G. B. CUTLER SEED CO. 
cold and stiff with their feet in the air. 
Can you tell me what is the matter ?” 
She received the following letter: ‘‘Dear 
Madam: Your chickens are dead.” 
Mrs. Jones couldn’t understand why the 
baby chix should die so she asked the 
neighbor lady and she replied: “Well, 
what do you feed them?” “Feed them!” 
Mrs. Jones said, “why, nothing. Isn’t the 
hen’s milk enough for them at first?” 
Now Mrs. Jones had an awful time and 
she worried a lot but here’s an example 
of the way most of us are: First farmer 
(who had a college education): Which is 
correct, “A hen is sitting or a hen is 
setting?” Second Farmer: “I don’t know 
nor care. All I bother about is when she 
cackles—is she laying or is she lying?” 
Previous years I have written a little 
of my life history but as .long as no one 
has ever offered me a medal for writing 
the best “Farmer boy makes good in the 
city’’ story, I guess I’ll omit the details. 
Last spring a young fellow came to me 
and said, “Mr. Cutler, your daughter has 
promised to be my wife.” I said, “Well, 
don’t come to me for sympathy, I knew 
something would happen to you hanging 
around the house every night.” That was 
in the spring and again this fall another 
young man came to me asking if he could 
marry my other daughter and I told him 
to ask her not me. Evidently she, too, 
said “yes” for now I am minus two daugh¬ 
ters. Now that they’re off my hands per¬ 
haps I can settle down to the seed business 
and maybe save a few nickels because 1 
doubt if the old-age pension will be in 
force when I reach that age so it’s up to 
me. Those two young men must never 
come to me now and complain ’cause I 
—6— 
