The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1877-10-18
would be another man. [ held a pillow


I was taken into machine shop and re-
built over as we'll as the machinist could
do the job. | have never seemed to
feel exactly right since, but I don't sup
pose ought to blame the man. He
said my arms were both pulled out of
their sockets. and was stretched out of
shape, and he did as well as anybody
could for me. [ shall not hold pillow
again as long as I hold my reason, and
when that leaks out of me it will not
matter much what hold or what holds
me.
No one can realize the charm of Dig
cling round big rock and getting a
chain under it, and twitching it onto a
drag, or of getting crowbar under it,
and lifting and straining on it, enough
to strain the whole Atlantic ocean, and
then Of having the bar slip, and the stone
roll back, barking shin or otherwise
bruising you, while you plunge forward
with force enough to drive your head
into the ground. I say no one can real
lze the charm of this unless he has sat
on fence, as have, and seen it done.
The bug problem to the farmer is a
stupendous one, It amounts to more to
small farmer than it does to the biggest
hotel proprietor in the country. A good,
smart chambermaid and bottle of
double B poison will fix bed so that
you can plant man at o'clock at night
and have to haul him out of bed with a
steam tug in the morning, he will sleep
so soundly.
The potato-bug is a native of the
West. He originated in the canons of
Colorado, and may be called an off-shot
of that section. The State is rammed
full and loaded down with them. They
formerly lived on wild plants, but one
Of them went up to Denver on little
pleasure trip, and at the hotel there he
had some fried potatoes, and they
struck him as being about the best
thing to quiet hunger he had ever light
ed on. He went home and advised his
brethren to go East, and they simply
packed up few collars and change of
clothing, and started. The potato-bug
dawns on the farmer very rapidly; he
sees his potatoes nicely up, their green
tops reminding him that potatoes in the
fall, at dollar bushel, are better than
a serpents tooth or a thankless child,
and he goes to bed dreaming of wealth
pouring in on him in burrows, and the
next morning he visits his field and sees
some red spots on the potato-vines,
about as big as pin heads. He notices
that they give rather genteel look to
the leaf. In day or two he sees these
red drops begin to grow, and then to
crawl, and in three or four days he goes
out and is so surprised at what he sees
that you could not paint his look OF
astonishment, nor even prime it
over one coat with less than bucket of
paint. He sees that the potato-bug has
arrived, and has brought his whole fam
lily and all his wife's 500 friends. He is
there with all his tools and implements
of labor. He sees bug about as large
as the letter 0, when it drops from the
lips of small boy, as he incautiously
sits down on an adult bull-thistIe. He
sees this bug laid off in stripes endwise,
like the marks OF a gridiron on slice of
broiled liver. He sees that what the
bug lacks in size he gains in quantity.
He is there and keeps coming. He has
as much mouth in proportion to his
length as the Amazon river or Soldene.
He can beat a horsefy laying eggs, and 7
have seen him do the job at the rate of
twelve miles an hour. The only sure
way to get rid of the potato-bug is to
move off somewhere else. A farmer told
me that he tried Paris green on his bugs.
He said he'd be hanged if he didn't use
up about a barrel of stuff and the, bugs
ate it all up, and in two or three days
they set up store in the corner of the
field, and advertised that they would
sell Paris green at retail cheaper than he
could buy it at wholesale. He said he
lost his confidence then in Paris green,
and gained corresponding amount of
confidence in the bugs.
Nearly all our great men were raised
on farm, and it is their especial de-
light in their speeches to mention the
fact, and remention it, and afterward al
Jude to it, and tell how happy they were,
and how they love the old place with it's
old farmhouse, and how they could1ook
back on their boyhood days and wish
they had never left the farm, and long
now to return to it and pass the remain
der of their days, and resign a $4,000
office and settle down and be happy
again.
I have listened to these speeches and
read them, and have spent two large
fortunes in trying to find solitary case
where one of these men ever left farm
and got rich, either by stealing or in
any other honest way, and then went
back on the dear old farm to live: and.
up to the first day Of July, T have been
unable to find one.
[ now have two of the smartest detec-
tives in the country looking after such a
man, and, in my humble opinion, they
will find Charley Ross several times be-
fore they find my man.-Geo. Il. Qui9s-
by, IN Boston Globe.
Belknap.
A Keokuk letter writer, who was late
ly introduced to ex-Secretary Belknap,
says g. cast a penetrating glance into
tho honIconon fnaf17rac boforo 49, o,1