ROANOKE TIMES 
                      Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times

DATE: Monday, February 17, 1997              TAG: 9702190018
SECTION: EXTRA                    PAGE: 1    EDITION: METRO 
COLUMN: BEN BEAGLE
SOURCE: BEN BEAGLE

HOW CRUEL TO SUFFER INDIGNITY OF THE POLLS

Thomas Jefferson was at Monticello on the Other Side trying to see if the bricklayers were working down at the university. There was too much fog for his telescope and he was in a testy mood when the rider came up the Little Mountain.

"Mornin' tuh yew, Master Tom." the rider said. "Th' fog be so thick this mornin' thet me old eyes wuz barely able tuh discern Mr. Michie's tavern as I come dewt-tee-fully up to Monty-Sello."

"I tell you now, you impudent fellow," the Sage of Monticello said, "that I have no interest either in your observations on the weather or of your troubles getting here. Now if you have news, out with it, or get your dubious body off my mountain."

"Thet be passin' crule, Master Tom," the rider said, "given all thim times I've rode up here tuh keep yer honor current. It wuz me what passed up uh hot cup at Michie's this very day."

"You taunt me, you wretch," Jefferson said. "One wonders why patriot blood was spilled to assure freedom for those of your ilk."

"Beggin' yer pardon, Master Tom," the rider said, "but I ain't never heerd of yerself bearin' arms of enny kind."

"The NEWS, you miserable person!" Jefferson stormed.

"Well, sor," the rider said, "it duz seem thim peepul Over There has gone and dun one of thim poles on who wuz th' best of th' pressy-idents."

"Out with it, you rogue," Jefferson said.

"Well, sor,'' the rider said, "it wuzn't like yew're in th' same boat with Warren Harding or Herbert Hoover or even George Bush."

"Out with it," Jefferson said.

"Well, 'tis me whut doan't uhgree with it," the rider said, moving away from Jefferson as he spoke, "but yew be amung thim pressy-idents whut wuz jist near-great."

"My God," Jefferson said. "Will this tyranny never end? Which among them was the greatest?"

"Thet be Mr. Washington, Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Franklin Roosevelt," the rider said. "They put yer honor in with Teddy Roosevelt, amung others."

"In with a Bull Mooser," Jefferson said. "How cruel are the uses of destiny."

"If it's enny help tuh yer, sor, Jimmy Carter din't do too good neither," the rider said.

"And not a damned one of them had enough sense to write the Declaration of Independence," Jefferson said.

The fog was worsening. The rider spurred down the mountain toward Michie's Tavern. Jefferson took to his ingenious bed with a migraine.

LENGTH: Medium:   54 lines