Local Laconics

Mr. and Mrs. J. A. Rudick, of Crawfish Prairie, were in to see the Republican force Monday..

A mad dog scare last week. Rudick's dog got crazy and had a fight with Akin's, Ray's and Sky's dogs and was killed by Sky's. Two other dogs that were bitten are dead.

The women folks say we told an awful lie about the skillet and lid business. If we hear much more we will tell all we know about the matter.

Crawfish Prairie

The “comet scare” is passed and this old ball is still rotating. What will be the next scare and who will be the fool to agitate it? One woman near Peoria went crazy over the comet. Such predictions should not be published unless facts are with them. Some say we are now in the climate of La [sic] and that the comet hit this old ball and knocked it around so that the north pole is south. Just about as sensible as the comet scare. We patiently wait to see what the next craze will be.

If ten thousand errors occur in our items this week, attribute the same to the comet. We were too badly “skeered” to write, and the effects of the scare are still visible and may last until some soothsayer gets up something else. One denomination is now preaching that the world will wind up its business in the year 2613. A bad number for it ends in 13 and is divisible by 13. Many converts are being made. The American people are easily humbugged. So look out for 2613 and excuse and pardon all our multitudinous errors.

Mrs. John Stout called on Mrs. Rudick on Friday.

The long wished for telephone line is coming at last. Will come from Seneca to Peoria and Lincolnville or Sunny Side. The material is being placed along the line. The line will leave Burkhart prairie near the Burrison place and pass through Hazel Green. This will aid the businessmen of Peoria and save them much needless expense and worry. One young man was heard to exclaim “I do believe I can learn to talk on the phone in two weeks.”

What if we did find ten thousand tooth picks in our dish, we taught some one why he hit the pepper box on the side. We had the promise that the tooth pick story would be kept quiet for awhile, but now Nip Holt, of East Galena, has found it out and we are in it for all time to come.

Hunters from the city, to act the part of gentlemen, will go to the owner and ask permission to hunt, - not drive up to the enclosure, tie up, leap into the fields with gun and dog and shoot at every thing that moves, and when the “owner” asks them to get out, get mad, chew the rag, go back to the city and tell that they ran into an old “greaser.” Our birds must have some protection and it must come from the farmer. To allow the game to go on at its present clip, means the total extinction of the quail. If the farmer who protects the game desires to get out and have a “little shoot” he finds that the city hunter has been there and no quail to be found. We are not writing this through any ill feeling, but for the protection of ourselves and our game. The Sunday sport has about come to an end and the every day trespasser must next be brought into submission. We have had a talk with a goodly number of farmers and they with one accord say this slaughtering of quail must cease at least by the city hunter. So when you come out to hunt, come out like a gentleman and never fire a gun until you get permission. A word to the wise is sufficient.

There is no excuse for ignorance and if you let old age catch you, you may go to your final resting place full of regrets. You can cite men without an education that get on in the world just as well as the man who has applied his time to the acquirement of knowledge. But hold on! If this individual had an education he might get on better. Go talk to the moles and bats with such frivolous nonsense. Remember that time is here when the rising generation will need to be better read, better posted, to compete with the battles of life than the aged ones now. Our age is an age of rush and hurry and you do not have time to dally a week or two to arrive at conclusions upon which to base your judgment. The older ones are soon to be called home and will you be prepared to assume the duties and responsibilities that will naturally fall on you? Be a hard student upon some problem of usefulness and shun to be a “drone” in the “hive” of true workers. Read some good book, some good history – something that emulates and builds character and be sure to shun trashy literature – such as “yellow back” stuff, so much circulated and read by our young men and women. Be a constant reader of some good newspaper, for as a factor in an education a good newspaper is hard to beat. You can say talk and advice is cheap, so it is. Go in the channels of idleness and end up your career a real ignoramus, or pull out of the ruts of ignorance and be a “bright and shining light” for “a city set upon a hill and can not be hid.” He who can follow advice is far superior to him who gives it. We repeat again, you are the great thing on earth and that mind of yours is the only great thing in you. Guide it so as to obtain the best results.

F. L. Gilmore was a pleasant caller Sunday.

Elgin Saulsbury and Jess Richards had business in Baxter Saturday.

Harry Crawfish and wife of Lincolnville visited Emil Johnson and family Saturday.

John C. Burrows left Saturday for San Francisco to serve four years in the United States Navy. We wish the boy success and hope he will return a much better and wiser boy.

L. Richey and wife had business in Baxter Saturday.

Antoine Greenback and family were Baxter visitors Saturday

Wm. Cox had business in Baxter today.

It is a sight to see Charley Wade plow.

Charles Gilmore was looking after business in Baxter Saturday.

Bud and Sam Inman were Galena callers Saturday.

Ora Standsbury came down from 10 A. C. Prairie last week.

Cal McDonald went to Lowell Friday to buy a horse.

Uncle Humphry Enyert went to Wyandotte last Tuesday on Business.

Jim Crabtree had business in Baxter Saturday.

D. B. Kirkpatrick is here visiting his brother, S. T. The two will leave in a few days for New Mexico.

What is wrong West Side? Come on, for we miss your items very much. We will agree to still “Miss” you until you're re-married. And 10 A. C. hurry up and get out your onion crop, so as to give us your news.

Mrs. E. C. Weilep and daughter Mrs. Freeman visited in Miami Saturday.

Statehood should induce our people to plant orchards, small fruit etc. and help to make our country what it should be. There is scarcely any fruit to be found and the matter ought to be talked and work begin immediately.

Miss Five Mile you experienced a very dry year – a year we well remember. The sun-parched earth, full of crevices and the air hot as an oven. You did not state on what part of the mundam sphere you were on during that dry period. Crawdad was out in the Long Cow Horn state west of the Cross Timber. People were on their knees in devout devotion, imploring rain. O! If we could have happened up at milk time and beheld you and your mother milking that legless cow. How did you manage anyway? As before stated we were in Texas and bore the cognomen of “Wandering John” or Pollywogism “Explained." After the aforesaid “Dry Time” we came back to Fort Worth and worked in the office of Capt. B. B. Paddock, editor of the Fort Worth Daily. Out where we were the country was scarcely settled and covered with tall grass, inhabited by snakes, lizzards, frogs and alligators. The dry weather was becoming unbearable. The lizzards ran so fast to reach the Gulf of Mexico that they set the grass on fire which added intensity to the heat accumulated. The fires spread and all creation seemed to be burning. The fire soon reached the western border where great herd of buffalo were struggling for existence. The buffaloes, together with “long horns” were completely cooked while on their feet. The rain came about this time and eased the pangs of the cattle and buffalo. A democratic president occupied the Chair at the White House and of course its country was flooded with tramps – a natural consequence after such elections. The dry times saved the cities and towns vast sums of money. The cooked buffaloes and big Texas steers ran into towns where tramps were wont to accumulate and the citizens placed knives and forks in the backs of the cooked animals, tied a number of loaves of bread on the back of the aforesaid cooked beasts, and they traveled up and down and across the land and when they met a tramp they would stop and let him eat a square meal and move on to feed the next. I'll tell you sister it was a trying drying Dry time, but what ails our Think Can is how you milked that legless cow. But there is one thing certain that we do know, that there is a Dryer Time comin.

Our Galena butcher says: “There are only a few hogs in the country – not enough to make a shipment and I don't have to pay Kansas City prices for hogs.” I am sorry such language was uttered by a Galena man. It is true hogs are scarce and worth more money than we get for them. If hogs on Kansas City are worth $5 the seller here should get $4.60 instead of $4. This same butcher claims he pays 10c for dressed beef in Kansas City, but can't afford to pay here on 6c. When hogs and cattle are high the butchers here won't quote Kansas City price when buying, but let them be low in Kansas City and then he will sing Kansas City prices to the tune of 500 and carry all parts. Where are the men who bought the scattering hogs and shipped to Kansas City and in doing so paid the raiser the Kansas City price less 40c. Galena should not and can not afford to act “skinny” in such deals – for the chances are out farmers might seek a market elsewhere where they can get right prices for their cattle and hogs.

Ere this is read by you Old Crawdad will pass another “mile stone” in life – gone over on the haw side. When we look back and see a life spent in something of no avail and what we could have been it makes us shudder. Too late to go over the road again, the only good we might do is in the Eternal Now and a slim chance for the future. O! Could we, with our present thoughts and ambitions go back and come up again. Young men take a lesson and take it now. Don't while your life away to no purpose. Shun enjoyments that begin and end in the same hour. Honor you father and mother and you will find you have spent a life worth living. Let your mark in life high and let your career be onward and upward.

Lem Richey drove to Peoria on the fourth for ice.

All had ice cream but Crawdad and he would have had some but there was no freezer, milk or ice on the place. We call it a clear miss but we are getting ready for the next glorious fourth in the year of A. D. 1909.

The yellow fighting jersey bull is dead, not to the sorrow but joy of all. A dreadful and dangerous beast is gone to the bovine kingdom.l.

Weather is real warm to the delight of the ice man.

Cattle continue to die. We need a vet in our midst to see if some of the cattle could be saved. Too many die.

A man from 10-a-c in Galena remarked: “If old Crawdad is not dead he ought to be.” Now if this fellow will bring back that meal he borrowed a few summers back, quit feeding our corn to that old sow and shoats while we are gone and get his wife some shoes to wear we are willing to die for all time to come. He must “square up” or we will never die.

