P H-S U [sic]
P should pass into innocuous desuetude,
more honored in breach than in observance. For not now as of yore
do only patriots offer honest, harmless, hearty American hands to
our Presidents. The treacherous Joabs of Anarchy walk in the ranks
with patriots, stealthily stealing their infamous way among a trusting
Nationís people, soiling the sacred soil and defiling the once pure
air of law regulated freedom. Let this promiscuous hand shaking
cease and anarchists cease to be in this land of Constitutional
Liberty. Let the custom pass from official usage with our Presidents.
Over the martyred bier of this, the
best of Presidents, let Americans swear to rid the land of Anarchyís
stealthy peril. Fiends unfit to touch the hem of Libertyís garment
kill and cry anarchy. Let not again their murderous hands touch
an American President. Let the custom pass. It breeds microbic infection
and anarchic paranoiacism. All are not patriots, as aforetime when
men approached Freedomís Chief Custodian to clasp his honored hand.
Let the custom pass and the red flag of Anarchy and its upholders
find other homes than the Land of our Freedom.