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Editorial on: “The National Menace”

This month marks the fortieth anniversary of the United Amateur Press Association, founded by William Greenfield and his associates in 1895. During the same forty years there has existed a rival association with the same purpose and ideals. Both have grown and flourished, in spite of each other’s existence. That such is the case is due largely to the fact that a majority of members in each association were level-headed enough to ignore the attempts of a few to stir up hatred and contempt.

Experience has shown that when a member of either organization attempts to disparage the other, he only succeeds in bringing discredit upon the one with which he is affiliated. So, it is evident that we, the present generation of United members, should bend our efforts toward maintaining friendly relations with our fellow-amateurs in the N.A.P.A.

Unfortunately, this is made very difficult because of a self-seeking group of politicians within our own ranks who continually spread propaganda about a mythical “National Menace” to the UAPA. Since one of these agitators happens to hold a responsible position in the United – gained entirely through his lack of scruples – it is only natural that a large percentage of our members has hearkened to his false doctrines.

The truth will always prevail, however, and the thinking member will eventually become cognizant of the fact that he is being misled by those who would not hesitate to destroy the United in order to gain their own ends.

Hits and Bits
by the Editor

A few weeks ago, a new Constitution was adopted by the New England Amateur Press Club, under which it is now free from affiliation with any other organization. Sick and tired of the petty bickering between United and National members, we have made up our minds to promote the spread of amateur journalism as a hobby, without being hampered by politicians whose tactics are disgusting to the average amateur.

The N.E.A.P.C. is now the only real democracy in amateur journalism. If you desire to join and receive our very interesting quarterly bundles, write to the editor for further details and an application blank.

EVERY amateur who can possibly make the trip to Boston is cordially invited to attend the second convention of the New England club on October 12th.

THANK you, Bill Haywood, for the hospitality tendered the editor upon his visit to the New York convention. He is also much obliged to George Trainer, Jr., for the many copies of amateur papers which he received.

THERE are now no fewer than a half-dozen “Millers” in the United. The latest member of the famous family to join is John E. Miller, brother of the editor. He will be heard from in the near future.

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A Strange Adventure
by James Francis

IT was something that I had never before encountered. My friends had all told me that there was nothing to fear, but despite their kind words I was gripped with a nameless dread. Seized with an almost overwhelming desire to fight, I wanted to strike out at the people about me even though I knew such an attempt would be useless, for my arms and legs were securely fastened. There was nothing I could do but submit.

My body became numb. I tried to cry out and found I could not. An almost maddening pressure came into my head and the room began to spin about crazily. I closed my eyes and a clicking sound penetrated my brain. At first I imagined I was seated in a railroad Pullman listening to the click of the rails. But try as I would I could not think correctly. My mind refused to function. Then… oblivion….

As consciousness returned, I found that I could open my eyes slightly, but my mind was so befuddled that I could not comprehend what was happening. One thing that amazed me was the fact that I had no control over my tongue. Foolish mutterings came in a continuous stream from my lips, and I was powerless to stop them. People nearby were laughing at the things I said. Finally, natural sleep claimed me.

When I awoke, I felt very much refreshed. My mind was clear and understanding came back to me. I remembered everything, now. I was in the hospital. The doctor had ordered an operation: they had taken me to the operating room, strapped me down on the table, and administered an anesthetic. The procedure had caused me to experience some very unpleasant sensations, and now I was content to lie in bed and rejoice that it was over….

(Editor’s note: The above article was written by Jim as he lay in a hospital at Minot N.D., awaiting a second trip to the operating room.)

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Published by Francis W. Miller, Brighton, Mass.
Member: UAPA – NEAPC – The Crusaders

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