Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 177, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 July 1916 — DAY OF THE CATASTROPHE [ARTICLE]

DAY OF THE CATASTROPHE

Otdtfmers Remember with Regret the Period When the Preserves Had Been Used Up. We dreaded that trip to the cellar. Well we knew that good things could not last forever. With fear and trembling we had approached the shelf, and had always come away with the reward of our hardihood in hoping that the trip would not be our last. Then came the day of the catastrophe. Company had dropped In unexpectedly at various and sundry times and always we had had recourse to the swinging shelf in the corner of the cellar, and, truth to tell, it had never disappointed us. The day had been cold and dark and dreary. It rained, and the wind was never weary, or something like that. For once it seemed that we were to be permitted to spend a Sunday all alone. Not, of course, that we did not appreciate our friends. But even friends pall, at times. We would make the Journey downstairs again. True, it was getting late in the season, but there surely must be one more good pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. And yet, did we bring the last one up two weeks ago when the Joneses dropped in? We were not sure. It did seem that with the steady inroads we had made on the supply it was about due for a finish. But fate would not be so cruel as to mark finis at such a time. Searching the pages of history for like cases, we could not recall one single instance where a supply of anything was Inexhaustible if used constantly. But down the cellar steps we ventured, switching on the light as we

went Past the furnace and through the dividing door we ambled, the fear gripping at our heart On past the light meter, the gas meter and the pump we went Our eyes rested on empty shelves which once had bulged like Pharaoh’s granaries in the fat years. Ah, we were coming to the end of our quest! To be or not to be — were we to pass the Sunday in the Joy . of gustatorial pleasures or pine away because of things that were but are no longer? Slowly we pulled out Jar after Jar, lest by some chance one had been misplaced. But it was no use. The last jar of home-raised, homecanned tomatoes had been eaten! —Indianapolis News.