J. H. Ruddy last week bought 120 acres of land near Anderson, in McDonald County, Mo.

S. J. Porter is at Nevada, Mo., this week. S. J. Has 160 acres of well improved land.

Mrs. James Ruddy and daughter, Mary, are in Weir City visiting this week.

When you see a man that is found at all hours of the day hanging around the stores whittling and chewing the political way put him down on your socialist book.

J. W. Lapsley had business in Baxter Saturday.

Ed McConkey had biz in Miami Friday and Saturday.

Chester Thrailkill of Indiana is here visiting Mr. And Mrs. Richey.

Jim Crabtree says the papers are saying there is going to be a bumper corn crop. Jim says its a lie for he has three acres that won't make a thing.

Mrs. June Thompson called on Mrs. Rudick Friday.

To get the news read the Republican.

The republicans are going to make a hard fight to elect a representative of Ottawa county to Guthrie in November. The battle is between Dr. Holmes of Ottawa and George Bigham of Miami. The democrats can hardly elect the Doctor. If they had put Ed Weilep they might have had some show but as the matter stands now, the republicans are sure to win.

The socialists claim we have them in the "pound" and they are helpless. They claim they are coming out an renovate the world. Generally, when an animal is in the "pound" he has to have a friend open the door and let him out. If they are in the pound they must stay there for there are none of them suitable to handle the affairs of a national nature. Just listen to their prattle, listen to their version of running a government. Are they not (wise in their own conceits) to be able to handle such vast machinery. Just wait until November then and there we will put a quietus on you for a few days. Your talk is an idle dream that does not bespeak a fertile brain. The whole gang appears to be made up of back yard refuse - could get nothing in the democratic or republican camp – got mad – went off and "jined" the socialists then proceeded to take the government apart and analyze it to their way of thinking. Poor deluded and benighted souls, groping in darkness and ignorance and speak but one word and that one word is PIE. O! What a hungry set, and the time will never be when we are invited to dine. Throw off your shackles and come home to a party that knows how, can and will do things.

A fellow by the name of Bud of Five Mile fame and a voter of the democratic ticket, is telling that Ed McConkey, Capt. Mayse and Crawdad are full pledged socialists. Something is goin' to happen when we meet mischief making and trouble creating to an elm-peeler of Five Mile. If he don't retract such statements we'll tell on him.

Frank McDonald and wife were the guests of Wm. Cox and wife Sunday.

What's the matter with the correspondents? They are so good here of late. Not a word do they say about Crawdad. I'm glad they are good, because it makes us good and leaves us in the hands, or at the mercy of political grunters.

Turn a hog out of the pen and the first hard work he does is to root the rest out. Turn a man out of church and he tries to get the whole flock out. Read one of a "party" and he imagines the whole world is out with him – was read out without cause – was in the wrong party to start with – forced to preach another doctrine and establish a party that will open all the avenues of work – all men be on equal floating – a set of happy mortals that has for a purpose to edenize the world – hang the robbers and rogues, throw gold and silver in the street and start the universe anew. Do you know who I have reference to? Don't eh? Come down in Ottawa county, Okla., and I'll show you one of those bipeds – a box whittler and a compound mixer of the d—l knows what.

There is a reward of $600 for the party who tampered with the ballot box business in Miami. We'll bet six bits that they are afraid to locate the guilty one. Something dead down the creek and trouble is ahead. Now to be plain about the matter, don't you democrats know who did the tampering? Why don't you go to the law? Aye, there's the rub.

Walter Crafton who is working with Johnson's thresher on West Side came over Sunday. He says wheat is not turning very good.

There is a demand for teams on the west side of the river in the hay fields. Yet there are men who claim the panic is still on and there is no work to be had. If a man wants work he can get it.

Ale Snyder is at work in the hay fields near Quapaw.

Did you notice the big ad of Wm. Aach & Co., in last week's issue? A visit to their up-to-date stores will convince you that it is a good place for bargains and honest dealing. When in Galena call and see them.

We notice the ad of Silverman also. He has something to sell and knows HOW to sell it.

Ruddy & Rudick are the champion yarn spinners. It is hard to tell who is in the lead. Both are monumental – well call it liars.

A feller said: "The prettiest girl I ever saw lived away down in Arkansas, and she sucked her cider through a straw. Soon it was cheek to cheek and jaw to jaw, sucking cider through a straw. Now I have a mother-in-law by sucking cider through a straw.”

While Mrs. Dave Porter was away from home some sneak thief stole her choice cabbage. Such low down trash should be run down and given a good sized dose of law – lead would be better.

The time is about here when the schools will be in running order. Superintendent J. T. Davis of Miami, informs us there is going to be a scarcity of teachers for the coming schools this fall..

We have in this paper some of best correspondents, that the writer and reader have ever enjoyed. The news comes in regularly for twenty miles in all directions, Oklahoma with two correspondents is a source of much pleasure and interest. Bro. Crawdad we need you in our business and we hope you will succeed in the work you are so adapted. You ought to be one of the leading reporters of the foremost daily papers of our county.....

As an occasional writer I want to say to all correspondents. Get in the collar "like Crawdad" he will have the Republican all over Oklahoma and Missouri.

Effie and Ruby Hutchinson returned to Wyandotte, Okla., school after a week's holiday spent with their mother.

J. A. Rudick, Crawdad, was in Galena Monday from near Peoria, and made the Republican office an appreciated call.

[Mrs. W. W. Hisaw is Demma Rudick, daughter of John's brother J. F. Rudick.]

“Twenty-one my dear boy” says the fond mother - “to-day you are your own man relying on your own resources and must henceforth fight your own battles.” The mother looks at the “man-boy” with delight, for he's the very picture of health, but while there is a sort of gladness in her mind there is a sort of sadness also, for away down deep in the recesses of her heart she wonders if the boy will be true to himself and “honor his father and mother that his days might be long upon this earth.” She conceals nothing from him for according to nature she can not. Her form is somewhat bent and the years are telling on her. Her own raven hair is silvering over, all for what? To get the bright eyed boy from infancy to “twenty-one.” Think of the many operations, hardships, and struggles to do so. Look at your father, my boy, he says but little, but he too has had his share of trouble to get you to the “twenty-one” mark. His hair is also intermingled with gray, working day and night that you might be a man. How much has it cost these two fond hearts to make you able to stand alone? Some have tried to compute the cost in dollars and cents, but the computation fails. All we know that it has cost much in the way of food, clothing, shelter and medical aid, to say nothing of the privations in life. All this debt young man you justly owe your father and mother. The debt is great and you are now expected to begin paying a little interest thereon. The father and mother does not charge you one cent for all this trouble and there is but one account against you in life and it is this: that you, anywhere and everywhere be a man.

Lost three months time canvassing; 1341 hours in thinking about the election; 5 acres of cotton; 12 acres of corn; one whole sweet potato patch; 7 shoats; one beef to barbecue; 2 front teeth and a quantity of hair harvested in a personal encounter.

Gave away: - 76 plugs of tobacco; 13 pairs suspenders; 7 dolls and 19 baby rattlers. Told 2983 lies; shook hands 41917 times; kissed 127 babies; built one kitchen fire; cut two cords of wood; carried 27 buckets of water; and was dog bit nine times. Loaned to my neighbor; 3 bbls flour, 58 bushels meal, 150 pounds bacon, 36 lbs of butter, 13 dozen eggs, three rain coats, 1 bible, 21 lbs of lard and six pairs of sox all of which never came back. Called my opponent a tabulated liar – Dr. bill $10, had five arguments with my wife, result: 1 flour vase smashed, 1 dish of hash knocked from the table, 2 handfuls of whiskers pulled out – 10c worth of sticking plaster and spent $107.39 in campaign. Received 4 votes, myself, father and two brothers.

If any of the present incumbents in office in Ottawa County are in the next race let them find consolation in the above itemized account.

Thursday Nov. 25th, marked another cycle of time with all. We were thankful and if so, how thankful? In looking back over the past year are our minds filled with regrets and sore disappointments? In this free land of plenty there are but few excuses for not having sufficient of this world's goods to keep us from want. With some the 25th was a sad day. With some it was a day of gladness and real Thanksgiving, some, had plenty in spite of themselves, some had plenty on account of their diligence and care of what they made and saved, some had plenty because some one else made what they have and it just came into their hands through a channel not directed by any effort upon their part. Some were happy and thankful because it was a part of their nature to be so – scattered light and sunshine into the hovels of destitution. Some were not thankful because they were in dire circumstances made so by their own shiftlessness and inattention to duty. Some were not happy because of the removal of some of their family, a near relative or a friend. Some were not happy, what they made was theirs according to law, was taken from them by the cunning craft of those who profit by such work. Some were not happy because it is not a part of their being to be so and where poverty and want were wont to dwell made it more so. Whether good or bad, kind or unkind, prosperous or otherwise will the last Thursday in November 1910, find us alive and ready to be thankful – willing to make the next cycle a more pleasant and enjoyable than the past. At present we are free from wars or rumors of wars, no famine or pestilence, permitted to worship Him who cares for us according to the dictates of our will, and no one dare molest or make afraid, protected by the strongest and best government of any nation or nations, with the flag of freedom waving o'er us, a people so full of patriotism to defend the same. Let the coming year be an improvement over the past in doing good, by helping those who need help and being happy because the Creator designed that we should Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise Him all “Creatures here below.”

