AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A PENNSYLVANIAN
| But plain it is that Penny knows |
| What bitter ire the people feel |
| Against the authors of its woes, |
| The wreckers of the commonweal. |
| Hence, while he pats them on the back |
| He bids them take another tack. |
| Reforms upon reforms he piles. |
| “All these,” quoth he, “ye must provide |
| If ye would win the people's smiles. |
| And from the dread toboggan slide |
| Your party save, which else no doubt |
| Will wither up and peter out.” |
| Thus runs the message, curious hash |
| Of reason and of rabid rant, |
| It may ward off the threatened crash |
| And will, if what the voters want |
| Is granted. Meanwhile, anyhow, |
| To Schwenksville's sage we all must bow. |
During this month a man named Michael Carrazola, a wealthy Italian, was murdered and, the crime being attributed to a “Black Hand” anarchistic organization in Washington County, the police made search and found a lot of correspondence showing a plot to remove a number of prominent people over the country, including myself. One of the New York magazines published an article upon the subject. One of the annoyances to which men in conspicuous station are subjected, especially when newspapers are interested in creating antagonisms, is the great number of cranks of one kind or other who continually pursue them. James Auter, the colored barber who had long been doorkeeper in the executive department, was always on the watch for these people. Through my term there was scarcely a week in which threatening letters were not received. Every once in a while came a suspicious package which James dumped into a bucket of water and then took apart. Among them were many curious devices.
