can Agriculturist, February 9, 1924 
125 
“Too Mucha Da Tax” 
A Story About Equalizing School Taxes 
There’s no dew left on the daisies and clover. 
There’s no rain left in heaven, 
(■ ve S aid my ‘seven times’ over and over, 
-} I ‘Seven times one are seven.’ 
|m old, so old I can write a letter, 
My birthday lessons are done, 
|he lambs play always, they know no better. 
They’re only ‘one times one.’ ” 
T was “Piece Day” at Pleasant Ridge School 
and for the moment seven year old Amelia 
Dento occupied the center of the stage. It 
was a very solemn occasion. So many 
i’ts” to think about, and so many “do’s”. 
a r Amelia had to learn in school all the little 
s that her parents could not teach. How to 
ce if possible to an undiscoverable minimum 
goft Latin accent which was just as natural 
as the big brown eyes or the ruddy olive- 
W a skin. 
Iqw to forget the lump in her throat and the 
illing tears that just would not stay down when 
0 (playmates in all the cruelty of childhood 
■ted her with her foreign parentage. How to 
i Be American. 
lie elder Dento landed at Ellis Island from 
e ; outh of Europe in 1910. A sturdy lad of 
u Ity, po° r of purse but rich in hope, ambition, 
Jthe love of a girl in sunny Italy. 
[is name was something else then, but the 
[e kindly omitted several syllables when 
t papers” were taken out and he was told 
, he was to be known as “Tony” for short- 
Lo years under a contractor were sufficient 
>ring Camilla to his side. Then two years 
h she worked in a hotel kitchen for three 
ars a week and food and room for both, 
hen came the longing for the open, Baskim, 
snide real estate dealer, and the farm on 
isant Ridge. This place was one of Baskim’s 
liar meal tickets. It was good for a turn-over 
•y two years. A “down at the heels” farm 
l an empty barn, a half dozen scrawny cows 
a poor team. 
: was good bait for a sucker with a little ready 
ley. Regular terms were as much cash as 
Id be wrested from the unwary 
;omer, two years’ mortgage on 
rything in sight and half the 
ithly milk check “on account.” 
l year of half-hearted hopes and 
disappearance of any possible 
i balance was accustomed to be 
Dwed by a year of utter dis- 
ragement, debt, foreclosure, and 
place was ready for another sale, 
lut Baskim reckoned without 
ly and without Camilla. Also 
bout. Tony’s axe and the wood job 
the mountain for the Lime Com- 
iy. 
'wo years saw the mortgage 
uced to the point where the 
leral Land Bank was willing to 
idle it. They saw patches of new 
ugles appear on the barn roof, 
1 the six* scrawny cows had become 
it better ones. 
when the constant grind of 
iressing economy to avert possible 
eclosure was past, when the Dairy - 
n’s League established the price 
milk on a new level in the fall of 
16, and when little Amelia arrived 
o months later, it seemed that the 
ishine of agricultural prosperity 
s smiling with special favor on the 
nto farm on Pleasant Ridge. 
Too mucha da tax.” 
Tony’s simple protest found answer 
the heart of every man of the 
Pup which had gathered in the 
|tle store at “The Ridge” where 
local school collector was “sitting 
the collection of taxes”, on the 
jening of the same October day in 
123 when Amelia had proudly 
By FRANK H. LACY 
proclaimed that she was “seven times one.” 
“Well dog-gone it, don’t blame me fer it.” The 
patience of “William Andrews, Collector,” had 
reached the breaking point and he addressed the 
entire group rather than Tony in particular. 
“Haint a man paid taxes here tonight ‘thout 
kickin’ an’ argufyin’ fer half an hour. 
“Y’act’s if y’o thought I invented this hull 
durned tax bus’nis and was a’goin’ to run away 
with the money on top of it. 
“Gotta ed’eate yer young un’s ain’t y’u? 
“Gotta hev a school ain’t y’u? 
“Why in thunder don’t y’u send yer kids down 
to Poughquag if y’u don’t like to pay taxes. 
“Milk teams goin’ down ev’ry mornin’ ain’t 
the’ ? 
“T’wouldn’t hurt no kid to walk home three, 
four mile ev’ry night when ‘taint rainin.’ 
“Wha’d y’u ’lect me fer anyway? 
“Tol’ y’u I didn’t want it, did’nt I? 
“Wha’ do I git out of it? 
“I kin go skunkin’ couple a evenin’s and make 
more money in three, four hour then I kin mon¬ 
key’n with this here tax bis’nis a hull year.” 