The land sharks are getting a little bolder. When a man gets so low down in the scale of humanity that he has to undermine his neighbor to obtain a lease on a farm, it is time to rid the community of such individuals. To lie and misrepresent facts in order to get a hold means that if no one will lie and misrepresent, he'll DO the party he leases from if he can get a show. No wonder the buildings and fences all are in bad repair, for one does not know who is shoveling dirt from under his feet and will get orders to hike. One cannot afford to make improvements for their own comfort for the shark is silently at work, having no regard for your comfort or feelings. Present conditions must change, title of lands pass to different parties before this country can amount to much. But few farms are blessed with fruit trees of any kind. Our roads are in horrible shape for this country contains too many people that care nothing for humanity and the upbuilding of the country. Sharks are known and closely watched.

In one of the country schools down in – well it is there anyhow, the teacher one Friday when the visitors came in thot he'd “got it” a little extra. One of the pupils coming left the door partly open. The teacher said to the boy: “Go and shev that door shet.” He looked over the school and remarked: “You boys and gals sit up a little more erecter.” Then turning to the visitors said: “I try to teach them a little manners but it's durned hard up-hill work.” The board said he was a star teacher and just such school work has been going on ever since Adam was a boy.

Will the editor tell us when we can see the big long tailed comet. One writer says that on June 18th, the tail of the monster will reach from ocean to ocean and all reptiles and living creatures will perish, the heat being so intense that even man will die unless he has the proper house to prevent or ward off heat. Bud Inman says he'll get in Shoal Creek or in the ice in Galena. Men have been predicting from Adam to the present time, but a hog, or rooster or any kind of stock can beat man all to hollow of predictions of the weather. But when will we see the comet?

Christmas will soon be here – the winter dance come to life, the liquor houses receive their usual share of patronage and when the 25th of December rolls by the whole shooting match will join hand and go in for the “time of their life.” Frivolity and hilarity will be the order of the day. The real meaning of Xmas will be pushed to the background and lost in frolic and fun. Many do not even know why it is called Christmas and care less. The time will pass with its usual amount of fatalities – some going to the great Unknown.

Mrs. R. E. Mizer of Hornet, Mo. visited with her sister Mrs. Rudick from Friday till Sunday and will visit for some time with her daughter Mrs. J. N. Atkins north of Baxter.

Some complicated visiting went on here Sunday. Bert Buxton went to see Jim Crabtree, missed on the road Bert going to Dyson's and Jim to Price's, Sapp to Richey's, making a failure, turned went by home to another neighbor's, Richey's aimed to visit Crawdad, but Crawdad and wife had hiked out to visit J. W. Atkins northwest of Baxter. Sunday evening late they all met going home at Richey's and you never heard such a mixed up piece of visiting since Adam was a boy.

In western Okla., a fellow tells us they farm this way; at corn planting time the farmer hitches his team to a plow with planter attachments, starts west and keeps west till fall, then turns round and harvests back.

There is another dangerous movement coming to light, the accumulation of land. The small farmer will soon pass out of notice and be no more. This state of affairs need not molest the older ones of today to any great degree, but the rising generations will feel the sting of it. A man is of poor stuff is he cares only for the present. Our great and good men looked ahead down the lane of time and gave us warning. To be a good and upright citizen we must take some concern of the future for in the future will be the rising generation and some of our children will be in the number. There is also another tremendous waste going on in our midst daily, the destroying of the forests. Soon there will be a timber famine as well as a land famine. We may not live to see it but some of our children may. The human family is living too fast to live long. A halt should be called for the benefit of the future posterity.

Most every farm in this section is destitute of an orchard. The present lease system is mostly to blame for the orchardless and roadless plantations if such a name is applicable. Just over in Missouri and Kansas we find affairs different and most every farm is blessed with most kinds of fruit. How long will this people remain in perfect contentment, perfectly willing for things to be and remain as they are. The title of lands must pass to a more progressive class of farmers and land holders.

A splendid rain fell here on Saturday night and Sunday.......Sam West, carrier on route 4, stopped to talk with us about “certain things” and looking into the mail wagon we discovered a huge hoe – a mattock. We asked him if such was allowed to pass through the mails and he told us that the hoe was his property and that when a root or stump humped too high he stopped, took the hoe and “fixed” that root or stump. We tried to borrow that hoe but Sam said “no.” When we meet the other four carriers we'll peep into their wagons.

What about the bug and insect kingdom, are they going to destroy all vegetation from the face of the earth? Crows are already getting in their hateful work pulling up the young corn and eating holes in the watermelons. The farmers should make war on the crows the year round. In the last few days we've killed 10 young ones, five old ones and destroyed about one dozen nests and yet they are working on the corn. Kill every one you can at any old time and by any old way you can.

If we lose our rural routes now it would have been better not to have had them.

Star routes, or mail carried by bid contracts means cheap work, and cheap work means poor work. So keep the rural routes in operation – costing us a little more but giving us better service.

Good roads are an invitation to come among us; bad roads are huge signs to stay away. Which road do you live on?

Geo. J. Keenan has resigned as clerk of the school board in District one. Another hitch in getting the houses moved in time for school. There is and has been too much contrariness, (better call it cussedness) up here in the northeast corner of the county. Davis, the county superintendent, “sat” on Rudick during the first term of school here – the whole thing got in a muddle, is still in a muddle and will be in a muddle until there is a change. The people here got foxy and demanded two schools in the district where one was all it could maintain. To start off wrong the district was certainly too big and in a peculiar shape, making access to a center school rather hard for those living in the corners of the district. But the “crazy wheel” is on the wrong side front, wobbling through and over “hell's half acre” and some one is to blame. When we get Mrs. Talbot in and J. T. out, we may get the “crazy wheel” on right, the bearings all oiled, steam up and move on in a progressive way. Many are sending their children to Missouri and Kansas to school, thinking the matter will be, as in the past, no school. Who will be Keenan's successor is hard to conjecture.

A regular hog trading took place between Staton, Burrows, Rudick and Cowan. The trading at one pen got mixed and Staton says B. beat him, B. said R. beat him and C. said S. beat him. Three hogs and four men and each man got a hog and each man was skinned in the game. Figure for yourself.

Candidates are on the jump.

Oklahoma and Kansas going republican with Missouri thrown In.

Two weeks of our school is gone and all are well pleased.

John Armstrong has a new roof on his kitchen.

Outing flannels and flanneletts kimona cloth at L. Baum D. G. Co.

O. L. Rider, our republican nominee for District Judge, spoke at Peoria on Saturday night, Oct. 8. He is a fluent speaker and gave evidence of a clear understanding of the law and the dutys of the Judges in conducting courts. S. Thompson, candidate for county Judge gave a short forcible talk.

Are the democrats out of soap in Kansas as they are compelled to go to a republican paper to get their stuff in print.

New fall dress good correct colors and fabrics at the right price at L. Baum D. G. Co.

Say, you Military Road Man, your voice sounds familiar and we are sure we met you once if not more on the hills and waters of Five Mile, when you sojourned for a number of years, went away from Daddy and landed over in Kansas, then plunged into correspondence under the Captain of Military roads, took a shot at Crawdad and missed. Trim your pencil and shoot again – shoot at the little girl correspondent away up on Five Mile in the northeast corner of the county. Don't go foolin' 'round the water until you learn to swim.

Crabtree's Jim has a veritable pen of live possums - “gettin' ready for Thanksgiving,” says Jim.

In the house are about a dozen almanacs all telling about weather and no two of them tell it alike. Sometimes one of them makes a real good guess about weather conditions and the people hail him as a wise prophet and are sure to ask for his predictions ever afterward. An old Rooster, an old sow and an old owl are real good prognosticators of the weather.

We learn that J. K. Wingert of Galena has bought 200 acres from Cora-Adams-Cockerel who lives at McGrew, Ark., and is an allottee of the Quapaws.

The first day of March is skeedaddling here, as that is the time most farm leases expire. One seldom stays on a place longer than three years, some one year and we know that Bud Inman moved here and did not unload his wagon. Bud, it is claimed, has moved sixty nine times in fifteen years and Lem Richey 29. If anyone has a better moving record let them speak right up in meetin'.

According to signs “Never failing” we expect to hear the chime of wedding bells. Things are looking awful “Sweet” and if there is not something to “sour” intentions we may be guessing right. Predictions: If many get married this spring look out for a bad crop year.

Gilmore-Burrows

On March 2, Miss Alta Gilmore and William T. Burrows were united in marriage by Judge Rudick. At the hour of 11:36 p.m. the contracting parties arrived and calling for the Judge to arouse from his slumber to say the words to make them one.

Hattie Pinkerton of Peoria places her name in the 1911 column. Also S. S. Rudick of Crane, Mo., will also read the Republican the next twelve months.

J. A. Rudick of Lick Prairie called on the Fix-um man last Saturday to “swap lies” and other things.

[S. S. Rudick is John's brother, Stephen Sherman Rudick]

Relieved by Death

Mrs. Josie E. Hutchinson, for a long time a sufferer from cancer, died at her rooms in this city on last Sunday morning about 6 o'clock.

