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Show Imp! xupola TT SKETCHEr if v Byi?0N VMLiJAna Life In tho Country. Wo havo boon out In tho country nguin to pet tho wabbly calf nnd wntcU tho nugry Uttlo boo guthcr moro honey. Wo left "the busy mart" ono morning Just nt day break when tho smells of a great city wore shedding tholr bilious odor on a dyspeptic air. Wo left tho city not becnuso wo couldn't tnk It with us, but because wo didn't wnnt It along. Wo nro particular about our company whon wo go whoro wo might fool ashamed of oursolf and wo went to tho country. Wo wcro born in tho country and adopted tho city becnuso tho city wouldn't adopt us. Inasmuch as blood is thicker than wator, wo llko God's country best. Thnt Is why, whon wo get nil gummed up In tno cerebral region, wo hurry away to tho land ot our nativity tho freo, unbridled country! Not thnt wo have over hankered for a farmer's llfo, our dtvlno afflatus and a disproportionate contral statuary stat-uary that bothers us when wo put on our shoos, forbidding; but wo havo often drenmod of boing a gontloman farmer. In our mind's eyo wo ha-.o flitted from flower to flower on tho rarm, scratching tho pigs with a cob, reeling now horns sprouting on tho Infantile rams, salting tho now kittens, kit-tens, haltering tho turkoy gobbler, gathering tho eggs whoro tho horses havo failed to oat them, snaring gophers goph-ers from post holos, teaching tho dog to blto book-ngonts, fighting tho chinch hups and tho Jersoy cow out of tho wheat field, taking skimmed milk to Uie village, bragging about our horses and how near lightning camo to hitting hit-ting our barn! Up to our recent visit this was our drean of tho farm. Now wo know wo havo boon decolvod. All farmers of to day aro gontlomon farmers, and Just as soon as wo can find a farmer fool onough to swap places with us wo aro going out Into tho rural districts to .cat greon corn off tho cob and bo happy tho' married. Wo woro mot in "tho Uttlo country town" by tho farmer. After getting n shavo and offering In payment a bill to big noither tho barber nor wo could change It, ho bought somo good cigars ci-gars and said he was ready. It was a glorious morning. In tho air thoro was no ossonco of redolent cafatcrlas, no ancient nlley-stench, no slop-wagon fetor only tno sweet in-conso in-conso of meadow nnd field. At tho farm homo tho grass In tho front yard was clipped with a lawn mowor, thoro wcro a hammock and easy chairs. Tho dinner was a dream. Tho farmer spont tho day enjoying htmsolf whllo tho hired help did the work. Thoro woro yot two picnics and a solo to nttond that weolc Ho went to all three. Wo havo always contondod thnt while tho farmor fcods us all ho usually usual-ly koeps tho best for his own lordor. There is a huge overgrown boliof in town that a farmor skimps his own tablo to carry food-stuffs to market. Perish tho orror; tho farmer has fresh eggs and vegetables, tho yellow-logged yellow-logged chlckons cavort about his legs and tho nppl03 In his orchard are as ruddy-hued as tho chooks of his protty daughters. His mail is delivered at his door, ho has a telophono and takos forty-'lovon periodicals which ho reads boforo passing them to that bourno from which newspapers nover roturn. His llfo Is not Ideal, but it has a leaning that way. Don't pity tho farmor; savo your sympathy for tho town slavo. A Green Cucumber. Wo havo been thinking wo would wrlto a poom on what a groou cucumber cucum-ber does to a man, but wo could only think of ono lino; "Oh, what tho groon cucumber doo3 to a man Is a plonty!" That was plonty for tho man, but not enough fora poem, so wo smoked on In sllonco nnd decided thnt what f. green cucumber 1I003 to a man could not bo told In vorso. Thoroforo, wo began to wrlto in proso. Aftor Ailing soventoon pages with tho worst lot of Htomachachos on record, wo doclded what a green cucumber doos to a man Is so much that It cannot oven bo told In proso. Wo thon trlod crowding It Into both proso and poetry, but gavo it up at last, deciding to leavo this sign for your porusal: :If you would bo woll sorvod,; : Servo yoursoh. ; Aflorsorvihg yourself you will know all about whnt a green cucumber does to a man. Then ou may wrlto jour own thosls on "Stomachaches I Havo Had." or "What tho Groon Cucunibor Did to Mo Whon I Wasn't Looking.'" For tho best doscilptlou of n cucumber cucum-ber contortion in its aetlye btato, wo will glvo tino pair of brass coOJu-hnndlos, coOJu-hnndlos, warranted to fit, Write sarly nnd nyjld crowdln-. SSI |