Democratic Sentinel, Volume 18, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 July 1894 — Which Was Which? [ARTICLE]

Which Was Which?

“Do you know, my friend,” said the profound-looking man to the dumb-looking fellow, “do you know that there aie tendencies at work In this country which, vampire-like, are sucking the life-blood of our institutions? “No,” said the dumb-looking fellow. “Do you know that the artistic and a?3thetic sens? of our population is being strangled by a sordid and crass materialism?” “No,” said the dumb-looking fellow. “Do you mean to say.” asked the profound-looking stranger, “that you are not aware of the baleful Influences which are at work, the occult, but no less deadly, agencies which antagonize our integral perpetuity?” “No,” said the dumb-looking fellow. “Are you not alarmed, then, my friend, lest these agencies undermine and overthrow this glorious national edifice which our fathers have builded, and for which statesmen have wrought, and yeomen have toiled, and patriots have died?” “No,” said the dumb-looking fellow. Just then a man came from the rear platform, held out his hand to the dumb-looking fellow, and said: “Hullo, Jim! How’s your dog?” “Gosh, Bill, you oughter see that dorg,” said the man who looked dumb no longer. “You ought to see him. There never wuz a dorg like that dorg sence the fust dorg was built. He’s got more sense than you jin’ I an’ this ’ere dood together.” And he pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the profound-looking stranger. “More sense than all on us. Set him on track of a rabbit, nose to the groun’, tail up, eyes squirtin’ lightnin’, howlin’ like a good un. he’s a sight wuth travelin’ roun’ the world to see. Best dorg you ever see. Got a brain on him like Disraeli, but he’s got fleas. Say, mister,” and he addressed the profound-looking man, “do you know what will cure a dog of fleas?” “No, sir,” said the profound-look-ing stranger. “Don’t know any kind of Mntment nor nothin’ that’ll kill 'em off?” “No, sir.” “No dorg-wash nor anythin’ erthat ! sor?” “No, sir.” “No kind er plzen nor nothin’?” “No, sir.” “Take no interest in dogs?” “Not the slightest.” The train stopped here, and the profound-looking stranger got out. “Stupid clown!” said he to the j brakeman as he glanced at the man of dogs. The man of dogs turned to his friend and said: “Duffer, ain’t he?”