Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1903-10-07

the lap or summer ike an OIQ
maid in the arms of a widower.
Along the streams the golden rod
is nodding in the breeze and the
wild rosebush bears aloft it's berries
red as witnesses of glory passed
away and only here and there an
old bull thistle waves his purple
head like the panache of knight
and fingers while his fellows stand
as barren stalks. Now too the
barefoot boy has ceased to wear
a stub upon his toe and scratch
his hives and fight the humble bee
and suck the honey from it comb
with swollen face. Across the
land grim rows of fodder stand
like wigwams of the red man in
his village street and golden pump
kins dot the fields like freckles on
an Irish girl. According to the
calendar the fields are brown and
scar, the trees are turning red and
gold and Maria needs a winter
wrap. The youth and maid who
all the summer long have held a
hammock down now HE
back into the parlor-there to sit
and sip the nectar from each others
necks. The rabbit too is putting
on a little flesh, the green back
frog sits on the bank to sun him
self more than of old and the gopher
fills his granaries with corn. All
of which reminds me that the sea-
sons change and I must don my
thicker underwear.
know it's autumn for the golf
fend stalks about the fields in
search Of balls and holes and other
things the which presist in sta ying
some place else. Wherefore I am
constrained to say man born OF
woman is a fool-he takes it from
his dad. He learns to chew and
smoke and drink and swear and
in an evil hour he learns the game
of golf and -then-his ruin is com
plete. For when he seeks to swat the
ball a mile or so and win the
wild applause of these who watch
he drives it nineteen feet into
| a crawfish hole and mayhap har-
rows up the greensward with his
nose besides. He goes to fetch it
with an eye upon the spot at which
it lit and tears his raiment getting
through a barbwire fence-the
while the recreant sphere sneaks
down the pike and hides beneath
bunch of grass at least eight rods
from where it struck. When worn
out with the search he offers re-
ward for it's recovery and an
urch1n with wart upon his paw
and a scab upon his nose discovers
it beneath his very hoofs. He
gives ten cents and a cussing to
the boy and swats the ball into a
sinkhole in the creek whereat it
disappears with a sadly soulful
sweetly solemn PUNK and is never
seen again. If it does not this it
does some other strange cratic
thing which causes wicked man
to lose enough morality to keep up
three campmeetings for a year.
I'm not much Of a naturalist but
I believe we are going to have an
early winter and long hard one.
The field mouse which all sum-
mer has pastured upon the clover
fields is already trekking to winter
quarters with his numerous brood.
At least-one lady tells me her
home is overrun with them. She
says they have come into her
house from the garden by the
thousands. I tried to get her to
cut it down to hundreds but she
insists it was thousands. Says they
have eaten the paper from the
pantry shelves, chewed the bris-
ties off the brussels carpet and car
ried away the filling from the
upholstered furniture to make
their winter nests. Various ways
have been tried to rid the premises
of them, but all to no avail. The
best way to remove mice from
pantry is to procure ten cents worth
of yellow sulphur and a small
skillet with a long handle. Sprinkle
the sulphur all over the shelves
and floor, close the door softly and
steal away. When the mice come
out of their holes to see what
you were doing-go in and bang
them over the head with the
skillet, mash them into the floor
and bat them against the wall.
They may then be taken by the
tail and removed. A fire shovel
may be used instead of a skillet.