Jasper County Democrat, Volume 18, Number 71, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 December 1915 — Short Furrows [ARTICLE]

Short Furrows

“Abe Martin" in Indianapolis News.

Th’ limit has certainly been reached in this country when it comes t’ novel, varied, ingenious, unique, darin’, irrisistible, plausible, allurin’, impellin’, temptin’, seductive an’ entcin’ schemes whereby we’re separated from our money. We’re approached at our desks an’ buttonholed in th’ streets; we’re touched o’er th’ phone an’ cornered at th’ club; we’re buncoed by mail an’ trimmed at our work; we’re solicit ed at our front door an importunea at our back door; we’re hypnotized by th’ magazine ads, while th’ business announcements in th’ family newspapers all but lead us by th’ nose t’ th’ shops o’ th’ advertisers. Ever’where we go is th’ tireless solicitor or th’ glib promoter; ever’where we look is th’ irresistible magazine or newspaper ad, or th’ glarin’ billboard. Then t’ disturb th’ peace an’ qtiiet o’ th’ home comes th’ convincin’ circular or th’ cunnin’ mail order catalog. This is th’ age o’ business publicity an’ heart t’ heart solicitin’, an’ th’ feller that’s got a dollar is sure t’ git separated from if, sooner or later. No human bein’ is constituted f withstand th’ sizzlin’ bombardment that is trained on his pocketbook these days*, Th’ artistic pictures an’ th’ fine wordin’ o’ th’ modern ads are too much fer us an’ we’re seized with new longin’s an’ new ambitions. We resign our position an’ buy a small farm. We want F trade our grocery fer a nickel theater. We want t’ raise chickens or grapefruit. We want t’ go west an’ we want t’ go south. We want a music box an’ we want a velour hat. We want father’s picture enlarged an’ we want a sleepin’ porch, We want a vacuum cleaner an’ we want, our tonsils removed. We want to be an’ author an’ We want t’ raise apples. We want V raise Angora goats an’ we would like t’ tackle some minin’ stock if we wuzn’ afraid. An' so it goes. Ever’buddy you meet is figurin’ on doin' somethin’ or buyin’ somethin’ he has seen advertises. Then as winter approaches th’ great charity dragnets are thrown ‘out an’ we’re approached front ever’ angle t’ come t’ th’ relief o’ th’ sufferin’ poor. . Ever’buddy who has reaped a fair measure o’ prosperity should cheerfully give a portion o' his! earnin’s t’ th’ worthy poor. Howevex there’s a growin’ suspicion that th’ great winter army o’ destitute people is out o’ all proportion t’ th’ summer opportunities fer preparedness—that there's entirely too many strong, middle-aged people who sing all summer an’ dream o’ tn’ dear ole winter time, when a kind an’ indulgent public ’U provide ther’ coal an’ food—too many men with families who specialize an’ refuse t’ work at anything that comes along. Folks who run ther legs off all summer tryin' t’ find somebuddy t’ do a little spadin’, or lawnmowin’, or wasliin’, don’t feel as charitably inclined in the fall as they might, but o’ course, th’ solicitors fer th’ various charities don’t know nothin’ about that. So while we’re shellin’ out so lavishly fer ever’thing else let’s give a little t’ charity. Where his next dollar is coinin’ from don’t worry th’ average family man near as much as where ip’s gcir.\

WALT MASON The Poet Philosopher We have much reason to be grateful, 'since there’s no warfare, grim and hateful, within this smiling country’s borders; we slay not at some marshall’s orders. In Europe men are now preparing for months of freezing and despairing; they’ll spend the winter in the trenches, while foes, with guns and monkey wrenches, make daily efforts to dislodge them, and they’ll be too blamed cold to dodge them. Oh, when you’re seated in your rocker, with trusty pipe and shilling shocker, with peace and comfort all around you, think how your trans-Atlantic cousins are being shot up by the dozens. There are no comforts in the trenches; no rocking chairs or padded benches; there are no sprightly evening papers, to tell the latest football capers. The men must stand in muddy water, and wield the musket and the swatter, and shiver in the biting blizzard, which freezes them from nose to gizzard. Oh, think of that while you are rocking before the fire, and blithely talking of White House brides and income taxes—think of the swords and battle-axes!

Help Your Liver—lt Pays. When your liver gets torpid and your stomach acts jjueer, take Dr. King’s New L)fe Piiis and you will find yourself feeling better. They purify the blood, give you freedom from constipaiton, biliousness, dizziness and indigestion. You feel fine Just like you want to feel. Clear the complexion too. 25c at druggists.—Advt.