The world turns green today in honor of that famous snake-destroyer St. Patrick. In those capitals of Ireland, Boston and New York, green clad parades will tie up traffic for untold hours, shopkeepers of all sorts will adopt a thick brogue in self-protection from belligerent green partisans, and the green flag for a day supercedes all others.
The Irish influence in the United States is undoubtedly tremendous. Governor Smith, says the press, will wear a green scarf and green socks to celebrate the occasion. The Western Union has concocted a series of "Top o' the mornin' to you" telegrams pasted on green blanks. Shamrocks sprout in every stationery store window. Nature looks complacently on her favorite sons and does her best to hurry along the forces of spring and tint the grass green. And the Irish poets do their best to prove that she has succeeded.
Meanwhile, after a slight pause to pay its respects to the good saint, the world will go sedately on its way, scarcely bothering to listen to the plaints of such organizations as the Klan, turning green with envy.
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THE SIXTH CLAUSE
