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We’re getting love letters from the poor, poor government. The State and our poverty-stricken Uncle Sam is sending little notea to his loving nieces and nephews, reminding them that taxes are due. !
Now’s the time for all good men to dig into their jeans and help the government go several more billions into debt. This subject could be elaborated upon to some extent, but there keeps flashing into my mind a pert phrase used by a co-worker' of mine: “Don’t tell me your troubles, I’ve got troubles of my own!” --*
The wild geese went over Monday on> their way south. Over the town of Washington at one time they went into two V’s. Of. course, some wag remarked that the lead gander's mate took over while they flew over the “She-Town,” as Dr. Snead named it.
No one in Rappahannock had
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