Bill paused for breath. His rapid fire delivery 
brooked no interruption or argument even had 
any seemed in order. 
“Here, here, here, what’s agoin’ on now? 
“I’ll hav’ y’e locked up fer disturbin’ the peace 
or incitin’ to riot. 
“When I tol’ y’e could come down here and 
c’lect cash from my customers while they hung 
me up, I didn’t ‘low y’e was goin’ to start ‘nother 
world war.” 
The speaker emerged from the hatchway bear¬ 
ing a kerosene can. Squire Dolton, proprietor, 
justice of the peace, and general “man about town.” 
While his voice and manner were brusque and 
stern, his hearers, by the twinkle in his eye, knew 
that he was only masquerading and that he was 
secretly disappointed at having missed the setting 
of a drama which he had imperfectly overheard 
from the cellar. 
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“Now Bill, these boys has got a right to know 
what you’re a do’in’ and if they don’t understand 
it you tell it to ’em.” The squire spoke as one 
having authority. 
“Dog-gone it, they kin read can’t they. It’s 
all on the stub.” Bill’s manner was somewhat 
mollified by the Squire’s reprimand. 
“Naw, the Wop can’t read. Tell it to ’im Bill.” 
The speaker was MacCarthy, teamster, farm¬ 
hand and general roustabout who cared not a 
whit what the taxes might be, but who delighted 
in adding fuel to any argumentative fire which 
seemed to offer momentary diversion. 
Thus urged, Bill uttered a groan of protest, 
slowly hauled in his feet from the point where 
they had been sprawding on the floor at some dis¬ 
tance from his chair, deliberately pocketed the 
money which had been collected and arose. 
Even if Bill was going to do the job under protest, 
he evidently intended to do it well, possibly to 
save repetition. 
An assemblage of forks, shovels and pails was 
shoved into a corner. A dozen calendars and 
patent medicine advertisements, together with 
their supporting nails and tacks were removed 
from the side wall. A wide sheet of paper was 
brought from the roll on the counter to replace 
them. Mac contributed the stub of a lumber 
pencil from beneath his hat band and the demon¬ 
stration was ready to commence. 
“Well, in the first place, we’re not what yu’d 
term wealthy. That is none of us was ever seen 
a’goin’ out to dinner parties with J. P. Morgan, 
nor playin’ golf with Rockefeller. Fact is our 
total ’sessable property only ’mounts to $21,000. 
Just a dozen or fifteen little one-horse farms and 
nothin’ else to speak of. 
“We have to hire a teacher and have to pay 
just about the same runnin’ expenses as the Wha¬ 
ley Lake District where they have three or four 
mile o’ double track New Haven Railroad an’ a 
hundred or more camp sites an’ cottages, ’sides 
’bout the same number an’ quality of farms as 
ours. 
“You voted at school meetin’ to spend $1,424 
for school expenses. We get $662 
from the State, leavin’ $762 to be 
raised by tax. That gives us a rate 
of $36.28 on every thousand.” 
The items were slowly printed on 
the paper as the discussion progressed. 
“Course we get a little more State 
money than the Whaley folks but not 
’nough more to anyw ays near equalize 
taxes.” 
“Well I see Henry Ford’s bought 
the gauge plant over to P’keepsie.” 
The Squire had elicited this bit of 
information from the Semi-Weekly 
Eagle when discussion of school 
matters had drifted into detail. 
“Go’in’ to make his own gauges I 
9 99 
s pose. 
“Yes siree, that’s exactly what he’s 
go’in’ to do.” The speaker was Mac 
Carthy who seemed suddenly in¬ 
spired with a spirit of enthusi¬ 
astic proprietorship of the subject 
introduced for discussion. 
“Guess I ought ’o know r ’cause my 
ol’ man’s lived under the shadder of 
the chimney and fired boiler for 
more’n twenty years and knows all 
that’s go’in’ on. 
“Know why he’s cornin’ there? 
No school taxes. That is, none to 
speak of. Y’u see that plant ain’t in 
the city. It’s in the Spuykenkill 
District just outside the city line, 
’long with the Horseshoe Works and 
the big Delapenha preserving plant 
an’ four five miles of four track New 
York Central Railroad an’ a trolley 
road an’ telephone an’ telegraph an’ 
lectric light lines an’ the post road 
(Continued on page 188 ) 
Better 
Change His 
Seat or He 
Won’t Get By 
The First 
Question 
Courtesy New York 'l rioune 
