The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1894-04-26
CINE TOO" MEN.

says the Kansas City, Mo-, Kaws Mouth,
and their legs are hanging out of the
second story windows of perdition, be-
cause they didn't have industry enough
to do right, or moral courage to be
right.
The me too men are standing in
the winters blast, with their hats gone
to seed, soil in their whiskers, and their
pants chewed off up to their boot tops,
because they didn't have the nerve to
take the problems of life by the shout
der blades and solve them.
The me too man is the one who
hasn't any sand, and the world will
walk block out of it's way to kick a
man who hasn't any sand in his craw;
while it will touch it's hat across the
block to man who has success blown
in the bottle on his forehead.
Many men have their shoes run over
because they undertake to walk around
the hill, instead of climbing over it.
Lots of me too" men spend their
dimes and their time in the barrel houses
while their wives are rubbing bIisters
on their knuckles on the wash board,
and their children are eating cold crusts
and cheese parings in the back alleys
No man in his senses will choose such
a lot as this for the woman he has VOW
ed to heaven to love, honor and protect,
and for the babes she has borne him,
unless he is ''me too man. He grad
ually drifts into this by following others
who are further into sin, folly and
iniquity than he, and thinking they live
easy, the question gradually comes to
him then: "Why not me?" He gradual
ly drifts from the moderate spendthrift,
under the tunnel, until he becomes the
barrel house vagrant. His wife does
without butter and beef-steak, and his
little children without respectable cloth
ing, all to crafty the appetite and lazi-
ness of ''me too man. He drags
them on down the grade of depravity,
until the entire family haven't enough
in the house to feed a poodle dog, or
enough clothes on their backs to flag a
freight train.
The preacher who thinks more of the
salary of his congregation than he does
of the Lowly One, who called him to
preach the riches of eternal life, is a
me too" man.
The pollution who isn't me too
man, is generally out of office.
The man who likes the cigar stubs
and sawdust of bar room better than
he does the we'll carpeted, cosy fireside
of his wife and children, has the "me
too" rabies in their worst form.
The man who agrees with everything
you say to your face, and goes behind
your back and tells your neighbor that
you are an old gold idiot, is me too
man, who would trade balky mule
for Nancy Hanks and give hundred
dollars to boot, if that neighbor would
say so.
What we need to twist the cogs out
of the spinal column of this panic, is
sand. A backbone of public opinion
that will take dollar by the tips of it's
ears and put it in circulation. Then
we need a spinal column put into the
labOring man that will make him re-
solve to fight the battle of life for his
humble home, by laying by little
every week to buy his wife and childen
corn meal and coffee, instead of soaking
his salary in coffin varnish.
There are too many men standing
around on the street corners, whiting
deep missions in drygoods boxes, max
ing sighting remarks about every lady
that passes. and arguing that Rreckin.