Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 101, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 April 1912 — Short Furows. [ARTICLE]

Short Furows.

Published with the consent of the author Abe Martin (Kin Hubbard) from the Indianapolis News of last Saturday. Th’ craze fer speed an’ luxury in these days o’ seventy horse power tourin’ cars, Ijall slim skyscrapers, eighteen hour trains F New York an’ ocean liners with croquet grounds an’ swimmin’ pools must bewilder th’ ole fashioned homebuddy. Nearly ever’buddy you meet seems t’ have a mile er two lead on his income an’ shoWin* no fatigue. They may be populists, non-partisans, socialists, standpatters er genuine reformers in politics, but ther real progressives in orey-thing else—an’ th’ element o’ danger only seems t’ make ’em all th' more progressive. They hunt th’ churches with th’ softest 'cushions, th’ hutels with th’ most flub dubs, trains that only touch th’ high places, autos that kin scarcely turn oround in a ball park an,’ ships as long as a tile mill. Constable Plum’s married daughter, up t’ Indynoplus, says it’s somethin’ fierce up ther. She says if a feller keeps a hoss an’ buggy he’s rated as hard up. If you call on anybuddy it makes ’em mad if you come on a street -car instead of a auto fer fear th’ neighbors ’ll talk about it. Some folks fast fer a week list to show off In a case Sunday night an’ smoke at th’ table an’ act prosperous. They’ll give ih’ waiter a quarter an’ then walk two miles t’ their homes. It’s gittin so people won’t ride on a train that stops at Winchester er Fortville. They’r rather git killed on somethin’ faster. If you want a doctor you’ve got t’ go about a square from th’ oon fer ther all in the skyscrapers. If you take your folks t’ th’ theatre an’ set back o’ th’ tenth row some woman ’ll say: “It seems t’ me If my husband wuz a clerk I’d set closer t’ th’ stage than th’ tenth row.” v lt’s fun t’ hear a feller with a eighteen ninety-six derby hat talkin’ about his nineteen twelve car. A doctor ’ll tell a feller that he jist must git out in th’ air. An’ then th’ feller’ll run in debt fer a tourin’ car an’ stand th’ doctor off. Folks talk about goto’ t’ Europe jist like they wuz goln’t’ Muncie. They want t’ play lawn tennis all th’ way over an’ then splash around in a swimmin’ pool all th’ way back. “People seems t’ be crazy about runnin’ in debt er paying money fer ever-thing bttt necessities," said a corner grocer, as he sprinkled Kis lettuce an’ started out to deliver a ten-cent can o’ salmon three miles out on North Meridian street Constable Plum’s married daughter up t’ Indynoplus heard him say it Ther haint no excuse fer bein’ appalled at nothin’ these days when ever’buddy that steps on boat er train wants t’ wake up at ther destination.