Beware the Night Air, Controversial Sheep, My Trip

Well, I apologize profusely for not writing recently; I’m certain at least one or two may have missed my scattered comments on the tilted “plain of mankind” (to borrow an image from Piers Plowman) that is Dustpec. Had a bout with the vapors; I’m certainly glad that they have finally passed. I blame them, frankly, on the night air. While most of you hold to the scientism of our modern age that blames all on “germ theory,” I, for one, still believe that noxious gasses still play a role in contagion. Well, one way or another, whether you believe it or not, I recommend you avoid the night air. Even if it doesn’t turn you inside out, there may very well be something flying in the wind that is going to hurt you. Take my advice, hunker down, hunker down Dustpecians. Daylight is bad enough.

Seems like every time I am gone—especially those months I was in the Sanatorium—all sorts of controversy breaks forth in Dustpec, breaks forth like a flywheel gone horribly wrong. I remember the time the Crusading Young Editor’s miniature version of the Corliss Engine took on a life of its own and ended up knocking Hoots to the ground. But I digress. I came back to work on Monday and all I kept hearing about was “that damn sheep is coming to Dustpec.” After various enquires, the Wandering Historian finally set me straight on the matter. Seems that people at the Company Store decided to change the theme of its annual “Farm and Ranch Day”—which, traditionally, has been “You have to buy the seed from us, and you will pay again whether it sprouts or not,” to “Sheep: A Model for Young America.” As yet, I haven’t heard anyone who is enthusiastic about this; indeed, most Dustpecians seem just this side of enraged. “We are cattle country!” opined Thunderclap, “at least when they live.” “Sheep are like Congress,” commented Stuntz while mixing an elixir, “they may look docile, but a musty odor bodes no good.” I suppose Miss Amy put it best, “I fail to see why a preternaturally large sheep will inspire our youth to greatness. At best, wool may itch enough to get them to move; at worst, it will cause a rash, a lack of attention, and sloth.” Indeed. One way or another, however, the GIANT SHEEP is coming to Dustpec, and I guess we are going to have to put up with it. I’ve decided to attend. Now, some of you will not, or are going to protest the GIANT SHEEP in various ways—I hear that Trapper Matt is going to wear a hat shaped like a giant bear, and Lightening will wear dark glasses and be dressed like George Sand—that’s fine. After all, it is still a free country, though the week is not yet over. For my part, I’ve decided that I’ll attend and behave; please be assured, however, that this is not mere supine submission on my part nor, to be sure, is this any sign of support for sheep. My unswerving passion for red meat remains the same. I guess, all in all, the coming visit of the GIANT SHEEP is a challenge not dissimilar to the time last year when the “Travelling Temperance Brigade” passed through town on their way Downstate:

We put up with their singing, their unexpectedly swift and random movements, their decidedly monotonous garb, and even their ability to bore dogs into slumber; they eventually left, and we woke up the dog and got back to drinking. So, if we were able to endure them, I don’t see why we can’t put up with the sheep. Then again, what if it decides to pasture here…Well, I’d better close. I’ve got to start packing my trunk for my trip overseas next week. Yes, the King of Denmark has indeed invited me to a royal audience. Seems he’s heard of Manly Thoughts and Dustspec and, in a typical fit of royal whimsy, wants to learn more about our tiny, quadrilateral, oasis of HUMANISM and TRUE PROGRESSIVE THOUGHT out here on the rim of the known world. I’ll be back soon and will report on the herring. Till then…

Our Country’s Independence Was Not Won By Creatures That Bleat