Main Street

Main Street

Snow in April

Snow in April. Gosh all hemlock!

When's the Winter goin' to end?

Time we 'gun t' get nice weather,

Somethin' we might recommend.

My overcoat -- where was that put?

Gone my gloves and rubbers, too.

Packed away my heavy flannels,

Darn foolish thing f'r me t' do.

But I won't shovel. No, by hang,

Even if it snows all day,

As the Lord sees fit to giveth,

So, too, He can take away.

Snow in April. Gosh all hemlock!

When's the Winter goin' t' end?


The first volley in a war against indecent movies will be fired in the Catholic Diocese of Albany on May 6 when a band of 60 preachers will start to battle under the direction of the Rev. James E. Kelly, former Little Falls resident, now an Albany pastor. Groups will be formed in every city and town in the diocese with the aim of persuading people to refrain from attending movies of a questionable character. Special addresses will be made to school children and they will be asked to stay away from shows blacklisted on a calendar that will be kept up-to-date by weekly changes.

The crusade, the first of its kind around this part of the country, is not directed against local exhibitors (though they will suffer some, of course), but rather against film producers who, it is believed, will come to their senses after being kicked hard in the box office. Exhibitors generally have agreed that it would be better for all concerned if they were allowed to select their pictures, but this is not permissible in lot buying, the present method of contract. Perhaps a few campaigns of this nature will bring the desired results in breaking up this obnoxious racket.


Perhaps it never happened, but my informant -- and he has been a very dependable Main Street scout -- says it did. He tells me the one about a local dentist who took gas to have a filling put in. He further suggests that was not so much as to test the efficiency of the new anaesthesia that was being tried out at Schenectady as it was the desire to avoid the pain he inflicts on a large number of patients, in seeming wonderment of their inability to take it. The newly discovered gas, so my non-professional friend tells me, is not like the gas now commonly used. It does not cause the patient to lose complete consciousness, but brings about a state of ... well, how shall I express it? ... a state of ... suppose we put it in his words -- "It just knocks you kind of goofy."

If that means we are to have painless dentistry at last, then I'm for it. Nor shall I censure the D.D S. for having it tried out on himself before experimenting with his patients. The average victim of teething troubles would feel a lot better, I'm sure, if the dentist would first jump into the chair and drill around his own molars just to show that there was nothing to it. In the electric chair, it is all over in a few seconds. In the dental chair -- O-o-o-o-o-ouch!


There is always something mysterious about that mark -- X. It has fascinated me since that day long ago when the first jaunts into the realms of higher mathematics revealed it as the unknown quantity. And even now I find interest in a diagram on which X marks the spot where something happened. That is why I happened to ask questions when I strolled into a Main Street store and saw the same symbol marked on a card containing fountain pens. There were perhaps a half dozen pens gone from the card and brief jottings indicated the reason. Initials presumably meant the identity of the clerk making the sale and one vacant space was marked "stolen." Next to it was the vacant space marked X.

"Well, it was like this," I was informed. "We have had so many pens stolen that we thought it would be a good idea to keep track of the sales. Some were sold and then one was unaccounted for. So we marked that space 'stolen,' hoping that it might shame or frighten some of the light-fingered artists. But it didn't. The next day another pen was missing. We couldn't mark down the initials of the clerk who made the sale, because there was no sale. We were afraid to mark 'stolen' again for fear that some folks might get the idea the shop-lifting racket is that easy in here. And so we put down an X -- just like you are going to do, instead of using the name of the store, if you print this story."

This was originally published April 12, 1934.