The Evansville daily journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ia. [i.e. Ind.]) 1848-1862, 1859-07-13

sG- 1t would be a curious addition to
literature, could there be collection made
of all the queer advertisements that have
ever appeared in newspapers, ancient and
modern. And however quaint things one
may find by looking over old newspapers,
we think they would be eclipsed in odity::by
some things found in the columns OF news
papers Of the present day. In looking over
some old scraps and laid-away papers, the
other day, our eyes fell on a queer adver-
tisement found in an old copy of paper
called the Weekly Commercial, published at
the village of New Boston, Illinois. The
announcement was as follows:
any wife and have an attack of some
thing that we fear is old age. 1t looks like
it, and feels like it. Has been coming on
for some time, and gets gradually worse
every year. We fear we shall not get well
while on the farm.
Said complaint is doubtless worse in con-
sequence of our always having been hard
workers. But we can't stand the hard
knocks any more. We have no help only
as we hire, and are going to sell our home
that we may find time to die"
The subscriber then goes on to enumerate
the qualities and advantages of the old
homestead, such as its beautiful groves, fine
orchards, running water, good buildings, the
clear spring, garden shrubbery, flowers, &c,
two hundred acres of land, and all within
sir miles Of New Boston. And this happy
little kingdom the unhappy owner proposes
to abdicate and retire from, and very likely
move into the town of New Boston, settle
down in its dusty streets with q neighbor
looking into his dull windows, perhaps talk
ing over his head. Strange droves Of noisy
children squalling about his doors, and
strange broods of chickens scratching in his
diminutive, sun-burnt garden. patch. What
sad error in the philosophy of living, this
old farmer and his wife are about to perpe-
trate --Fz5 a'sTo.
Their butter was sweet and golden in the
country, the milk pure and cool from the
spring house; when they get to New Bos-
ton they will find the article in market
spotted with the Ieprosy of unclean vendors
and rank as the odors of the gutter in front
of his gate. The milk, too, will be brought
round in tin can, creamless, and as badly
affected with the "blues" as the old farmer
and his wife soon will be. The old man
will set out two walking sticks of trans
planted dwarfishneSs for shade, each side
of his gate, which will futter two leaves
apiece AS he passes thinking, with sigh, o.
the forest grove that wooed the summer
wind and sheltered the summer birds besid,
his farmhouse door. t
1--WE fear we shall not get well while OIL
the farm" Deluded old man. Old 40,
found him and his silver haired compan
ion IN the country walk about with pur,
air, securely garrisoned in his stone house o
comfort filed with bountiful supplies, ant
he proposes to evacaate the fortress and a,
to New Boston. All, good people, old ag'
willquicken its pace when you get to town
They propose to sell their home that they
may lind leisure to die. As il they had no
time to die in the country, and as if Their
wasany spot in the wide world more fitting
to hail from in the journey to the othe
world than country home-a home in tn
bosom of nature, the home their own labo
had adorned and their own memory hallow
ed. We have often fancied that of all ths
host of travellers who, at the end of thei
earthly pilgrimage, shall arrive at the ca
lestial Gates and knock for admittance, III
greatest number unto whom those Code
Gates shall be opened win be from gree
country grdces from sleeping places in III
orchards; from beside rustic chapels an
school houses; from the sunny side of gree
woods; from the pleasant, hills their ow
hands have furrowed and marked out
their last resting spot. -s7-i 20
Leisure to die poor creatures; whe
they get TO town they will, indeed, ha,
nothing else to do but die. They will ha,
plenty of time to. get sudden colds an
rheumatism-to- become bilious from ba
food, bad water, and poisonous malaria.
Perhaps they viii go cut once in viii
TO see "the old place" Not that they col
feSs they do not like the to,cn they have CHI
sen, but then the orchard, you know Il
old man planted it, named the trees in
and waited for them To grow : and Il
cold messy well, and the running sprin
and the pleasant shade; the old-fashion
ere, the apples in the cellar, the wheat
his own raising, the homemade butter, /
hocks, his woods and fields, his "elbo
room in the country-he misses all the
rs the years wear on, and by and by he co
clndes that truly "God made the count
and man made the town; and, perchan
he arranges it to return thither, just to
by himself out OF the noise OF the wca
tOwn-he and his old wife.
The red and yellow leaves come slow
fitting down from the trees around the {
.