Deceased was a daughter of John A. Rudick, living out on Route-4, and was a very good woman. She leaves two children to mourn her death.

One time when Edison was a mere youth, in poor raiment the wires in war times would not work. Thomas came in and all eyes were on him as he tinkered with the wires and keys. A message from the other end of the wire asked: “Who in thunder is at the other end of the wire? He's a good one.” The wires worked and Edison was the one who knew what was the matter and how to remedy it. How many have tried to be an Edison and failed? Don't try to be an Edison for you cannot unless you are of his type. Most any one thinks they could be a Crawdad, but you cannot any more than Crawdad could be a Peach Orchard or a Quaker Valley. Boy if the stuff is in you you'll go and if it is not you'll remain where you are. But be ambitious in life though you make a failure.

Some of you may pounce upon us and say we are a fatalist. Call it fatalism if you wish or call it foreordination or predestination. About one out of every thousand gets to the top of the ladder and drinks draughts that the common millions might have drank then dies of thirst because there was no more to drink. Then if so many are eagerly working for the coveted prize and one in a thousand reaches the goal what is the matter? Sir, if the stuff is not in you and you simply can't become some other great man. No one can be a Dr. Bulgin unless the stuff is in him and so on up and down the ladder of life. Boys you may never be great, but you can be truthful, industrious, sober, honest, decent and intellectual in this life. We say again be content with your station in life, polishing the same so as to make it shine all it will, but never no never try to be the other fellow.

We take cognizance of the evil in many forms. We see it spring up and bring forth profit in almost every avocation in life. It crouches itself with the clergy, on the farm, in the commercial world, in the school room, in the family circle, in the law offices, in the newspaper world, in fact it creeps into and stains the life and conduct of too many. In the present rush the world is pleasure and dollar mad. We are at times inhuman for the paltry sum of fifty cents and even less. We are inhuman or rather inhumane to gratify self and for convenience. We envy our neighbor's surroundings and act in a way so as to cause him to everlastingly hate us and hunt a place low down in the scale of human kindness. Our tongue gets away from us at times and the unkind spoken sends a dagger into the breast of the listener. How ungrateful we are. How proud and deceitful we appear and are. How many little things could we do for those around us that would be a blessing and cause the heart to leap for joy. We go on from day to day, allowing evil to grow – hoping to gain something financially – taking no thought of our actions and the desired end is accomplished – we prosper and the “fool world” calls it shrewdness. We travel down the lane of life and upon one side we read in big letters “Malefactors” and on the other side of the letters are larger and brighter indicating the land of Benefactors. A line divides and has no breadth and we cannot travel directly on that line – must be on one side or the other – walking on the land of “Malefactors” or standing, walking upon the land of Benefactors. Upon which side are we walking? Do we advocate and preach the hateful and degrading doctrine of “Man's Inhumanity to Man” and expect a reward? A reward we are sure to get. But of what nature and what duration? We belong to the dollar world – in fact we think, dream and labor for the dollar world that we may be admitted into the “pleasure-mad” world where we can flirt act the fool and do ten thousand things to cause the “dart” to pierce the heart of our fellow man.

“I'm rich” says one, “and what do I care for the friendship of this world – my money will buy the comforts of life and when I am sick and need help a thousand fools will crowd around and speak kind words – not for my comfort, but for my money.” A sail procession to look upon but one often observed. Can we draw the picture and draw it correctly? Do we lose sight of the Golden Rule – yea ignorance the same. Are we in sympathy with the wrong class? Do we stand upon the dividing line where the big dark and gloomy letters spell the word Malefactor? Is all our time, all our thoughts, actions and energy bent toward the “Dollar Kingdom” that people may call us shrewd? Do we get money, so we can be fashionable and sit around the apartments of those who neither fear God nor man, teaching our children to come on in our footsteps. Let us advocate and practice the law of kindness – imbiding [?] the spirit of right – taking taking what is ours and what we have earned. Foster the spirit of doing unto others as we would have them do unto us. Reader, let us enter into a compact to ignore the doctrine of “Man's Inhumanity to Man” and cultivate a spirit of love and a spirit [of] doing all the good we can for and toward each other.

There is something more valuable, more ennobling than a dollar – worth far more than to belong to the circle of fashion. Leave the unkind word unspoken – unsaid – unthought of and when we get a dollar, let's not take advantage of our fellow man to get it. Our little say on this line of thought may not be a welcome visitor and find lodgement in your mind – may be of no interest to you, but if there is one suggestion for a betterment in your thoughts and actions in life, to such a one we dedicate these thoughts.

Jim Crabtree and Charlie Wade got to talking one day last week and Jim said he knew a man who was so pigeon toed that he walked around himself every five or six steps. Said Charlie: “What a lie you are telling Jim.” Said Charlie: “I knew a man who had such big feet that he had to dam up Five Mile to wash his feet.” Said Jim: “What a lie, I'd be ashamed to talk that way.”

As we write the snow is falling fast and a gale of wind is coming from the north, making things out of doors look more gloomy than ever. Stock, having no shelter and but little feed will suffer, while those who are out of fuel for the house, little to eat and are in debt will suffer in mind and body. The weather forecaster predicted a severe winter but the people were of the Missouri faith and had to be shown. Now according to “Rule” if February 2nd is a clear day, you can safely add six more weeks of winter. Some of us are curiously made.

Tom Clark of West Side got rabbit hungry and started out for meat, and walked right into a deep shaft, falling about 75 feet. He remained there for 5 hours until help arrived. Tom is out and alive and not so eager to hunt for rabbits in deep snows. The next news to come over the wires was the sudden death of Uncle John Carver on Shoal Creek. All knew him, and to know him was to love and respect. Uncle John was ripe in years, a man of superior intelligence, a good neighbor, a royal citizen and is badly missed by all. The next message was to the effect that “Curley” Rew died very suddenly in Galena. Curley had been in the mines at Peoria for some time and had gone to Galena where death claimed him.

On account of the deep snow the school at Peoria closed and so did both schools in district one. Old settlers claim that our winter is the worst for 25 years.

John Ramm told us last week that he was expecting to be notified that the whole “ram family” - 900 in number – would be in Baxter. John says he is afraid the “kids” will give him much trouble if this weather continues. John had 900 head of fine goats to come in from the west this past week.

Uncle Lem Wade who has been sick is able to be out again.

Mrs. E. C. Weilep and daughter, Mrs. Freeman, were here last week – came back to see the farm, look after some stock and took time to call.

A bunch of “wild dogs” - yes, wild dogs – are doing much damage to sheep and hogs. The dogs are quartered to the south and west of Peoria, about three or four miles. H. K. Walton goes down with his pack of houndsmen get on stands with guns while Harry and his dogs start the wild dogs from their dens. Billy Cowan shot and killed one dog the past week while Walton found seven little dogs in an old log.

Leonard Roy and wife are moving from Galena to Peoria. Mrs. Roy is a daughter of Dr. Webb of Peoria and will be glad to return to her old home.

James Martin of Peoria made a pleasant call on Sunday.

Harry Crawfish can now talk to all creation as he has installed his phone.

When the auto first made its appearance it was a machine of derision – all despised it but the owner and at times the owner used words about it not allowable in print. But the dislike of the auto is fast giving away and praise comes now instead of cursing. About 85 per cent of the autos now in use are “pleasure machines” and play an important part in the making of good roads all over the United States. Those who are able to afford an auto for pleasure are able and will help to build roads over which their pleasure machines can go. Allow the autos free access to our public high ways and we will soon have money to make our roads good. Drive the autos away from our roads and we just as quick will have no roads worth talking about. Just as long as the auto is a factor in road building, encourage its use and bid it welcome to our public high ways. The horse will never be doomed on account of the auto – the horse is here to stay, and the horse, like the auto,, is an important factor in man's business in general. At such a time as the present an auto can not go, but the trusty old horse can, therefore we must keep the horse for his purpose, and the auto for its purpose. Any county is measured by its roads. Good roads are what they want and good roads are what they are going to have. So let us invite the auto into our midst – make our roads suitable for its use and by so doing we invite a class of citizens who will open their pocket books to help keep the roads good. Don't fight the auto any more but welcome it.

This morning as we are at our desk trying to get something on paper (it's Monday) the weather is cuttin' caper similar to that of a week ago. The school marm has not passed to her school and if she is a wise girl she wont pass this way today. We're afraid “Our Sam” will hand up and fail to come to hand us a paper or a letter to break the dull monotony of a dreary winter day. We could not get a phone call thro central at Peoria for love or money – for a doctor or anything else – for all are talking about the awful weather. For fear Sam don't come we hunt a stopping place and in conclusion would suggest that when an opportune time comes, “Drag the Roads.”

[John's son Floyd might have been the culprit, according to Floyd's grandson.]

We may give you a short sum to do – you may find the sum in Mason's or Crawdad's Arithmetic. Prob. 1. A woman, beginning at midnight can deliver to her hubby at the rate of 75 words a minute, and for every half hour later she increases her speed at the rate of three words a minute. How many words will the hubby hear between two and two forty-five?

Prob 2. A woman wants to reduce her weight. One roll on the floor takes off two oz while four cocktails a day and three deserts and two quarts of champagne add 14 ounces. How many hours must the lady roll between meals to keep even?

We'll give you another problem next week and at the end of the month you can send in your answers and we'll grade you according to your standing.

