20 THE WAR GARDEN VICTORIOUS 



slant jerk, all wives and kids and voters. I'm helping 

 out from day to day, with no delays or pauses, tobacco 

 funds, Y. M. C. A. and other worthy causes. I'm told 

 that war bonds I must buy, in twos and fours and 

 dozens, enough to make a full supply for all my aunts 

 and cousins. For war stamps, too, those signs of thrift, 

 I dig into my pocket, to give my Uncle Sam a lift in 

 cleaning up his docket. I'm taxed for building wooden 

 ships with good, old-fashioned rigging, and in my little 

 daily trips I'm constantly kept digging. I dig to pay 

 tobacco tax, and tax for railway travel. I'm always 

 chipping from my stacks; they keep me scratching 

 gravel. But I've no kick for those who come with all 

 their pleas beguiling. It never makes me sad nor glum. 

 They always find me smiling. I know that I'm too old 

 to fight; I can't be caught renigging. So I regard it 

 just and right that I should keep on digging. And then 

 besides, it's proved to me that every man is bigger if 

 he will teach himself to be a willing war-time digger. 

 It's not enough for us to sing about the joy of giving. 

 We've got to dig for everything we need to keep on 

 living. We've got to dig in our back yards for carrots, 

 beans, and 'taters; we've got to dig both long and hard 

 as garden cultivators. So take your trusty hoe and 

 spade and start your spring-time sowing. Just dig and 

 get a garden made and set the foodstuff growing. 



In order to catch the attention of the man in the 

 street, several striking posters were prepared by the 

 Commission and placed in conspicuous places in com- 

 munities in every part of the land. On bulletin-boards, 

 in railway stations, libraries, stores, at factory entrances, 

 and even in clubs, banks and commercial houses, these 

 striking posters met the eye. They were also repro- 



