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Show THE FOOL KILLERS. A gentleman says: The fool killer kill-er is getting in his work in various ways, and the fools are really passing pass-ing away. The breed is running out. Take a walk through any of the cemeteries through t the country and you will believe with us that the fools are slowly but surely passing pas-sing away. You pass the last resting rest-ing place of the man who blew into an empty gun, the modest tombstone tomb-stone of the hired girl who lighted the fire with gasoline, the grass-car grass-car pc ted mound that covers the boy who took the mule by the tail. The tall monument of the man who didn't Know it was loaded overshadowing the dugout of the man who jumped lrom the train to save a ten-rod walk. Side by side lay the ethcrial creature who al ways kept her corset laced up to the last holt;, and the intellectual idiot who rode a bicycle nine miles in ten minutes. Here reposes ttie young doctor who took a dose of his own medicine and the old f')ol who ma-ried a young wife. Yonder in the northwest corner the breezes I sigli through the weeping willow j that bends over the lowly bed where lies the fellow who told his tnother-in-liiw she lied. Down there in the potter's field with his feet sticking out to the cold blasts of winter and the blistering rays of Die summer sun is stretched all the earthly remains of the misguided mis-guided regular who tried to lick the editor, while the bones of the man who would not pay for his paper are piled up in the comer of the fence. Over by the gate repose , the remains of the misguided boy who went swimming on Sunday and the old woman who kept baking bak-ing powder side by side with strychnine strych-nine in the cupboard. Tho fool-killer fool-killer still gathers them in one by one, and by and by we will have a pretty decent world to live in. |