Weekly graphic. [volume] (Kirksville, Adair Co., Missouri) 1880-1949, 1891-12-04
Mossback Miserable.

mUSSOdIh hlSClaOtCs
The author of "Childe Harold's |
Pilgrimage" declared his hair was
gray at thirty, and wondered what
1t would be like at forty. Had
Lady Byron been possessed of
Mrs. Mossback's skill with the
rolling pin, and had the noble
poet abided with her till reaching
that age, l have the sanction OF
experience for the assertion that
his halr would have been some
what after the fashion of angels
visits-few and far between. But
the rolling pin is not the only
thing | have encountered to regret.
AS | grow old, my annoyances In
crease to an extent that is beyond
the conception of the young.
What was first love compared with
my hunger for Office? What was
my first licking compared with my
political proscriptlon2 What was
the measles in comparison with
the torture that comes with an
hours bitter reflection? AS the
wintry south wind sobs for en-
trance at my cabin door, in fancy |
hea, the mocking chorus of the
heartless Multums, "What?' Yes,
yes. Age brings me sorrows l
never knew when WAS more able
to endure them. Youth may be
unhappy, butit is not miserable.
This world is several townships
too big for the man without a
trouble, and the only thing he can
do is to get out of it as quickly as
possible--or take up his grievance
and march with the procession of
unfortunates. Few men get
through the world alive, and few
hut can count the miles by mis-
cries. 1t keeps me pretty busy,
but | do all my own suffering and
considerable for other persons.
But my vicarious suffering for the
Multums is ended. By frequent
iteration Of this resolve | intend
henceforth to keep my will power
up to the sticking point. Mrs.
Mossback tells me my torments
are the legitimate results of my
habits. This is g. fair illustration
of "woman's intuition" which |
am bold to define as the faculty of
making mistakes. | am miserable
in my old age, because through
life l have been unlucky.
Winter is coming on, and [ am
unprepared for the boreal blast.
My cabin is in bad condition, and
L haye heard some threats of di-
vorce in case it is not repaired. [
have no money and my rheurna-
tism is worse than ever. All but
the little children are away from
home. Theophilus has gone to
his uncle il Ohio, and l must ask
the editor in future to correct my
manuscript. He Is getting good
wages as a book, keeper, and is
more strongly Republican than
ever. Theophllus would be my
favorite boy, if it were not for his
politics. My eldest son is gone L
know not where. He left before
court, because of an alarm among
the poker players of the vicinity.
Probably he has stolen his own
gripsack before this-I can't say
for certain. His mother says he
is chip off the old block. | con-
tend he resembles me in nothing
but politics. My other sons who
are grown are in various places,
mostly teaching school. If some
of them don't send me money
soon, [ am afraid it will be hic
jacet, old Solomon. An unthank-
full child is sharper than whole
set of serpent's teeth. I grleve to
think how my sons have repudiat.
ed their fathers politics, and de-
serted him in his old age. In the
words of the poet, they grew iu
beauty side by side, they filled ON
home with glee, but they are scat,
tered far and wide, and just one
votes like me. Half starved and
in danger of freezing, who won.
ders that myheart is!full of bitter.
ness toward the Multums? They
are building their elegant two
story bricks in Lancaster with
money paid them by the county
while [ am in the 'last ditch, as
Jefferson Davis POLITICALLY obserY,
ed once. Tomorrow is thanks.
giving-but for what may | be
thankful? | shall never taste &
turkey at the board of Multum
again. If time is going to make
things even, | think the occasion
is just about ripe. IL | don't die
of the blues before the next cam.
paign, Lancaster will howl as
Rome never could have done.
| nii1o,, Mat