The Power of the “Press”
“Now, girls,” warned the Sunday School teacher, “I want to caution you against making friends with the new barber who has just opened a shop in the village. A friend of mine who knew him in the town where he was reared tells me he tries to make love to every girl he calls on.”
“The girls in this burg are sure friendly,” confided the new barber to one of his patrons two days later. “Last night I took a stroll around the town and every girl I met smiled at me.”
* * *
The lightning flashed, the lightning crashed,
The skies were rent asunder,
With shriek and wail loud blew the gale,
And then it rained like thunder.
* * *