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Jeffersonian
Vol. 13, No. 10
Insulting the Governor of Georgia at a Coca-Cola Banquet in Atlanta.
IZANSAS is known as The Sunflower
State; North Carolina, as the Pine-tree
State; Florida, as The Land of Flowers;
Kentucky as The Dftrk and Bloody ground;
[Virginia, as The Old Dominion; while Texas
glories in The Lone Star; but a happier fate,
a later day, and an uplift tendency reserved
to Georgia a more significant and a more
exhilirating sobriquet—She is known as the
Coca-Cola State.
The amiable and beloved Asa Candler
[furnished the name; Billy S. Witham was
sponsor in chief, and St. Elmo Massengale—
[whose saintliness is bottled up in his given
name —was the joy-herald who went forth to
bugle to mankind the refreshing, invigorat
ing and recuperative qualities of the latest
of Beelzebub’s hog washes.
And it came to pass that Coca-Cola was
crowned king of the Democratic party, at
the Macon convention, in the year of our
Lord 1914—a Convention in which lawless
ness rode triumphantly over all the rilles, all
the precedents, and most of the. -laws —so
much so, indeed, that the Bosses of said Con
vention have since been roaring most ve
hemently and virtuously for Law and Order.
And it came to pass that a Governor sec
retly acted a lawyer for a guilty Jew, and
thereby caused the Children of Israel to
cough up ducats in a manner never known,
since they bought freedom for the Alsatian
spy, Dreyfus.
And it came to pass, that when the Gov
ernor had sold himself to the Jews, and the
wrath of the people had driven him in great
haste into a far country, the said people took
charge of his guilty client—condemned legally
by all the courts —and executed upon him the
sentence of the Law —the law of Georgia, and
the law of God.
And it came to pass, that after many
moons the traitorous ex-governor crept back
into the State which he had betrayed; and
he began forthwith to plan a campaign known
in the vulgar parlance of the day as “Come
back”
'For the man now had a lavish of money,
and his brother-in-law had also been greatly
blessed in terrest ial possessions, so much so
that they could easily afford to buy several
animals, of the genus jackass, to bray for the
There was one of these musical quadrupeds
in Augusta, and the raucous discordance of
his oft-resounding bray greatly disturbed the
smooth flow of the Savannah Bi ver, and
shook up the road-bed of the old reliable
Georgia Ba il road.
Our ears had no sooner become accustomed
to the bray, than we were cross-fired
by another, from Macon; and an extremely
piercing bray it was, as who should say, “I’ll
outbray that Augusta ass, and get more
money for it than he did.”
Os course, Atlanta was not to be left be
hind, The Atlanta spirit forbade it.
Atlanta’s donkey ambled to tKe firing line,
[With a shot gun for execution, and a watch,
Thomson, Ga., Thursday, March 2, 1916
to time the engagement; and the Atlanta
donkey brayed so loud, and so long, that it
fetched a little bob-tail Senator from Wash
ington, and a little bob-tail politician from
Macon, to meet in convivial companionship
at a banquet spread by King Coca-Cola.
Need I say that my sanctimonious friend,
St. Elmo Massengale was the ostensible giver
of the feast ?
Need I surmise that the cost of the same,
including tips to the waiters, was charged up
to the expense account of the Coca-Cola pro
paganda ?
For, look you! Coca-Cola has floored John
Barleycorn, has outlawed Billy Beer, has
made a pariah out of Sissy Near-beer, and is
now advancing victoriously against Peruna,
Wine of Cardui, Lemon Extract, Hostetter's
Bitters, All-other bitters, Paragoric, and
Bateman's Drops.
Never, never should things in Georgia have
come to this blissful State, had not some occult
influence imported Dr. Eichelberger into our
midst, and metamorphosed Bosh Felder, from
the lost condition of a corporation lobbyist,
into the angelic’ light of a social purist,*
altruist, perfectionist, transcendentalist and
Serene High Censor of Morals, both public
and private.
(I hope Clayt Bobson will not think there
is any levity in my allusions to his friend,
Bosh.)
So it came to pass that Coca-Cola, having
conquered everything visible, and having
wept because there was nothing more to con
quer, gave this banquet in Atlanta —in At
lanta, because no other city could appropri
ately furnish the setting for such a jewel of
a feast as Saint Elmo Massengale presided
over, in his dual capacity of Demo
cratic Chairman and Coca-Cola Advertising
Manager.
Did oratory flow at this banquet? You
bet it did.
Was there a felicitous union of wit and
wisdom at this festal board? You bet there
was.
Did the lights shine bright o'er fair women
and brave men ?
Alas, no fair women graced the scene, but
the men were brave —in fact, the bravest of
the brave.
Marshal Ney might have been proud to
have had his sword buckled around him by
the brave little Senator and the brave little
Nobody from Macon.
These fearless men declared, in substance,
that the Democratic party in Georgia is their
private property, to be controlled as they see
fit; and that whatever son of a gun dares to
tresspass upon the grass, or to disobey their
orders, should suffer the lesser and greater
ex co mmuni cation.
These fearless little men declared that who
ever had bolted a nomination in the past, or
refused to take a solemn oath never to do it
again, should be forever ostracised by the
little bob-tail Senator, and by his little No
body, from Macon.
These dauntless little men virtually threat
ened with their everlasting hostility,' all such
Democrats as did not turn out at the May
primary and vote for Professor Woodpile
Wilson.
So! There you are! Bang!
Yell, the laic does not compel any self
i especting man to vote at such a primary j
and if the men of Georgia are as brave as
the little bob-tail Senator and his Macon
boot-lick, they will assert their manhood and
independence by staying at home, instead
of voting in the May primary.
Not courting a personal insult at the polls,
on that day, I will not go there, and J ask
my friends throughout the State to do the
same thing, and thus maintain their self
respect.
But the oratory at this Coca-Cola banquet
was strangely oblivious of many persons and
things.
One of Georgia's great Independents and
bolters, was the late Senator Benjamin IL
Hill.
Another, to whom Georgians owe a vast
and unacknowledged service, was the late Dr.
William H. Felton.
Practically an Independent and bolter, was
Alexander 11. Stephens, as his letters to Dr.
Felton show.
Y hat was Alfred 11. Colquitt, when he
broke out of the convention of 1880, xcithout
a nomination, and made his race on a
“recommendation” ?
I wonder how many of the Atlanta gentle
men at the Coca-Cola banquet supported Bob
Maddox for Mayor, and elected him with
Bepublican negro votes, after Jim Woodward"
had fairly won the nomination in the Demo
cratic white primary!
At the Coca-Cola banquet, some tart and
taunting speeches were made concerning
visits which aspiring statesmen had made,
from time to time, to a certain country home,
* which is located somewhere near Thomson, on
a slight and innocent eminence, known as
Hickory Hill.
The orators at the banquet had evidently
imbibed so much of the “Sunday School
beverage”—as Bill S. Witham dubs it—that
they were refreshed to the point of extreme
exhiliration; and their minds—so far as they
possess any —were so confused as to lose ail
sense of proportion.
For example, it was argued, with comical
earnestness, fatuous persistence and pathetic
imbecility, that hereafter the Democratic
party —or so much of it as belongs to the
little bob-tailed Senator —should never again
fellowship any human being whose footsteps
had led him up the grade to Hickory Hill.
Good and loyal Democrats may dishonor
their gambling debts, and have "their faces
slapped on account of the repudiation, and
it will all be forgiven and forgotten; but if
ever they visit the man whose home is on
ON PAGE EIGHT.)
Price, Five Gents
