No. 7. DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE. 211 



the storekeeper must have shown him only the one leg of the over- 

 alls over the counter to sell by, and the other kept towards himself 

 to make profits on; but, notice his strange movements, as he puts 

 the whip inside the wagon; one hand goes down in his gray, bleached 

 and greasy coat pocket and brings up the bowl of a clay pipe, four 

 years and nine days old; by the dark shade and pungent aroma of 

 several weeks older still, the stem, one inch in length is put in his 

 mouth, after the bowl has been filled with "pull down shed navy." 

 It is then adjusted so that both nostrils will come over the bowl of 

 the pipe; this will now atlord the proper economy by utilizing ail the 

 escaping gases. He now reaches again for the whip to take the place 

 of the dinner the horse has missed, by being six hours on a road, 

 in accord with the driver's views, but only two and a half miles 

 long. I notice the cracker of the whip as it strikes the old collar, 

 and eleven strands of dilferent length. fall to the ground. What 

 about the horse? ]S"ot to go into detail, as there are many fine 

 points for an anatomist to reflect upon, and has nothing to do with 

 road condition, only the etfect of some cause — neither has the w^agon 

 — but let us look at it. It has three wheels of an antedeluvian 

 pattern; one borrowed from his neighbor Jones, three and a half 

 miles distant, the tire of which is half set on and half set off. The 

 The figure that it cuts on the ground is of a parabolic nature. The 

 hubs of the three wheels project so that three turkeys could roost 

 without being crowded on each hub, and in fact looked as though 

 it had been kept for that purpose. But the apparent image of the 

 man, the chief arbiter and controller of our road; I see him yet, with 

 his mouth stretching across the wide desolation of his face, a foun- 

 tain of falsehood and sepulchre of ruin. His family consists of a 

 baker's dozen, two girls and eleven boys. Election is on — a super- 

 visor to be elected. We vote for economy; we vote for mud trough 

 and dust trails. These require no taxes, no pride, no brain, no re- 

 ligion, no law, no nothing. We are nothing and a nothing is elected. 



Q. E. D., he carries out his constituent's wish, by perjuring his 

 soul when he say by solemn oath that he will keep the roads in a 

 passable condition and easy of access at all times and at all seasons 

 of the year. No religion, when he care not for the life of beasts of 

 burden. Xo pride, the demoralized condition tells for itself. No 

 brain, as they would certainly show in judgment exercised. Now, 

 fellow^ citizens, "when the foundations are gone, on what shall the 

 structure be builded?" 



We have tried to show you very meagerly the real condition that 

 confronts us in regard to improved public roads. Who are you 

 going to vote for at the spring elections, with the gang of fellows 

 whom I have just described, who are ruinous to the best interests 

 of society — anarchists opposing all public interest. Good roads 



