Judge — November 20, 1915 — page 8: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

I™ THANKFUL that my lot is cast in modern times, not in the past. It’s strange that our forefathers rude could know such thing as gratitude; their lives were cold and bare and stern, and they had griefs and woes to burn. They toiled like brothers to the ox, a seldom saw a roll of rocks, Yet they were morc devout, by far, methinks, than their descendants are. Well I recall my Uncle Joe, with whom I lived long years ago. The only volume in his shack was some pillmaker’s almanac. I read that thing by candle light, on many a howling winter night, till Uncle Joe would say, “ My lad, this reading for your eyes is bad; it’s getting late—you'd better cease—and then you're wasting candle grease!" The modern, helpful tUephone, in those old days was all unknown; and if you'd with a neighbor talk, you’d don your cowhide boots and walk, perhaps a mile, and maybe ten, and then you'd waddle home again. Of course there was no rural mail, and all the news you got was stale. The weekly paper, when it came, had mold like cheese, upon its frame, and women never heard of styles until they were.a thousand miles behind the times, and then some more; oh, such was life in days of yore! No motors then made merry chugs, but farmers drove their spavined plugs along the muddy townward way; they started young, and came home gray. No phonographs recalled the band, or sprung Caruso second-hand, or Murray singing through his nose, or sad, denatured ministrel shows. But people sat around the fire, the toilers worthy of their hire, and smoked until the air was blue, and told old tales that Noah knew. Ah, life was dull and stupid then, but thankful were the souls of men, for all the blessings they enjoyed—life seemed to them no aching void. Now we have luxuries galore, and every day is bringing more. The king of fifty years ago, in all his splendor, didn’t know as much of comfort as the jay who’s earning now three bones a , More solid comforts now appear in home of clerk or auctioneer than good Queen Bess could ever buy, in those brave days Forestry Notes MBUSHES grow better when planted in trenches. Weeping willows should be set out in tiers. Hall trees bear more heavily in the fall, if planted near the front door where the children can get at them readily. The White House lawn recently re- moved its pines and set out spruces. In other words, pining has given way to sprucing up. “Great oaks from little acorns grow,” but they're nothing to the great aches that grow from little toce-corns. Most of the chestnuts are dying out from a pest, but the mother-in-law joke still springs occasionally, from another kind of pest. It is considered a highly appropriate thing to plant rows of nut trees about insane asylums. Family trees must be planted deeply, but shoe-trees grow just as well if merely heeled in. ‘ Family trees of wealthy people are usually recognizable by the lopping off of the lower branches. A well-kept avenue of birches is considered correct for the approach to a schoolhouse. —Strickland Gillilan. The Way It Goes ITTLE children who are permitted to look at a tarantula in a bottle are expected to gain some valuable lesson from the gruesome sight, although nobody knows just what that lesson is. A good many of the models and horrible examples that are held up before the rest of us are of just as vague value. Indirect Service “Brown's house is like a vault.” “Heating plant Brown put in is not good, but serves its purpose.” “How—?” “Oh, when it gets too chilly, Brown and Mrs. B. get into a heated discussion.” long scampered by. Solet us, as we carve the fowl, the turkey, peacock, goose or owl, be thankful for the good we know— the things undreamed of long ago. a THANKSGIVING» MORNING The unavailable gift arrives from her parents in the country.