The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1893-04-28
Wards Words.


be wished, if the recent embroglio at the
State Agricultural College which seems to
have been set in motion by our worthy
citizen Jas. N. Mcbride, resulted in an un-
earthing relative to the management of that
somewhat superfluous institution.
Probably large majority of the tax
payers of the state have been satisfied for
years that the institution is an expensive toy
for farmers sons and others to play with
previous to embarking in trade, and now
they want dormatOry, or summer kitchen
built where farmers girls can go and be
educated as farmers. One is equally as
important as the other, and am in favor of
the co-education of the sons and daughters
of farmers, and doctors, and lawyers, and
dentists, and druggists, and professors of
religion of all sorts. If education is good
thing we cannot have too much of it, but
certain kinds of education are not good.
1t appears that the constitutional amend
ment relative to roads carried by a small
majority, and now let us have some sense
used in making our highways passable for
teams, relieve the poor deluded farmers from
the farce of ''rOad work" and improve the
value of their farms at one and the same
time.
Our local paper has blossomed out into a
respectable sheet. 1t would be unkind to
say that any change must be for the better,
but certain it is that there has been a de-
cided improvement in the character, quantity
and quality of its contents, and if the busi-
ness men of the town will give it proper
support there is reason to believe that the
young men who have it in charge will not
only succeed in keeping their names off from
the d. b. list but in gaining good lvlihood.
Everybody knows better how to run paper
than the editor himself, and so all efforts to
blow off his crown-sheet are, to say the
least, so much language lost.
The measley influenza still plaques the
people and makes life miserable for other
wise good and well meaning people. A
young man of smooth but somewhat intel
lectual cast of countenance stepped softly
into my Office the other night after every
other shop had closed, and as he peered
carefully around he inquired if there was
much of the grippe about. l told him yes,
that could supply him with it by the car
load. He said he didn't want any himself,
but he had written a poem on the subject
which he wanted me to send to some reliable
medical journal. 1t was entitled
THE GRIPPE.
The saddest girl that e'er drew treath-
At least it seemed to me-
Was one who laced herself to death
AT one and sixty three.
She didn't die, poor girl, but longed
For death to come at that
And end a life which simply thronged
With nothing else but fat.
One hundred sixty.three she weighed,
And daily raised her heft,
In spite of all the grief which preyed
Upon her soul-bereft
M every Joy and every bliss
So sad her wretched fate
She'd fatten on single kiss
No matter what she ate.
She fed on anti-fat year,
Ate coffee by the pound,
And laced herself all out of gear,
But nothing could be found
To touch her case or give her ease,
Untilwith pallid lip
She took to beer and Limburg cheese
And wound up with the grippe.
"Your best girl?" said inquiringly
"Well-yes," he made out to say, "and
thought the fact ought to be known"
"Intend to marry her9" 1 asked.
yes-if that fat dOnt come
back"
| "Well now," said /, ''you keep that treat
ment all away from her except the grippe o.
she'll have relapse sure"