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Show "WE WONDER WHO IT CAN BE." "The Hidden Hand," says the San Pete Grower, doubtless cjiitaineJ an ace full." "I would not live forever," begins an autumnal poet in an inspiring ballad iys the San Pei Growler. No, Susan we do n it think you would, it you delivered deliv-ered your poems iti person instead of bv mail." Say the melancholy editor of the Sail Pete Giowler. "Marriage is the nightmare night-mare ol love. Truth hides behind the mask of doubt. Liars live and honet men perish. The fool waxes lat and the teamed man runs an accutint at the cor net iroi ery. Uj uh slurpen his sickle on tliewU? stone ol inlelligenceand cm down the s alesman and scholar, but the dude lives on to djtaf e i"i the wrnd of years ..uBo through the whiskers 1 1 the chump-iu-a-sasli JJfe i to uneven. I But death is level. It is always the same when it comes. The box may be maliog-ony maliog-ony t miy be pine, but it matters little wlvch, When the evening shadows lall the weary tcnler lall asleep beneath the silent stars. All of which causes us to reflect that if some of the ducks who are back two or three years on subscription don't get a hustle on themselves and hd- pear before our tribunal and s uare up, we will give the recording amy I an all-hied all-hied b is task of erasing signatuies Irom the book of lile and and rid this community com-munity of a set ol perpetual dead-bexts and dead-heads. In the language of a long gone-by poet, 'We have spoke,' and we never speak twice. "--S, L. Tim;s. |