Jasper County Democrat, Volume 16, Number 95, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 February 1914 — GANDERBONE’S FORECAST. [ARTICLE]

GANDERBONE’S FORECAST.

MARCH. John Rockefeller, past amends, Was calmly raking dividends. The increment from Standard Oil Responded nicely to his toil. Said John. “I like this sort of thing: It’s good to be a money king. “It has its drawbacks here and there, But on the whole the sport is fair.” The income tax collector slowed His motor cycle in the road. He watched the money king a while, And then approaching him with a smile. “Friend John,” said he, in manner mild; “Your income statement —is it filed?” John Rockefeller turned around And cleared the meadow with a bound. Nor did he falter in his pace Till he was in his hiding place. “Great Scott” he said, and mopped his brow; “How many taxes are there now?”

March gets its name from Mars, the god of war, and in the old Roman calendar it was the first month of the year. One of the most unique and terrible controversies in history raged over its availability for that purpose from the time of Numa, in the seventh century before 'Christ, to that of Caesar. Just before Numa came to -the throne the Roman senate passed a law prohibiting spring duck shooting. Numa, who was a duck shooter and had one of the best

blinds in the Pontine Marsh, nullified the law by beginning the year in! March and throwing spring over to the heated season, when the ducks had gone north. The game protectionists made a stubborn resistance, but they were defeated at Bologna and driven hack beyond the Rubicon. Duck shooters held the fort successfully until Ceasar, who restored March as the first hionth of spring and began draining the Pontine Marsh for agricultural purposes. Caesar had no patience with duck shooting. He was subject to fits, and he found that whenever a bunch of ducks canie to his decoys and he didn’t get any, he always had a particularly hard fit. This prejudiced him against the sport, and he tried to ruin it. He was promptly assassinated by Brutus and other duck shooters, but he was very popular, and the calendar remains to this day exactly as he left it.

The pall of Lent shall fall upon The tango and the minuet, And in the bliss of winter gone The colt shall turn a somerset. The wind shall make the weather vane Erode a groove around the stick, The equinoctial hurricane Shall push the mortar through the brick. The democrats shall chase the trusts Through trackless deserts of debate, And in the hope that Huerta busts The government shall watch and wait.

We are not doing quite so well as it the army should intrude, but still are satisfied to shell the palace with our attitude. The big, round shot of what we think invade the windows and the doers; they perforate the kitchen sink and make dilapidate the floors. They fire the sheets in Huerta’s bed until he gets but little rest, they hit the house cat on the head and knock the china galley west; they spit and splutter in the soup, and overturn the royal wine; they ipake the household loop the loop and knock the fig leaf from the vine; they multilate the royal purse and render hazardous a meal, and are in deed a great deal worse than if we fashioned them of steel. The psychic missiles we project at tyranny behind its wall are far more lasting in effect than any real cannonball. Behind the one are nothing more than powder flashing in the

pan, the darkness that has gone before, the base brutality of man. The wall may fall, the tyrant dip, and evil still may be intact; btit let the world’s opinion fly, and see the difference in fact. Behind that sort of shot are all the progress humankind has made, the better triumphs great and small, the hosts of conscience unafraid. Those unseen shot are very strange to neighbor Huerta and his kind; we always seem to have the range, no matter what they get behind. Our gunners labor day and night, they never seem to tire and quit; they always take the proper sight, and never fail to score a hit. They keep the place in such a plight as never place was kept before; one can’t put out the cat at night but twenty shells pop in the door; the thing that fills Huerta with disgust —he doesn’t sabe psychic metal; and when he quits he’ll put up dust as high as Popocatepetl.

At any rate, the “Warning shot In trust reform shall rouse the fats, And milliners shall show us what The tariff cut has done for hats. The hen shall try to overcome The widespread dominance of prunes. The drys shall chase the demon rum Around the terrified saloons, The robin shall awake the morn With sweet apostrophes to day, The early daisy shall adorn The quiet spaces by the way, , The women folks shall shake the ground In hot pursuit of cigarettes, And the president shall hide around In deadly fear of suffragettes.

This is the spring we long have sought and mourned because we had it not. The sky is very soft and blue, the bobolink is bobbing through; the sadly desolated scene is turning beautiful green, and old King Winter and his men have given up the field again. There may be people here and there Who do not give a whoop outdoors; But let us hope, if we dare, That no such sentiments are yours. The festive calf, for spring revealed, goes castle walking up the field. The southern winds are soft and sweet, through watching out for snow and sleet. The meadowlark is on the mead with music suited to our need, and up the sky in wedged rows the wild goose musically goes. There may be someone made of stone Whose heart is dead to this display, But let us hope that like our own, Yours isn’t that kind, anyway.

The hired man, with spring’s advance, sheds seven extra pair of The fragrant mothball reappears, and poetry cocks up its ears. The bullfrog boometh by the lake, the old gray planet is awake, and dead things gambol from their vaults to do the hestitation waltz. There may, of course, be one or two Whose hearts do not go pit-a-pat; But we are confident that you Are no such wooden man as that.

March 4th will be the fist anniversary of Mr. Wilson’s inauguration as president. Grapejuice will he opened at the W hite House for visiting converts, and the day will tv. quietly but sincerely celebrated in M all street, the Mexican national palace and a few other places. Mr. Taft will give a tango tea at New Haien, and there will be indoor fireworks at Bull Moose headquarters in New York City. On March 21st the sun, which is moving north, will cross the equator, bringing in the spring equinox. This will positively make Huerta resign. It will also round up the few trusts that have not already come in and signed the pledge. ’

On March 10th the planet Mercury, which has been unable to do anything with the president on the suffrage question as an evening star, will become a morning star. The moon will be full on the 11th. The moon is working on the vice-presi-dent. After the 20th the month will be under the influence of Aries the Ram, the first sign of the zodiac, which succeeds Pisces the Fish. People born under the influence of Pisces, whose reign extends to March 21st, do almost all the fishing that is done. Grover Cleveland, who was born under this is an example. Those born under the influence of Aries, upon the other hand, are dreamers, and are too busy looking ahead to keep their eyes on a fish bob. Thomas Jefferson is an example. There will be a good deal of limousine weather during the month.

April with its sweet perfumes Shall wander up the breeze. To fill the world with cherry blooms Around the seven seas.