Ten jibes make twenty people mad, but of the ten jibes, each one delights five out of ten who do not agree with it. What is the proportion of madness to gladness?

Young man, when thou goest among girls, let not thy left girl know what thy right girl doeth.

It is folly to try to fold a newspaper in a high wind and just as wise to argue with an angry woman.

Bill Smith, the eldest son of Mr. and Mrs. Tom Smith was disposed of at public sale to Jane Snow on my farm, one mile west of Hornett, Mo., in the presence of seventy guests, including the following: Two mules, twelve head of cattle. Elder Scroggins tied the nuptial knot averaging 1265 pounds to the hoof. The beautiful home was tastefully decorated in one spake, one sneky rake, one feed grinder, one set of double harness nearly new. Just before the ceremony was pronounced the wedding march was rendered by one milch cow, one Jersey cow to be fresh in August, carrying a bunch of flowers in one hand and and looking charming in a gown made of eight spring wagons, box of apples, six stacks of cane hay, one grindstone, muslin lingere trimmed with about one hundred of Irish potatoes. The groom is well known and a popular young man and has always stood well among society circles of twelve Berkshire hogs while the bride is an accomplished school teacher of Poland Chinas, pedigree is complete. Among the beautiful presents were two sets of silverware, one wheel-barrow, one go-cart, and other things too numerous to mention. The bridal couple lest Monday for an extended honey moon trip to the east. Terms: Nine months time to responsible parties, others spot cash. Lunch will be served at the stable. After this Mr. and Mrs. Smith will go to house keeping on the farm.

Billy Connor, Auctioneer.

In starting out we had another subject in view, though much akin to the use of the suppressed and expressed kind words.

While walking down one of the nice streets of Galena a few days ago, a sweet prattling boy coming coming toward us – his little face beamed with joy and infantile happiness – a gladsome time to get out and romp as children are wont – the little fellow's mind was yet untarnished and nothing but gleeful joy came to his mind. We stopped and he looked at us, the picture of health and development. His eyes sparkled, his little mind was active in the pursuit of happiness, and the “little man” knew of no such words as fear and danger. He was a symbol of innocence. We looked at the little fellow again and another thought came in our mind. If this beautiful healthy and well developed boy could be taught the lesson of innocence and purity he would grow up to be a pure and innocent man.

While we stood in a contemplative mood – reflecting on the possibility of the boy on the side walk another thought came into our mind. While wrapped in reflections created by the appearance of the “little man” by us his mother, maybe an aunt or a nurse came in haste after the little fellow and in order to get the boy to readily return to his home, she began to tell him scary tales – causing fear to creep into his mind – she told him of bad dogs killing and carrying off little boys. Before, there was no fear, no ideas of danger in the boy's mind, but now the lever of words had been reversed. We passed on still in a reflective mood. The boy was the symbol of purity, but the “supposing” loving woman crowded fear and the idea of danger into his little mind and he was not the same little boy we met on the side walk.

How often do people who meet the sunny and happy “little ones” and make use of some word or expression to torture their minds? What folly, what nonsense to say nothing of the disastrous work calculated to follow. If we had been guilty of such, let us also reverse the lever of words and start in anew. Keep scary lies to yourself, and if you desire to be bad, be so negatively and not positively. If you talk nothing but grammar to your boy, he will grow up a grammarian and the same holds true, through the “catalog” of life.

Mr. J. A. Rudick, better known in his community as "Crawdad," a very genial gentleman, holding the office of Justice of the Peace in Peoria township, Ottawa County Ok., is one among many who have found relief at the hands of the United Doctors.

The story is best told in his own words in the following letter:

Baxter Springs, Kan.,
Apr. 10, 1913,

To Dr. Dresbach, Chief of Staff of United Doctors; Joplin Mo.,

Dear Doctor:--

I suffered from kidney and bladder trouble for several months, which gradually got worse until I was passing blood and my nervous system was completely shattered from loss of sleep resulting from the intense pain I was forced to endure. I first consulted a doctor about Nov. 15th, and tried five before I received any benefit whatever, the last one said I was suffering from gravel and his treatment seemed to help me for a little while.

On March the 7th I went to your office for an examination, where I was informed that an enlarged and tender prostate was the cause of most of my suffering. I took four weeks treatment at the United Doctors Institute and am entirely relieved of all the suffering and feel as well as I ever did in my life. When I went to your office I could not get on the street car or up the steps without help - I was so nervous, could not eat, complexion sallow, and I was in constant pain, a full nights sleep was unknown to me for many months. I have gained in weight, have a good appetite, sleep well at night, and can walk any distance I choose without inconvenience. I walked five miles yesterday. Thanks to your new united method of treatment, I am today a sound well man. You may publish this letter that others may learn where relief may be obtained who are afflicted as I was.

Yours very truly, J. A. Rudick

Those who are personally acquainted with Crawdad know that he is a careful, conservative man, whose word is his bond, and his articles written for publication are read by many, though they be serious or humorous in character.

We agree with Billy and exclaim with him that this world is a pomegranate, and ripe, too. Bill's just flowed – ran like a smooth stream. Yes, Sir, Bill, our railroad cars are bigger, run faster, pitch off the track oftener and kill more people than all other railroad cars in any other country. Our men are bigger, longer and thicker and can fight harder and faster, drink more mean liquor, chew more tobacco and spit further than any men in any other country. Our ladies are richer, prettier, dress finer, wear smaller corsets, tighter dresses, break more hearts and kick up the devil generally to beat all other ladies in all other lands. Our rivers are the longest, run the fastest and the swiftest, rise higher, get the muddiest and kill more people than any body else's rivers. Yes, Bill, our dollars are bigger, rounder, has a finer ring, the brightest, will buy more corn pone, sow belly and hoss apples than any body else's dollars and is loved, worshipped and adored by our people in all other countries.

A land of fine churches and thousands of licensed saloons, Bibles, forts and guns, houses of prostitution; libertines and liars; millionaires and paupers; theologians and thieves; politicians and poverty; Christians and chain gangs; schools and scalawags; trusts and tramps; money and misery; homes and hunger; virtue and vice; a land where you get a good Bible for 15c and a drink of whiskey for 5c; where we license brandy houses and prosecute men for preaching Christ; where we have 400 men to make our lams [laws?] and nine to set them aside; where good whiskey makes good men bad, and bad men make good whiskey; where professors draw their convictions from the same place they do their salaries; where preachers are paid $25,000 a year to tickle the ears of the rick; where business insists of getting hold of property in any old way that won't land you in the pen; where trusts “lived up” and poverty “holds down.” A place where a girl goes wrong and her male partner who caused her ruin to pose as gentleman; where women wear false hair and can now in many states cast a ballot; where the women can sit on a jury, consisting four women and eight men or four men and eight women, locked up all night, fed on bread and water with their husbands peeping through the key hole to see which way the verdict is going; where we vote for men one day and cuss 'em 365 days; where we have prayers in the “house” and liquor in the cellar; where we spend $500 to buy a politician and $10 to buy a working man; where men pay $1,000 for a dog and 15c a dozen for a woman to make shirts; where we teach ignorant Indians Eternal Life from the Bible and kill them off with bad whiskey; where we put a man in jail for stealing a loaf and in Congress for stealing a million; where the check book talks, sin walks in open daylight, justice asleep, crimes run high and the devil laughs on all street corners. Yes Bill, we agree with you that the world is a peach – a grand concern and the “half has never been told,” a place where we can not get much better and to to get a little worse is actually dangerous.

[Another copy of the April 25 United Doctors advertisement appears in this issue.]

Let Mr. Tick get a good hold – present his bite right and then you can say that you underwent an operation chock full of pleasure. Oh, if not a tick, let Mr. Flea take a few leaps and bounds over you and see how hard he is to catch. He can be in more places at “one time” than any living creature – for he belongs to the “floating” population and takes great pleasure in giving you much trouble. The tick is not like the flea – he cares nothing about your joys or troubles but sinks his own blessedness – gets on you – crawls to the most tender spot – generally where you have trouble in reaching him – when you have your best girl with you – then and not till then does his tickship begin to bore for oil and cause you excruciating pains until you break his hold on you, and then and not until then do you realize the real pleasures in life. Come to Five Mile and experience for once in life a real and joyful pleasure.

Mathematician

A negro was met carrying a large bundle of books which brought out the inquiry:

“Going to school?”

“Yes sar.”

“Do you study all these books?”

“No sar; dey's me brudder's. I'se a ignorent kind er nigger 'side him, boss. Yea just orter see dat nigger figerin. He has gone an' ciphered clean through addition, partition, distraction, abdomination, justification, creation, amputation and adaptation.”

The learned gentleman is a deep thinker and is delving deeper and deeper into the mysteries of science. What the results of such investigations are going to be is hard to tell, but we fear in this particular instance it is going to be detrimental to the rural population and give vent to many vile epithets not heretofore uttered by those who live in cities and villages. If this gentleman's “prophesy” works out and he says it will work – must work – necessity is back of it and science demands the products of her labor.

