“Once upon a time there was a little boy; a nice little boy, whom you would have liked if you had known him—at least so his mother says. He had been brought up in the traditions of the old South, to which the two most important things in the world were good cooking and good manners. He obeyed his mother and father, and ate his peas with a fork, and never buttered the whole slice of his bread. On Sunday mornings he carefully shined his shoes and brushed his clothes at the window, and got into a pair of tight kid gloves and under a tight little brown derby hat, and walked with his parents to a church on Fifth Avenue. On week-days he studied hard and obeyed his teachers, and in every field of thought and activity he believed what was told him by those in authority. He learned the catechism and thought it was the direct word of God. When he fell sick and the doctor came, he put himself in the doctor’s hands with a sense of perfect trust and content; the doctor knew what to do, and would do it, and the little boy would get well.”
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The paragraph above begins Chapter One of Part One of a book written just over a century ago by a writer who may have met Mark Twain. He certainly seems to have read Mark Twain. So far, this is all I’ve read of the book. I’ll explain another day what the book has to do with 9/11 truth and how many copies of it exist in central and western Massachusetts public libraries and provide its title and subtitle.
The title is not “Those Were the Days.” Click HERE for a link to a song with that title.
— Mark Channing Miller