JOBE CHEERS UP.
JOBE’S aunt Jane out in Indyana is dead. The poor, dear soul worked hard
all her life, and now she is dead. She had been takin care of a rich
inverlid for some twelve years, and got two dollars a week for all that
time. By livin plain and not goin anywhere for all that time, she has
saved $563, and she has left all her savins to Jobe, her only kin, the
lawyers out there write us.
[Illustration: Aunt Jane.]
We got a letter from them last week sayin she had died of a suddent, and
left Jobe all she had, arter payin her buryin expenses.
Jobe has been more like hisself, ever since he heerd she was dead, than
he has been for some time.
He now says that if he lives to vote for McKinley it will be the
happiest moment of his life. I hope Jobe will live.
As soon as he got that letter he started out agin to try to borrow
enough money to pay off Mr. Richer’s mortgage before foreclosin day. He
found one banker at Canal Dover who said he would let him have $1,800 at
seven per cent. interest, jist to commodate Jobe. Jobe is a goin to take
it, which, with what he is to git as his dead aunt’s heir, will make the
money Congressman Richer is wantin so bad, and a little besides.
Jobe went to town yisterday to try to stop the foreclosin bizness until
our legicy money comes and we can git the other from the bank at Canal
Dover.
[Illustration: “He would call him ‘Billy,’ in honor of the next
president.”]
They told him down to the court-house that they would try to “stave it
off.”
Jobe said that when the report got out that he was about to git a legicy
everybody wanted to shake hands with him and be friendly like.
Even them canderdate fellers, what acted kind a cold durin our
foreclosin trial, come around smilin, Jobe said, and shook hands, and
said that “they knode it would come around all right,” that “a man never
loses anything by votin the strait ticket.” They told Jobe to “cheer up
and git ready for the next election,” and all sich stuff. Jobe he come
home declarin that the Republican party was the “grand old party” of the
universe, he was so puffed up like.
Last night I actually heerd him whistlin one of them campaign tunes,
while he was a feedin of the calf. When the calf got all the milk out of
the bucket and looked up at Jobe lovin like, Jobe patted him on the head
and told him he was a nice feller and looked so knowin, like McKinley,
that he would call him “Billy,” in honor of the next president.
Jobe then started to the house a whistlin agin, when William came at him
stiff-legged, and struck Jobe on them election patches I put on his
pants, and knocked Jobe down on his hands and knees, and before Jobe
could git up, William hit him agin, knockin him clear down. Jobe turned
over on his back and begin to strike at McKinley with the bucket, sayin,
“You dum rascal,” or somethin like that. He then clamered to his feet
and took arter the calf, kickin as hard as he could kick. The second
kick he missed the calf and fell. Then I hollered at him.
[Illustration: “Before Jobe could git up William hit him agin.”]
He got up, put his hand on his hip and limped to the house. When he come
in says he:
“Ile kill that dum calf if he ever acts that way agin. He like to a
broke my hip.”
“Why, Jobe,” says I, “dident I jist hear you namin him for the leadinest
Republican of the State? Dont you know he was jist a givin you a
practical lesson in polerticks? Dont be mad, Jobe,” says I, “youle be a
lovin him tomorrow with all your heart.”
At that Jobe went into the room to git the bottle of salvation oil,
mutterin somethin as he went about me not havin any sense.
Now, isent it a fact that the polerticians and officeholders have been
actin like that bull calf toward Jobe and his likes for years?
Haint they been lookin into the face of the taxpayers pleasin like jist
before every election? Haint they been buttin the life out of the people
that feed them by increasin salaries, and makin taxes higher, and sellin
out to rich trusts and sich, ever since the war?
Haint they made law on law agin the poor and for the rich?
Haint they issued bonds on top of bonds, to the rich people and on the
poor?
Haint they raised salary arter salary of officeholders when the people
never asked it?
Haint they brought us to a gold basis and made it hard for people to pay
interest and mortgages?
Haint they made it easy for the money-lender to foreclose agin the
borrower?
Haint they destroyed millions and millions of the people’s greenback
money?
Haint they demonitized silver?
Haint they done everything agin the people and nothin for them?
And what has the people to show for all the money they have destroyed,
and salaries they have increased, and mortgages they have foreclosed,
and bad laws they have made, but hard times and debts, and people
without homes, and cheap wheat, and low wages, and high interest, and
big taxes, and foreclosin, and beggin, and the Lord only knows what all?
Yet Jobe and his likes will vote the strait ticket, and I suppose will
keep a votin it until the bull calf knocks their brains out.
What has Jobe and his likes got to show for all the votin they have
voted? What, I say!
If we can save our farm, and if we raise enough to pay the interest and
taxes this year, and a little besides, I am a goin to git me a pair of
them bloomers and go to workin and votin for more good laws and less
polerticks; and the fust polertician that comes around our house talkin
“party success” and “party principles” Ile kick clear into the middle of
the big road—Ile do it if I split them bloomers from waistband to
waistband in doin so.
[Illustration]