Jasper County Democrat, Volume 20, Number 98, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 March 1918 — Short Furrows [ARTICLE]

Short Furrows

"Abe Martin" in Indianapolis News. “I don’t jest know how t’ say what I want t’ say, an’ I don’t want t’ say what I think I ought t’ Bay, but I feel that what I’m goin’ t’ try t’ say should be said,” declared th’ venerable Rev. Wiley Tanger, at a knittin’ bee at Melodeon Uall Friday afternoon. An' he continued, his voice carryin’ almost t’ th’ barber shop across th’ street: “Our army is filled with all kinds o’ boys. Those who volunteered when our country declared war on th’ detestable Huns are soldiers because they want t’ be. They are from ever’ walk in life—from good homes an’ poor homes an’ no homes. Our drafted soldiers have been lifted from ever’ sort o’ environment. Many were kept from volunteerin’ by mothers an’ fathers an’ sweethearts. Others did not ♦ volunteer because army life did not appeal t’ ’em. But ther all patriotic an’ they’ll give a good account o’ themselves. Th’ government is doin’ ever’thing in its power t’ make our army th’ best looked after fightin’ force in th’ world, an’ th’ folks left behind want t’ do an’ are tryin’ t’ do ever’thing in th’ world t’ make ever’ soldier boy feel that ther hearts are with him. Our whole nation is one vast workshop bent on supplyjn’ him with ever’thing necessary for his comfort an’ safety from th’ cheapest cigarette t’ th’ most effective arms in th’ world. Now then, I want t’ caution th’ mothers an’ fathers an’ wives an’ sweethearts any- friends o’ th’ soldier boys. Don’t write sad, discouragin’ an’ sobbin’ letters t’ ’em. It has been well said by some writer that a weak, whimperin’, tear stained missive t’ an American soldier wounds him as effectively as a Prussian missle. I want ever’ soldier’s mother t’ remember that her son has gone forth t’ take a man’s part in ‘th’ crownin’ spiritual adventure of th’ ages,’ an’ th’ chances that he’ll return alive are ninety-four t’ one hundred. Mother, write nice, long homey letters t’ your soldier son. No matter how your heart is tern, tell him that you are glad your boy has enlisted in th’ defense o’ civilization—of womanhood an’ little children. Tel! him Jim Mason's boy that wuz exempted ’cause he had business aspirations, passes th’ house ever’ day lookin’ like a sheep kiJ n' dog. Tell him a service flag with one star hangs in th’ bay window that all may see ' that her boy is no slacker. Father, write t’ your son an’ tell him how fine it makes you feel t’ have your boy fightin’ fer humanity. Tell him your car won t run an’ that you’ve decided to junk it. Tell him its dull downtown an’ that ever’buddy you meet asks about him. Tell him you an’ his mother are plannin’ great things when he returns. Send him some cigarettes# good ones, an’ tell him not t’ inhale ’em, but t’ smoke ’em like a man. Tell him he has th’ family honor in his keepin’ an’ that you know he’ll take good care o’ it. Chums, write t’ your ole pal an’ tell him you’re jealous of him, an’ how ‘out of it’ you feel. Tell him how you envy him when you think o’ th’ wonderful experience he’s havin’. Tell him how hard it is t’ git on in civilian clothes these days —that you imagine ever’buddy wonders why you: re not in the ■irniy. Wife or sweetheart, or both, write t’ th’ idol o’ your heart an’ tell him hoW your love grows as th’ time since last you met lengthens. Tell him how you’re workin’ t’ help win th’ war. Tell him how you’re conservin’ an’ knittin’ an’ how your heart swells with pride ever’ time you lift a graham gem out o’ th’ oven or take up a half finished sock. Tell him th’ dashin’ clerk that married th’ triflin’ trimmer t’ keep from bein’ drafted is breakin’ his neck t’ git in th’ heavy artillery. I thank you.”