Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 231, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 September 1911 — HOW TO FAT ROASTING EARS [ARTICLE]

HOW TO FAT ROASTING EARS

Exuberant Poetical Instructions V' hr the Proper Handling of Green 0f : , Corn at the Table. Don’t cut it down and eat it with a ■poon. Don’t stick silver spikes In the end and run it as a lathe. Don’t break it into nubbins and nibble it from between tififc forefinger and the thumbX This is no dinky business. It is as big as the morning sunshine. It is not just eating; it is not keeping soul and body together. It is lotting the soul out, letting It range over broad acres of waring corn, that rival the heavens in glory and extent, the finest token of earth's richness and prodigality anywhere seen. ’ Catch onto that. Flaunt your fancy about In the limitless 1 ocean of sunshine and showers, of which the roasting ear is only a wfep of the creamy spray. This thing of tackling a roasting ear, like a stolid urate, for the corn Itself, lowers it to the level of picking up chips oh running an errand; he is Just satisfying an fppetite and might as well eat fried onions with a caseknife. That kills hunger. It silences a craving. But eating green corn has a higher mission than that. It puts one as close to nature aar lying In a bed of lilies. One cannot taste the sunshine anywhere as when he seizes a juicy ear of corn in his eager fists and goes at Jt tilth an open countenance and a happy smile, ripping off thef rows of sweetened dews and dawns till his mouth and soul reek with delight.

Elat It on tlie cob; the whole cob; the longer the better. Take It as nature gives It to yon-vlts naked beauty, In its Jeweled loveliness, In Its juicy richness. Don’t peck it as a blackbird does a sunflower, but revel In It, luxuriate in it, bite all of the tints of morn, the soft #ales of the afternoon, the glow of the starlight, the hymn of the sparrow, the laughing dewdrops and the smile of the rainbow —they are all there for the alert soul that has a fancy above food. He who does not see thdm nor feel them is not worthy of a roasting ear. But the main thing is the recklessness in the eating it, the joyous abandon in cleaving oft the pearly richness, the getting right down into the glory of the act, mindless of napkin, finger bowls or who is looking. A dilletante cannot any more eat com on the cob than he can skin a cat. He measures his acts by a stifling propriety and not by the broad light of the soul. Dear readetV Join the soul and eat com like a sparrow files to heaven —with a song on your mouth. —Chamber’s Journal.