This writer, Mr. Ed. tells us he has perfected a plan to make eggs out of air. He says it is now a fact and he is read to turn his invention loose on the world and give the sons and daughters of man the benefit of his invention, if you want to call it an invention. What do you think Mr. Ed. about this egg business from air – what do you think of the disastrous results which naturally follow? In one sense it is a glorious thought and in another it is sad indeed. Yes, Mr. Editor you can pass your plate and call for eggs – more eggs and in any amount you so desire. The price will be curtailed so that all can eat eggs and in any style invented by the brain of man. When you sit down to the table, morn noon or night you'll not have to bandage your mouth, or use a camphor bottle on the account of eggs being rotten or ready to hatch – the smell of a mildewed goad will all banish like magic when this process comes about. Just try to realize the situation, Mr. Ed. Try to think of the wonders of man – the product of a working brain. Eggs made of air at any time and at any place. Just think of turning the crank of a machine with a slice of north wind turned on and a batch of fresh eggs roll out. Just think of how many you could carry on a fishing trip or when you go to see your wife's people. Yes, sir, eggs from east to west, from north to south – from Dan to Berthuba and clear up to the rafters of paradise – eggs – nothing but eggs and a pile of them as big as creation. But, Mr. Ed., we have we have not said anything about the disastrous results rising from such an invention. The dear Hen, with her Mormon proclivities will have to go and be no more. The barn yard rooster who proclaimed the result of Biblical prophesy and who has fought many battles and lost thousands – whose neck has been twisted for epicures – he too, must pass out his clarion voice never to ring out of mornings, proclaiming the coming of day. The fond chirp of young chicks will be heard no more and the writers on Henism will turn from the “poultry business” and there will be a thing of former days and former times. No more fried chicken – because this egg air concern has ruined the whole shootin' match. It's sad indeed in word and in truth. Just think of the faithful hen – the laborious hen – the non-striking hen – the hen who was never known to grumble – never to have a divorce case in the courts of Hendom – all gone, gone and nothing but a faint idea glimmering on the memories of man and just a few lines on the pages of history to tell future generations of glorious times that were and are no more. A sad thought, Mr. Ed. The results are sadder and the more we think of it the deeper it sinks into our minds and adds intensity to troubled thoughts. “Consarn” the thinking brain of man, anyhow. But how are you going to keep man from thinking – from making scientific investigations to keep keep man in perpetual trouble and want – to cause him to keep pace with fashion and possesses only a lean pocket book – to cause woman to wear and worry over her heaven and a half of toggery and be a solid week getting ready for a ball. But back to eggs. The last part is doleful and while the first is joy, peace and happiness higher than man has ballooned yet. Look out for the machine – it'll soon be on the market and be sure to get one. Pass your plate and have more eggs.

Snap Shots

“Crawdads.” Speaking of Crawdads reminds us that there is one writing for this paper. He is a surprise to us, for we naturally suppose that this dry weather had put the “quietus” to their “much rambling,” but we had his regular “hot air” last week.

An old negro woman was arrested and brought before a Justice of the Peace, charged with “unmercifully” whipping one of her grandsons. The court asked the old woman if she had anything to say before sentence was passed upon her. “Sho' I has, I wants to know if you was eber the daddy of a wifeless nigger boy?” “Your fine is remitted” said the court.

While on fashion lines, we read of a man who thought he had a right to do a little fashion work, so he thought if the ladies had a right to wear imitation bells on their knees he had some rights coming. So he strapped a huge cow bell around one leg and ambled in to church. The scene had its desired effect. The ladies dismissed their miniature bells, sewed up their slits while the man was arrested for a public nuisance. If there is any change in female attire it is sure to be in our favor for it can't be worse.

Uncle Lem Wade also had visitors on the aforesaid night. He jumped out of bed opened the door and the “fun boys” had his wagon in his door with a huge log for a prop and daddy Wade had to go back to bed. We're glad that the pesky boys let us off as well as they did. A boy's a boy and that is all you can expect [from] him.

Opossums and 'simmons are now ripe in a fine condition to eat and will help to cripple Mr. Highcostolivin'. What is nicer and sweeter than a young tender and well cooked possum when one's hungry as sin. One who refuses to dine upon such a dish is “wanting” to some extent under the headgear. Jim Crabtree and “Shad” Imbeau caught five in one night. Then the 'simmons – good ripe ones touched with a white frost and a [ ] freeze, they too are delicious diet. A learned man once said “fools and dressed ups are the only ones who refuse to eat opossum and persimmons.”

Atty. O. F. Mason of Miami was here Saturday and conducted a replevin suit before Judge Rudick in a [case] wherein S. Causatte was plaintiff and L. Stroup, defendant. The jury found for the defendant. The case was interesting throughout and settled in a satisfactory way to all concerned.

R. Roy Van Horn, Plaintiff VS J. A. Rudick, Defendant

Before F. L. Ray, Justice of the Peace of Peoria Township, said County.

Said defendant J. A. Rudick will take notice that he has been sued in the above named Court, by the above named plaintiff to recover the sum of Thirteen Dollars and five cents on account of Money due and that personal property of said defendant has been seized in garnishment, and said cause set for trial on the eighteenth day of Jan. 1912 [1915] at ten o'clock A. M. at which time if said defendant fail to appear the allegations of plaintiff's bills of particulars will be taken as true, and a judgment for said plaintiff in said action for said amount claimed and for costs and in the attachment therein granted will be rendered accordingly. Dated this twelfth day of December 1914 Attest; F. L. May Jus of the Peace. First published on December 16, 1914.

Have delayed answering your letter on account of sickness of my wife and other matters. I have been trying to line up something for you, but you know that one must be on the ground to catch what is in the wind. The different Bakeries here in Joplin are doing an immense business. All want to see the party who desires work and try them to see they can do the work, or such is offered as an excuse. If you are up on the Con. business, you would stand a good chance to get work on the street car line. There is a demand in all cities for those who are efficient - for those who can do their work rightly and willingly.

I only wish you were here to get a job when the opportunity came. It would be a pleasure to see you, wife and the "little ones". You know that your dear old dad is getting up in years and it would be a pleasure to be with you. I am 60 years old, but I don't look it and I don't feel it. It is true that I have done no manual labor for over one year - been in the newspaper business most of the time - was associate editor of The Galena Weekly Republican for a long time - did the writing for the weekly and the daily until the 22nd of last June when I had a nervous breakdown and had to quit. I do some writing for publication yet - sent an article to the Republican this morning - wrote a few articles for the Joplin papers and received some favorable comment. I bear the name of being one who can say more mean things with the fewest words and in the shortest space. I have nearly lost the name of Rudick and go by the name of "CRAWDAD". I am considered the monumental liar of this country - the best "yarn spinner" who ever spun a spin. But I look for some guy to come in and in the space of six months, rob me of all my "glory". Listen: a traveler down in Ark. (as the story runs) rode up to a house and asked a great big, strapping gal where her

[End of page. Any other pages are lost.]

Crawdad

Dear Editor and many readers of this paper: - After an absence of many months, we greet you and the many readers again, hoping that our greeting will not be considered an intrusion by any one. In our “comeback” we do not pretend to say that we will offer anything new in the way of news and candidly admit that our little stock of information has not increased since we last met you, in the field of correspondence. We, until about a year ago, contributed regularly, our mite, despite the adverse criticism so abundantly lavished upon us during our long “stay.” We were accorded the privilege of saying what we pleased, had many “pencil rackets” with correspondents and lost in every battle, had the cognomen of “damphool” hurled at us from every point of the compass which we dared not deny, because of the preponderance of evidence against us, and from the record of the past, we should never – no never, have been allowed to enter the field as a correspondent for if we have ever written one word, or advocated a single idea accepted by the people, can't remember it. But from some mysterious cause, we got in the field and from a still more mysterious cause, we remained for a number of years. We're out now, and it may be a high and hard jump to get into the field again and commence our old game of “doing” as we please.

Deceased was 50 years old. She resided at Five Mile, southwest of this city about twenty years, and was widely and favorably known in that vicinity and in Galena. She is the wife of J. A. Ruddick (better known as Crawdad), who formerly was connected with this paper in furnishing notes from the Five Mile district. About two years ago she with her husband moved to Joplin where they have since resided.

To her the struggle and burden bearing of earth are ended, and we confidently trust that like one who awakes from a troubled dream she has awakened to see life's endless morning break and know herself home with the vast throng of loved ones, missed here on earth, safe about her.

The funeral cortege left the Cunningham Undertaking parlors in Joplin at 1 o'clock Tuesday and went to Hornett, Mo., where funeral services were held and burial was in the Hornett cemetery.

The many friends of this friend extends their sympathy to Mr. Ruddick in his sad bereavement.

“Crawdad” will give us an article each week under his old caption and in his usual style – for the only way to manage “Crawdad” is to let him manage himself.

So when he calls – it may be today tomorrow or next week – for he's sure to call. He will attend to your wants in all respects. He will be pleased to meet every reader of this paper, and extends an invitation ti one and all, when in Galena, to make the Republican office your stopping place – for you're welcome.

This man was a palindrome – just the same backward or forward – reads the same one way as the other and was a real braggadocio – for he claimed that he never did or never would read a newspaper or anything else in print. He will never see this and take the "hint," for he never reads. "Repudiation" is his religion and he never lives it – lives it three hundred and sixty-five times in a year and will keep the number of the years the good Lord permits him to exist. He is to be pitied – for no one is so "honory," but has some following. He is not a reader of this or any other paper – he may "take" some paper, but should one ask him to pay even a paltry sum, he begins at once to advocate his "repudiation" ideas, and gives you to understand that he is "versed in the law," but cannot read, - for you never saw a "man" like this man who could read or had any use for books or papers. Yes, we could take a single hair from the head of any idiot, hollow out the pith, place fifty of such men as our "man" in the hollow and the dodgasted thing would rattle.

