like Missouri and Ken tucky! Men known to be in the employ of Hearst in New York State were there with badges. And in the face of these facts, John Temple Graves, in an article pub- lished in the New York Journal on August 1, naively remarks: “Os the delegates pres ent from all sections, from every state, from all races, Caucasian, AFRICAN and Indian —among all these, there was not present a man directly or indirectly connected with the Hearst newspapers! ’ ’ Who could have deceived John Temple thus? Probably considering he had better confess (Continued on Page Twelve.) Price Five Cents.