"He instinctively can find the shining greatness of our American culture and does a good job of highlighting it (although he also does have those rare lapses when he writes about hockey, but that is something caused by impurities in the Eastern waters or something)." Erik Keilholtz
Under the patronage of St. Tammany
Mark C. N. Sullivan is an editor at a Massachusetts university. He is married and the father of three children. Email
A yarn spun in the Berkshire County (Mass.) Eagle on Jan. 8, 1858 was that of a young man smitten with a lass. He was shown into the parlor of her home one day and found her asleep on the sofa. He proceeded to pose a query to her he would not be so bold as to speak were she awake: “My dearest Betsy, tell me, oh, tell me the object of your fondest affections.” Her response: “I love Heaven, my country and baked beans.”...
The Citizen, a newspaper in Smethport, Pennsylvania, reported on Dec. 24, 1859:
“A chap arrested at Boston, for stealing Pork, made the following defence: ‘From my youth upwards I have loved baked beans, I have a passion, for that substantial dish that baffles all description. Without beans I am miserable. With beans I am happy. Beans! I want for breakfast—beans I want for dinner, a cold beans for supper. A few days since my pork barrel was empty. What was I to do? I had plenty of beans, but not a pound of pork. I was in despair, and knew not what to do. If I missed my pork and beans I should die...”
While in “this frame of mind,” the defendant declared, he spotted the pork and pilfered it, explaining that if he had not been apprehended, “I should have had pork enough for my beans for six months.” #
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