Peoria Okla.

Crawdad was visiting old neighbors and friends in this vicinity the first of the week, looking up correspondents for the "Republican" as you will perceive by this.

Lowell – Star Prairie

John Ruddick, better known as "Crawdad" was a welcome visitor with friends and relatives last week.

We saw what is supposed to be a meteor – a rock of something like two tons. The rock has the appearance of at some time passed through a fire.

We were informed that the rock fell from the “regions above” and was moved from where it fell, in a field, on the Playter land, in Quaker Valley to its present resting place. Where it came from and by whom sent, is not inscribed on its surface.

Rats

Yes, rats. In last week's issue someone from Lowell suggested a day be set apart to kill rats. There are too many of the hateful things. They are everywhere and their work is destructive. Yes, set a day for the work and kill rats – kill lots of 'em – and the one who can show the greatest number of rats killed, should be given a handsome reward in money. Let someone be appointed Rat Captain and get the work started. (Special notice. We will kill every rat in the county for $5, get me?)

We did not go into the country – did not call on any of our readers and did not solicit a single subscriber. We rested. We sat at our window all day the Fourth – watched the surging mass of humanity striving to go “somewhere.” We heard the noise – we saw two men fight and they fought because their brain was crazed by liquor. These men bought the booze from a “licensed trap” - a trap set for the “money” and the poor fellow got caught in the “trap” and got “pinched.” “Toleration and suppression of Vice,” all in one sentence and couched in a city ordinance. We would not say that such a state of affairs exists in the city of Joplin. We will let you say that. The saloons are nothing more and nothing less than “licensed traps” - legalized by a city ordinance and under Commission Form of Government. The “form” may be all right, or it may be all wrong. A piece of machinery has a bad name by wrong use or the improper use of handling. It is not in fault of the machine, but in the use of it. Tolerate a thing for years – allow it to run and grow and then yell, “suppress it.” License the “trap” let them run and raise a crop of drunkards, then submit a proposition to them to vote “dry.” Will they do it? A “wet” city in a “dry” territory will “flourish like a green bay tree,” but “what will the harvest be?” License the big “evils” and suppress the smaller ones. Proper legislation and the enforcement of the same is beneficial to any people, but we fear that legislation alone will not conserve the coming generations. The work must be started and kept going around the fireside – at home. The boys and girls, who are to be the fathers and mothers of other generations should be taught the “great lesson” we have so dearly learned at this time. If we preach “suppression'” let us not practice “toleration.” I've drifted from the Fourth, but the consequent evils by getting into a “trap” are manifest and stand as a warning, that we should love, honor and respect the rising generation to that extent that we will do something for their conservation in years to come, and our work will be as “bread cast upon waters, to be gathered many days hence.”

Anyway, we did not want to write, and not to would not have caused any perturbation of mind upon your part. It is a little funny though, that when we do miss writing for this paper, there is a howl of indignation from all parts of the county. Why so, is a mystery to us. But we did not intend to attempt to write, for we were all shot to pieces. We felt like, that the sooner this mundane ball would cease to revolve, the better off mankind would be. We pick up a paper and all we can read about is war, nation cutting and slashing the life out of some other nation, and all for the acquisition of territory. The spirit of greed is becoming so manifest throughout the entire world, it makes the heart sick. No wonder we become perturbed and wish we could swing off on some easy route and be free from the turmoils of life. We never had but two years of real enjoyment, and that was the first two years of our existence here. All we had to do during the first two years of our life was to draw life from two “living fountains,” kick up our heels and grow. During the later part of the two years, trouble began to brew, for an aunt came to our place, and we went home with her for a visit. To stay just for a short time. When we came back we found a red faced “something” had taken ours in in mother's pleasant lap, and we had to swap the same off for dad's old knee. Trouble began coming then and the clouds of adversity have been gathering and hovering over us to the present time. No wonder we don't care to write. Who would? When in this mood, we feel that all of Adam's race is in the same fix. Is it hot weather, ruined crops, hot winds, wars and “rumors of wars,” or what is it that seizes you and makes you feel like committing suicide? We were not going to write, for something had taken all the snap out of us, and we did not care a continental if the world went to the bow-wows in a twinkling.

Crawdad

We are in Galena, today, near a busy and much traveled street, and the first thing to attract out attention, is an

Automobile

We see many of them and they are going in all directions, some at a moderate rate of speed some are going – fast, seen to be in a very great strain to get somewhere. We were constrained to think a little about these honk wagons surrying to and fro through the country. What are they doing and what is their mission? The automobile is doing much – its work is great and its effects are greater. It takes people from the city to resorts in the country; it makes the baseball game a small affair; it lessens the attendance at the Sunday school; it keeps people from church; it cripples travel upon the railroads; it depletes the income upon interurban roads and does many other odd things. It causes men and women to be rushed to the hospitals where their injuries can be attended to; it brings men into court and fosters litigation; it takes capital away from home, and forces our banks to go east for capital which we borrow from the banks and pay a good interest for the use of the money. Verily, the auto is a wonderful thing and our people have the fever at a high temperature. The men who make them and the men who mend them are the ones who are in the swim. We wish we owned a Ford.

Words

While at our desk our mind went back to boyhood days and some very plain remembrances are before us. We will remember the old log schoolhouse, with “slabs” for benches, and four two inch auger holes, for the insertion of legs, made of poles the proper size and if the log protruded an inch or more on top of the bench, and your seat happened to be where the protrusion was, you had to be still and not growl. In those days, there were but few laws and everybody regarded thus sacred.

Some fifty years ago (goodness we are not that old) the pronoun I was of common use – everybody used it, and then it was grammatical, whatever that means. At this age, “I” was much in use but now has become obsolete. To use “I” at this age means no one – for who is “I”? It is now “we” and all are familiar with the word “we.” “We” is plural or singular, very much singular.

In Self Defense

“Crawdad” is getting somewhat fidgety in the last week – getting thin, emaciated, pale and filled with fear. He says he's liable to fall in at the office door at any time, with his anatomy so completely punctured that it will resemble a sieve. His fears are great and he's lacking in words to describe his feelings. “Crawdad” says, the plague-taked “Hunch” story got by his desk in some mysterious way, and as a result a million questions and as many threats has come to him, and the article stands out in bold language against him and he has to bear the name of being the daddy of the blamed thing. Then here comes the doggoned “Dog” story and slipped by in through the same channel and every groceryman in the town is getting their old “fire traps” cleaned up, and oiling up their “talking machine” - just won't and can't stand it – the dadbusted story, too rests upon him and he has to bear the anathemas and vile vituperations of an enraged set of grocerymen and their fussy clerks. He says it is the best gotten up piece of literature he has ever read and news a sure pop, at the fountain head of pure cleanliness if he did not write it, but he says, “there's no use” - too late to stop trouble now. But, “Crawdad” says to tell the doggoned grocery fellows to put their groceries high up – awful high – for he knows a man, moving into town who has two or more awfully tall dogs. “Crawdad's” out of town , on a vacation, see?.

Crawdad – To Our Readers

Good morning to one and all. We would be pleased to make a personal call and talk with you, but we can not. Our office duties will not permit us, and we believe we can better serve by remaining here, than going from place to place to meet you. We must say that during our “tramp” through the country we never met a more congenial and kind hearted people, and we found a welcome in the home at all times.

Now reader, you know what our mission was when we were “tramping” - to collect back subscriptions, renew and take on new names. The work was too arduous and too expensive – for often times we had to go over the same ground time and again to see all and then miss a number. We would be pleased to see you all again, and perchance we want to see you worse than you want to see us, but that cuts no ice with “Crawdad,” for he wants to see every reader of the Republican, because he likes you.

Now reader will you please look to the right of your name on your paper and you can see to where your subscription is paid.

Being in the office day in and day out we are familiar with what it takes to run a newspaper. It costs a lot of money. The cost of machinery to run the plant goes into the thousands of dollars. Office help costs a lot of money. The entire cost is far more than you would think. Now will you through “Crawdad” look and see how much you are behind and if you cannot remit in full, please send us a part. The editors need the money.

We have labored to give you a readable paper and the consensus of opinion is that we have done so. This is not a demand but a kind request to remit a part of what you are due to help the boys out in their effort to give you a good paper.

Mr. Rudick was a pleasant caller on the rural readers of The News this week.

Quaker Valley

J. A. Rudick (Crawdad) spent Wednesday night with J. Shirley. Mr. Rudick is out in the interest of The Baxter Springs News.

Riverton

Mr. Rudick transacted business in Lowell and Riverton last Thursday.r.

The present yield and the high price of wheat will cause an unusual acreage to be sown this fall.

The general topic of the day is about the war – going to war – the conservation of waste products of the farm. The papers are full of advice as what to eat and the quantity to be eaten and one person has told us hoe to make “craklin bread.” One man was heard to say that if all had to “conserve” and the U. S. was now “hard up” we had as well give in – for we'd get whipped. But the “fellows” who tell us to eat corn bread would turn up their noses at the sight of a corn dodger.

