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Show if 1 Rippling' I Rhymes By WALT MASON. jl t THE POPULAR GAME. Every one is profiteering, every one lis profit-struck; no one's pleased un-' ! less he's clearing ninety cents on ev-jcry ev-jcry buck. I would buy myself some clothing something shelf-worn would I stiff Ice but my soul is filled with i loathing when I contemplate the price. I I would buy a slab. of bacon, bu. the man who Fells the same by his con-I con-I science is forsaken, and his prices are a f,hame. I would like to paint niy h., !u Jvhose appearance is a frost, du' the burning words of Dante can" to justice to the cost. Now and then S3 a questing for the reason fox this craze; and the blame is alwavs resting n ?u,me distant nameless javs. Oh. tho blame is n.ever local, it is always most remote; and each man, profanely vocal says some others get his goaj. ain is all our loud resistance to the graa that makes us sick; always in the hazy distance are the knaves who do the tnek. Always in elusive shadow shad-ow it, the profiteering group, which has found its El Dorado, while ron-sui..ers ron-sui..ers find their soup. Far away thc robbers- shameless who harpoon us through and through; and vour merchant mer-chant prince Is blameless he gels stung rss well as vou. |