To the Editors of the CRIMSON:

Dadgum it! A friend o' mine hand me a passel o' ed'torial pages from the CRIMSON 'tother day, as I wuz warmin' m'self next th' potbellied stove up to th' country store. They wuz mark'd all over with blue crayon like they wuz important ,er somethin'.

When I read 'em, I jump up, I did, an' durn near swaller'd my quid o' baccy. Seems like them college fellers has it in real bar fer Joe M'Carthy, 'Course, when I think o' some o' th' things Joe says 'bout Pussy an' commie-coodlin' at Harvard, can't say as I blame 'em. An' th' way th' Sen'tor wuz feudin' with thet army feller (heard that one over in th' ray-dee-o), I kin git pretty damn well het up m'self.

But this gunin' fer Joe all th' time, it don't seem right to me. Alln't you fellers puttin' all your 'tention on th' smoke an' fergettin' bout th' fire?

Th' varmints thet lit thet fire hope to hell it'll burn down th' good life in this hore coutnry, 'spite of th' Const'tution, th' Bill o' Rights an' our states' rights an' all sech. My great gran'pappy he'p'd build this country, too. He wuz wounded oiver there on Rev'lutionary Ridge, righ here in Concord, Buried over in Sleepy Holler, he is.

Now, I'member once when I wuz a kid my Dad had trouble with skunks stealin' eggs from th' hen coop. He took down his gun one day an' he shot them skunks. Made a lot o' noise, but he sure fixed 'om. Didn't have no trouble 't all after that.

Take this here M'Carthy feller, he's ketchin' skunks, lots of 'em. (They's more'n just "an eyeful"!) Maybe some folks don't like how he does it. It's noisy, smelly business. But until some one come 'long an gifts them skunks good--an' gits 'em gooder'n he does--I'm fer lettin' Joe keep right on a-huntin'.

By th' by, how many skunks hev you ed'tors act'ally ketch'd? Au' all them classy letter-writers a-hollerin' their heads off? How many of 'em are honest-to-goodness skunk hunters? It's one thing to say ya hate skunks--altogether another matter when they's hunt'd. 'Course they do, dadgum it! They don't like it. Truly yours,   The Old Minuteman   (As reported by Kenneth D. Robertson, Jr. '29)