Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 October 1884 — Physics. [ARTICLE]

Physics.

“Professor,” said the man from Arizona, “there’s a durn fool down to Brag’s grocery es wants ter wager es he can fill sack full o’ wet sand, tie a rope two hundred feet long outer it, tackle his mule ter the end o’ the line, an’ thet the critter ’ll dror it twenty rods. ” “And he believes the mule can do it. ” “Fifty dollars’ w'orth. That’s what he’s a reckonin’ on. ” “But it’s a physical impossibility!” “Sure?” “Certain! Let me explain. What is the weight of the bag of sand ?” “Well, say two hundred pounds.” “Two hundred pounds! Well, see here. The gravity of the sand will be increased by the length of the rope, in the proportion of a square of the weight to each nine feet of line, progressing by compound attraction until the weight would be fabulous.” “I didn’t quite catch on. Give us it a little easier,” said the Arizona man, with a sigh. The Professor took out his note book and proceeded to explain: “Let X equal the ’unknown weight Let Y equal the weight of the bag of sand. Let Z equal the progressive ratio. Then if the line measures 198 feet, X equals Z multiplied by Y multiplied 22. Therefore X equals nineteen tons, seven pounds and six ounces. And I maintain there isn’t a mule in creation could budge that bag of sand a fractional part of an inch. See?” “See! Good'Lord, it’s as dark to me es a blind negro at night lookin’ fur a a black cat in a dark cellar. ”

“Well, let us go over it once more. Lgt X equal ” “Not for a farm, I’ll take yer word for it. By-by!” Two hours afterw’ard the man from Arizona came back with blood in his eye and his face as red as a beet. “Well,” ci-ied the Prdfessor, “have you tried the experiment?” “Ihev!” “I should have liked to have, seen that fellow’s chagrin. I fancy I can see it. He tied the rope to the sand bag, hitched on his mule, and the poor dumb, patient creature ” “Yanked it off without a’ effort,” yelled the man from Arizona, “an’ dror’d it all over the village!” The Professor fainted.— Evansville Argus.