People's Pilot, Volume 6, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 October 1896 — “LOWEST YET FOR CORN.” [ARTICLE]

“LOWEST YET FOR CORN.”

festerday when work was over, And the evening closing down. Heading through the evening paper ‘ News of country and of town. Glancing at commercial columns To learn how trade had ruled since morn, I saw, in striking type, a headline Reading: “Lowest yet for corn!” “Lowest yet for corn!” What of it? Surely, nothing new to hear; Every week tells the same story, Month by month and year by year. “Lowest yet for corn!" Consider— Though the story may be old— There are those who have to suffer i Every time the tale is told. Every time the tale’s repeated Unto ears well-nigh forlorn Some surviving hope’s defeated, Hearing: “Lowest yet for corn.” But I fancy some are saying: I “It is safe at all events; Safe to say Chicago market Won’t go under twenty cents; When those fearless speculators See the chance before them here They’ll become bold operators”— And—“ There’s nothing left to fear." 1 We have heard some such assertion Bravely made from year to year; “Lower than this last quotation, There Is nothing left to fear.” “Nothing left to fear!” Where ara they? Who are left with strength to cope With this ever-downward pressure? No! There’s nothing left to hope! Nothing left to hope; if wisdom Has not yet the lesson taught, By the striking down of silver Has the wretched wreck been wrought. Nothing left to hope! Remember! Back in eighteen seventy-three Gold and silver both sustained us, i 1 Silver coinage then was free. , 1 Unrestrained each noble metal i f Aided all the works of man, Each in turn relieved the other On the bimetallic plan. . " Only once or twice this nation 1 Had endured a panic’s sway, Now, like any poor relation, Panic comes full-dressed to stay! Dismal periods of depression, Disappointment on all hands. See us raise in sad succession Half-priced crops on mortgage® lands. Half-priced crops, which in the Leave such small rewards to toil, Sorrow quarters in the dwelling Of the tiller of the soil. Cunning tricksters said though silver Had been been king in days of yore, Now its royal reign was ended, It should be free-coined no more. Thus by tricks that treason played us. Stiver’s coinage rights were sold; And the crime’s results have made us Slaves to Europe and to gold. Patiently till now we’ve borne it, But the outlook growing worse, Love of country! Love of freedom! Call us now to end the curse. We have got a heaven-selected Champion by God’s good grace, Bryan—by our votes elected— To the nation’s highest place. Bryan, and our silver treasure, Free-coined dollars' bright as mom, Banish sorrow! Welcome pleasure! Banish “Lowest yet for CornL’ H. de B.