Los Angeles herald., 1890-07-05
SOME OF LIES CROSSES.
Ills That Come to People Between
the Cradle and the Grave.

the Cradle and the Grave.
Pills. Corns Chilblains!
Widows who want beaux. Young
men who insist on counting girls who
want some other young man.
Toothache, soggy bread, tough beef
steak, poor relations, muddy streets,
smoking chimneys, bursted water-pipes,
plumbers, lightning-rod men, gentle
men who want to make contracts for
sewing-machines, organ-grinders.
Rich old aunts, who never die until
they are 80, and then will leave their
money to lunatic asylum, so that you
never can receive any benefit from your
lifelong expectations, unless you turn
yourself into a maniac and gd4 boarded
at the institution aforesaid.
Lies crosses take great many
forms. They march along day by day,
just as fast as you can bear them; and
you may fight them and rail at them
and swear at them, if you like, but you
cannot get rid of them.
All the money in the world will not
save you from the trouble which living
entails. Ii you are born into this state
of existence, and you cannot very well
help it, if it be SO decreed, you must
suffer it's inconvenience.
You must deal with flies, and mos
quitoes, and March winds, and house
cleaning, and fires that won't burn, and
the pump frozen up and your wife's 81
told you so,' and your husbands
'That's just like woman"
You must meet and conquer, or die in
the attempt, difficulties innumerable-
the contribution every Sunday for the
heather in Asia, and the same thing two
or three times a week for the heathen at
some other point of the antipodes.
And if you are an honest man, you
will save up your dimes with holes in
them for such interesting occasions.
For it is we'll known that the contribu-
tion-box never refuses anything offered.
You will have to bear with your neigh
boris hens in your flower garden; with
dogs that bark in the next yard to keep
away burglars with the musical efforts
of intinerary tom-cats; with children
which come a-visiting; with people
who know your business best; with
long-winded sermons; Without why
go on?
We have all been there and we know
how it is. We know that very little of
the machinery OF this world runs to suit
our own taste. 1t rains when we want
| to have picnic 1t shines when we
have set out our tomato and cabbage
plants; it thaws and spoils the sleighing
when that genteel Mr.. Jones has invited
us to ride; it freezes when the fire goes
out in the furnace, and all our plants are
ruined, and it rains, pouring, the first
time we wear our new summer-silk, and
that silk is reduced to the condition of a
mere dish-rag.
Somebody else draws the prize IN the
fair, where we have ticket--somebody
else gets the "beautiful moss-rose tea
set. valued at $780, which is given
away to purchasers Of ''our superior, teas
and coffees;" and the stocks we pur-
chase in that wonderful silver mine go
down to nothing week after we get the
certificates.
: We have aches and pains, and "olo-
gies," and ''monies," and disorganiza-
tion generally, and we get out OF
patience, and we wish we never had
been born, but we can't help it; and,
after all, the most afflicted and the
heaviest cross-bearing man in the world
had rather bear on little longer in the
hope that something better may turn
up. We are all Micawbers In. Y.
Ledger.