Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1881-07-28

Il thought this was the potato patch
'' So it IS" said she
"Wheres" said he.
"Where you are standing. You're
knee-keep in potato vines now" said
she.
Said he. GOOD gracious! Thunder,
Why. these are not potato vines. These
are weeds. This is skunk-cabbage.
And you have hoed this?''
Yes" said she, IL hoed all the
nasty weeds that came up around
them"
"Why. you've hoei away the potato
plants and left this skunk cabbage he
squealed.
~ thought | was hoeing the pota-
toes. and that they were doing all 50
nicely and so much better than the
onions, because that dreadful fern has
got among the onions" said she.
FIGHTING WEEDS.
He got his big hoe and she her little
hoe. and together they siashed skunk
cabbage till dark. They arose at five
the next morning and pitched again
into skunS-cabbage, and. by breakfast
time, the few potato vines she had ACCT
IDENTITY missed had a faint chance for
life. Meantime the kitchen garden and
life in the country went on and on.
Other weeds industriously sprang up all
over the garden. The mosquitoes came
thicker and thicker. Did they light a
lamp at night, millions on millions of
small winged things lost-their lives try
ing to put it out. Strange insects.
winged, horned. clawed, fanged and
pronged came into the house, got into
their bed, into his boots, into her Slip
ders. Frogs croaked in the cellar.
For a week they were occupied in forth
flying the windows with mosquito nets.
Three times a week the butcher brought
scraggy pieces of meat from the city.
for which they paid the highest price.
The only store was a mile away on a
sandy road. All this. added to the
weeds. kept her very busy She began
to think that rural life looked best in
a book. They had fifty-twO hills OF po-
tatoes. a. wonder if this patch will
raise us enough to last all winter" he
asked of her as they were going into
the house one evening. both pretty tired
from hOeing skunk-cabbage. Il guess
So" said she, "but if they'd only grow
as well as skunk-cabbage we might have
some TO SELL" just then an agricultur-
al neighbor, passing the house, called
out to them: 'Got any bugs yet?'
She turned up her nose.
"Bugs?" said he. "Of course not"
what rude question:" said she.
"All the folks around here have got
en-" said the native. beds full of
EN-"
They did not hear him say potato
BEDS" The native continued: paris
green is the best stuff to kill 'em. We
sprinkle it on our beds every day."
"Why, l should think it would ruin
your sheets and pillow-cases," said she.
"Sheets? Pillow cases2 Hawi Hawi
Hawr' roared the native. "POtato bugs
don't trouble EN-"
LIGHT DAwNs.
"Ohr' simultaneously remarked he
and she as the true light stole into their
brains. Then they went and examined
their potato vines. They were covered
with potato bugs. Millions! 81 saw
them last week." said she, 'but
thought they were ady-bugs-at least
\ bigger kind of lady-bug."
1--WE must pick them Of" said he,
81 to save the potatoes. You must COM
nence picking our crop of potato bugs
o. morrow. What have you got to pick
hem imp
Nothing" said she, "save the milk
pitcher"
milk pitcher 1t is" said he. "Des-
oerate diseases, desperate remedies. |
We must commence o-night."
She brought out the milk pitcher. |
together they picked it full many
lines and emptied the bugs in the bah !
bling brook which ran by their cottage,
which babbling brook carried many
If the bugs to the green potato fields |
ii their neighbors, and left them there
live. They seemed to have picked all
he bugs of their vines that night. set
was not so. On arising and going /