Column was written by James R. Lytle, and not copied here. Included in the column was a poem written by mother:
Our older son has just begun
To learn to play the flute;
We think his tones are marvelous,
And sit in rapture mute.
Why have the neighbors such pained looks
Our collie tries to sing, no doubt,
As they are passing by?
Why does our collie whine and yowl,
Then move away and sigh?
The neighbors must be envious,
And wish their sons could toot;
When Virgil plays the flute.
Florence B. Taylor
Next -10/23/39 - Town Hall Lecture. Lord Marley