The only objection to be alleged against this band is – they are robbers and their work is very destructive – mostly to themselves. They have been repeatedly asked to desist from their destructive course, but to no avail. It is true that nearly all members of this “gang” are law abiding citizens, sit on juries and render verdicts hard to be gainsayed. A few members have been dropped from the rolls, but their standing has not been impaired in the least, but rather raised to a higher standard. It is to be hoped that in a few years this band will become extinct and remembered only in name. This band of robbers in our midst whom we have much against and nothing in particular, are a band who from year to year continue to rob the soil – take all they can get from “mother earth” and never put anything back to replace the waste. Their work goes to show that they are in favor of depleting the soil instead of making it better. Reader, are you a member of this band of robbers?

It is to be hoped that when the line is in working order that “eave-droppers” will be so ashamed that all receivers will not come down at once, while a subscriber is trying to talk.

Speaking of telephones and telephone lines, it has been said that the invention of the telephone was the work of the devil. Satan had a grievance against men and invented the telephone to get even. There are two kinds of “phones “ - the desk phone – you can throw it from the table to the floor, kick and swear at it and then the blamed thing won't talk until it gets ready. In order to make the wall phone come across and do the work, a crow-bar or an axe must be used. Most telephones are made to talk in, but some people spit in them and a few stand on tip-toes and yell at the top of their voices. If you want to “fall from grace,” take stock in a rural telephone line, or patronize a mail order house.

“Who is Crawdad?” is a question often asked. Immaterial. He is a one-gallus laborer, devoid of education and good common sense. Reader, put on your “specks” and read between the lines and you can see the corn fields, oat and wheat fields, hay meadows and a few tears to dampen the paper to help out the editor. We asked the editor if we could write a few “editorials” and he kindly told to wait awhile.

Old and plain is the road leading from the country to the city and many are found walking therein. The road is traveled, because the city has better schools and better advantages to aid the young in going up the ladder of life. An old farmer (retired) told us he was going to the city to live. He was sadly mistaken, for he went to the city to die. Our boys and girls go from country to the city in order to locate their calling in life. It is an ill-fitting collar, and causes many sore spots, to require a young man or a young woman to follow an occupation for which they are not fitted. All people are not farmers, all are not lawyers, all are not physicians, but many are not in their right class. The farmer should not travel the road to the city – he has no business there. The man engaged in a legal or professional calling has no business in the country.

Our youths should not be censured and condemned, because they want to and do travel the frequented road from country to city. They are only wanting to “Find Themselves” - have a desire to get a glimpse of “Self” and learn their true worth. If the boy, who is wanting to get “higher up,” wants to go to the city, let him go. If the “collar” is an ill fitting one, he soon will return home and seek another road.

If a boy or girl possesses genius, there is no power to hold them down and keep them from progressing. Onward, forward and up is their slogan. They know nothing of retrogression, but much of progression. They forget they are hungry and work on. They forget they are sleepy and rise another round on the ladder. Place them in a prison cell and their minds keep working and grasping for new ideas and how to get on. If they do not possess genius, they are of but little value in the city or in the country.

We are not fatalist, but it looks as though some can never get another round “higher up,” if all the money, all the advantages in life were piled mountain high around them. It is not in them and what is not in a thing can not be gotten out. Why is it that some can not be held back and some can not be urged forward? If the boy wants to travel the road to the city, let him go – he is only “hunting his calling.”

And Other Roads

And not digressing there are many roads leading to the city and to other places. These roads are either good or bad. Any people are known by their roads. The public highways are marks of progress. The spirit of good roads is here and has come to stay. The public have the “fever” but just a few have not. It is true that our rural mail routes are not what they should be. Our carriers must drive six days of the week, while others only go over the road occasionally. Our rural mail routes should have more and better care. We like to get our mail on time and not from a grouchy carrier made so by bumping over roads, stumps and pulling through mud holes. How are our roads, eh?

We have had a rough time of it all through life – a sort of predestined step-child of hard luck – damned if we did and damned if we didn't. The first two years of our life was the best and happiest. All we had to do was to draw life from two living fountains, kick up our heels and grow. But our old aunt came to our place and persuaded us to go home with her and stay all night. When we went back home next morning we found a new brother had come to stay. We had to give up mother's warm lap for dad's old knee and since then our troubles commenced and grew upon us at a wonderful rate.

Reader, did you ever see a more busy people, not only here, but everywhere? A general unrest prevailed. There is an abnormal condition in every phase of life. All are in a hurry. One can not go fast enough, yet all seem to be happy and contented despite a world-war upon us, to take the manhood of the nation away to fight a mighty foe. A different spirit has gotten hold of our people and the complexion of things have undergone a wonderful change. While most all appear to be happy, yet there is a sadness hidden away down in the recesses of the heart. “Two shall be on the housetop; one shall be taken and the other left; “Two shall be grinding at the mill, one shall be taken and the other left.”“It is Rachel weeping for her children and will not be comforted, because they are not.”

It is going to take months to restore things back to normal conditions. There will be many sad hearts before the time. The pillow will be wet with a mother's tears, praying for the safe return of a darling boy gone to the trenches to fight for the honor of his country. All will not return. Some will, but can you depict the difference of feeling between the mother who sees her son return home and the one who knows that he is gone forever. It seems that fate has set her iron foot on the race and the present state of affairs had to come. It seems that the awful crisis could not have been prevented. One thing we do know, it has come and the emergency must be met. It can be and will be met and the honor of our people be preserved.

Rudick Returns after Two Years Absence (By Crawdad)

After a long absence and much meandering we find a hearty welcome with our many friends in and around Galena. Coming here from the berry fields of southwest Missouri, where the berry growers came into their own by a big crop and good prices coming from a country where you cannot step three feet in any direction without stepping up or down hill coming from and to quote Dr. Crance “from people, who are the gladdest, the maddest, baddest, humanest craziest, most expensive, loviest, ugliest, cleanest, dirtiest, happiest, saddest, kindest, and cruelest people this side of the “New Jerusalem,” who does their damdest to do all in their power to make a living and to make the world happy.”

Coming back to good old Galena we find the same kind of faces as in days past and gone. Having been in many towns, cities and where many souls dwell we find no place we like so well as Galena and the surrounding country..

Lick Prairie

After a year or so of absence we will enter again among the writers. Crawdad, who has been a booster for the Republican for the past eighteen years, was in our midst last week and was wondering what had become of the old mule that was once saved by a woman's prayer.

Pleasant Valley

John Rudick, better known as “Crawdad” to the readers of the Galena Republican was in Crestline the first of the week looking after correspondents, and working for the interests of the paper. We are glad to see Crawdad back again, with the Republican force. We see he keeps busy, by all correspondents, both old and new ones, writing. He will soon have correspondents in from all over the country, and then the Republican will be a real newsy weekly paper and one everyone will be glad to read. While in Crestline, Crawdad called at the home of the writer, where he always finds a welcome awaiting him any time he happens to call. Come again, Uncle John.

Crawdad Joltings

Lawton

Time and space forbids us telling of the many homes we visited and in almost every home we found that the Galena Weekly Republican was and had been a visitor for a number of years.

[Same page as above, nearer to the bottom]

J. A. Rudick Dies.

Galena, Kan., Nov. 23. - J. A. Rudick died at 2 o'clock this morning at the home of his niece, Mrs. John Atkinson on Five Mile, eight miles southwest of Galena. Rudick was well known throughout the country. He has been in ill heath for the past year. Rudick was a member of the St. Patrick's Catholic church and the Knights of Columbus of Joplin. His body was taken to Joplin, where funeral services will be held at 9 o'clock Friday morning from the Frank-Slevers Undertaking chapel.

Mr. Rudick resided on a farm on Five Mile near the Ralph Standley farm, twenty-five years and is well known throughout the southern part of the county.

During the last twenty years, he has been a contributor to the Galena Republican, his articles being of great interest to his many friends in the rural districts. The signature to all of his writings he used the name "Crawdad" entirely.

About three years ago he came to Galena to reside having a position at the Galena Smelter as weighman. The last year he has been in ill health and has spent the greater part of the time on the farm on Five Mile.

Three years ago he united with St. Patrick's Catholic Church.

At the time of going to press no funeral arrangements have been made.

It is not only Rudick that has passed away, but an era. Twenty-five years ago there was a peculiar fitness in the nom de plume, just as there was in Mark Twain when that title was adopted by Samuel M. Clemons. Then the frequent ponds were filled with crawdads, and mud towers appeared along the road, at the bottom of which the crawdaddy was supposed to live. They say that Illinois is called the Sucker state because immigrants, in passing through and finding no palatable water, would run hollow reeds down in these holes and from them draw fresh, cool, refreshing liquid.

Barefoot boys of early days would bend pins into hooks and carefully lower them into ponds, drawing forth the crawfish therein and thus supplying themselves with bait for more serious fishing. It was the urchin trudging along the wooded road who gave the affectionate name of “crawdad” to the backward crawling animal.

The crawdad is gone; has been gone for these years. Now “Crawdad” the correspondent, has passed. The old-time country correspondent is passing – he who told the neighborhood gossip, even the price of corn, the progress of many courtships and dissertations on politics.

They are all creatures of the past. Yet the old timer holds them in loving remembrance, and wishes them eternal felicity in filling the columns of the Heavenly Hooppole.