The ides of March are synonymous with the taxreturn season—twigs and burnished leaves, and desks piled high with dog-eared scraps of paper. The easy-come, easy-go summertime remains only as a pleasant memory, and the stimulating winter holidays are passing. The in-between period is becoming dull and worrisome for those who procrastinate with their tax accounts. Their concern is blended with the dubious consolation of the old Indian: "If I lasts through March me lives another year." At this point, Uncle Sam comes forward with firmness of purpose, causing the recalcitrant taxpayer to draw himself closer and closer to his desk, or... and the mental holiday is over.
Taxes are charged with idiosyncracies. This was true in Cicero's time, and the exhortations were appropriate to stimulate interest and support: "Revenues are sinews of the State." Caesar agreed, but with softening tone, that "the part of a good shepherd is to shear