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ODDS AND ENDS 



SINCE WE GOT THE MORTGAGE 

 PAID. 



We've done a lot of scrimpin' an' a-livin' 



hand-to-mouth, 

 We've dreaded too wet weather an' we've 



worried over drouth. 

 For the thing kept drawin' int'rest, whether 



crops were good or bad. 

 An' raisin' much or little, seemed it swal- 

 lowed all we had. 

 The women folks were savin', an' there 



ain't a bit of doubt 

 But that things they really needed lots of 



times they done without. 

 So we've breathin' somewhat easy, an' 



we're feelin' less afraid 

 Of Providence's workin's, since we got the 



mortgage paid. 



I wish I'd kept a record of the things that 

 mortgage ate, 



In principal an' int'rest, from beginnin' 

 down to date! 



A hundred dozen chickens, likely fowl 

 with yellow legs, 



A thousand pounds of butter an' twelve 

 hundred dozen eggs. 



Some four or five good wheat crops, an' at 

 least one crop of corn, 



An' oats an' rye, it swallowed in its life- 

 time, sure's you're born, 



Besides the work an' worry, ere its appe- 

 tite was stayed! 



So we're feelin' more contented, since we 

 got the mortgage paid. 



We've reached the point, I reckon, where 



we've got a right to rest. 

 An' loaf around, an' visit, wear our go-to- 



meetin' best, 

 Neglectin' nothin' urgent, understand, 



about the place, 



But simply slowin' down a bit, an' restin' 



in the race! 

 In time I'll get the windmill I've been 



wantin', I suppose; 

 The girls can have their organ, an' we'll all 



wear better clothes. 

 For we've always pulled together, while we 



saved an' scrimped an' prayed, 

 An' it seems there's more to work for since 



we got the mortgage paid. 



Orange Jndd farmer. 



A PROUD FATHER. 

 The Kansas City Journal thus quotes 

 an old Misouri man: "I've a daughter 

 that's the handsomest young woman in our 

 town. She's mor'n that; she's smarter 'n 

 lightin' smarter 'n Jim Blaine. She 

 made the vale-o'-victory speech in high 

 school last summer, an' she's now learnin' 

 all about the shorthand pot-hangers in a 

 private business college. But I ain't 

 a-goin' to let her stop theer. By Jingo," 

 and he brought down his knife handle with 

 a bang on the table "I'll never, never let 

 up till her eddication is finished in the 

 best cemetery in the land. I guess I know 

 what life is, gents, and don't you forgit it. 

 I've served in the calvary myself for 

 mor'n five years, an' had a hand in the lit- 

 tle game over in Cuby. Any man that 

 served in Uncle Sam's calvary, and he 

 needn't be one of Rosey's rough riders 

 nayther, ain't worth a dose of this oyster 

 stew if he don't know life." 



A MONUMENT TO JENNIE WADE. 



There was unveiled last week on the 

 battlefield of Gettysburg a monument 

 which commemorates one of the most 

 touching and picturesque incidents of the 



