Rensselaer Republican, Volume 21, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 September 1888 — ANANIAS OUTDONE. [ARTICLE]

ANANIAS OUTDONE.

i An Old Farmer’s Yarn Causes a Lin 11 on the Fishermen's Bench. Harper’s Magazine. ( East of Newport, and all within sound Of the guns that boom how and then, may be found a delightful resort dear especially to the bass fishermen and the lovers of repose. The long summer nap may be relieved only by the bleat of a calf, the tune of the rooster or the lies of the fishermen. Against the corn-crib of the primitive boarding-house stands a long, low bench, known for many years as the “Liars’ Retreat,” where varns are i spun that w r ould shame the most elegant prevaricator and obscure a midday sun. One day a deep lull fell on the fishermen’s bench. Some one had caught a bass before dinner that fouled the anchor rope, and dragged boat, anchor and every thing three miles against wind and tide, with the boat’s nose so far under water that the man had to climb haM-way ud the mast to bail her out. The field for bass stories grew suddenly circumscribed, so the conversation drifted. “What is the effect,” asked the writer,' in a general way, “of the salt grass around here on cattle, milk, etc?” “Waal,” said the old farmer present, whose stock all fed on salt grass, “you wouldn’t s’pose ’twould have’s much as it does; but I’ve been makin’ tons an’ tons o’ butter for the las’ forty years, an I never had to use a pint o’ salt in it in my life.” The fishermen all looked up. “An’ what’s more,” continued the Yankee, “I can always slaughter my eattle, cut ’em up jes as they air into corned-beef, and sell it, as I’ve ben a-doing for years an’ years.” When flie writer came to, only the farmer and himself were on the bench. The fishermen were down on the rocks, butting their heads against the cliff. “B’gosh!” said the farmer, shutting up his jack-knife and moving off, “them city fishermen can’t stuff enny of their darn nonsense down my throat!”