CROW SCOUTS SEARCH FOR NEW CONVENTION SITE

Two crows flew in from the Southland last week to scout the site of their upcoming October Convention.

They were Radicals. And being Radicals, they were enormously upset by the fact that four of their sycamore hotels nearby the Troll Bridge were in dismal, yea, horrible shape. Shambles. One of them had crashed to the ground, scattering rooms, porches, piazzas and porticoes in all directions. Limbs sawed off to mere stubs indicated to them that all seven edifices, sometimes called the seven ~Buttonwood Sisters, would be gone by October.

That meant that a new site would have to be chosen for the Southern delegation, or at least the Radical portion of it. They had decided to split with the main body which had been split, splat and splintering for several years now.

The two Radical Crows cawed and hawed so vociferously about it, the laid-back meadowlarks and red-wings took off hastily. Two hundred forty-nine crickets hushed and the old Troll poked his wrinkled, sparsely-haired head around a bridge support post to see what in Trolldom's name was going on. His mouth was stained with the juice from ripe elderberries and since he still had a mouth full of the berries he made no comment other than to spit purply into the creek then retreated to his usual invisible quarters.

The Radicals kept up their noisy objections to the demolition before their beady eyes. Since their usual meeting place was being destroyed it might be difficult to get the delegation all in one place for serious discussion of upcoming matters, and there were surely some dizzying, predeliberative propositions to discuss in preparation for next year's big four-year Jubilcrowation.

They flew about here and there, cawing continuously, until they found the big pecan tree alongside the Little Ditch. After deciding that it would be their meeting place they flew back to the crumbling sycamore hotels only to find that two more limbs had fallen off.

~Although one of the Radicals felt it was a premonition to the outcome of their proposed propositions to be posed, he didn't say so. Instead he suggested that they tack their theses and d~irections to the trunk of the biggest sycamore hotel left in the hope that it would still be there come Convention time and the straggler-inners could find the pecan tree.

So they found the inside side of a cardboard six-pack and scratched a proposed agenda.

1. All wheat, corn, oats, barley and other above ground legumes shall be kept within the confines of the United States. Not one bean for Beirut, Baghdad, Bulgaria, etc. Not one corn for Croatia, Cameroon, Congo, etc. Not one wheat for Waziristan, Wakayama, or whatever.

2. All fresh meat found on highways shall be left where felled. That includes skunks. The Crowsurgeon General has said that crows need protein too. Fresh meat in slaughter houses shall be treated provincially as the grains mentioned above.

3. All rumors of guns, slingshots, bazookas, bayonets, A and H bombs, automatic rifles, etc. shall be passed on to the High Potentate of Crowdom. Confiscation shall occur. (How and in what manner will be left up to the Crow Intelligentsia). Confiscation of such shall be returned to man for the express purpose of making plowshares to cultivate wheat, corn, barley, oats, etc.

4. A commission shall be appointed to inspect seeds to determine if additives have been injected to cause de-featherization, de-beaking, egg-shell softening that leads to non-hatching, and such other onerous, dastardly deeds.

5. If any fly in ahead of time, acquaint yourself with this agenda if it still be here and tell all that you see that our meeting place will be in the Nut Tree.

REJOICE!