Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1903-01-08
TALES OF THE TOWN.
j. Getcher Gums Stories of the Week.
Copyrights Reserved.

CuduS0S Says n0 knew Ol d. COIHUIy
editor who dropped dead shoveling
snow. This is a very rare occur
renee. Most country editors can
not afford to have their capital tied
up in such luxuries as snow shovels
which are disable but a short time
in the year. Perhaps high living in
this regard and others caused the
editor to have apoplexy. Editors
should be very careful of their
health. IF they should all get out
and shovel snow and 60 cafumix
there would be no one to mould
public opinion. It would soon be-
Gin to mold Of it's own accord. That
would be disastrous. With no edi-
| tors to rub the moss and verdigris
off the public conscience everything
would soon go to pot and there
would be hades poppin' and no pitch
hot-as it were. The thing for an
editor to do when he finds that old
Boreas has powdered the face of
Mother Earth with snow is to slide
his varicose legs into his trousers
and grasp his pen while his patient
helpmate grasps the broom and
shovel. Between them they can
make the snow look quite i'll with
out endangering the editors life.
The beautiful snow is soulful topic
on which I have always desired to
line up with the brethren and slop
over few. But I have always held
that so long as an editor could find
something else to slop over about he
should leave the weather to the
man who has nothing else to write
about. Most any old scarecrow Of
an editor can handle the weather
and just to prove it I have jotted
down a few touching thoughts on
winter. Before reading it you
should put on your mittens and
turn down your earfaps:
Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow,
Filling the sky and the earth below;
Filling our collars, wetting our feet,
Nobody shovels it off the street,
Dancing,
Flirting,
Swimming along.
Beautiful snow! it does nOthin' wrong
Flying to kiss a fair lady's cheek,
Tt chings to her lips like a Hobsonite
freak.
Beautiful snow from heaven above,
Get your shovel and give it a shove.
How wildly the crowd goes swing
ing along,
Hailing each other with humor and
song!
How the gay sleighers like meteors
flash
Gibbering idiots, squand'ring their
cash.
Ringing,
Swinging,
Dancing they go.
Over the crust of the beautiful snow;
Striking snag they're dumped in a
heap,
And out of beautiful snowdrift
creep;
Cussing the luck, cussing the snags,
Shaking ''the beautiful" out of their
rags.
OH the snow, the beautiful snow,
How the flakes gather and laugh as
they go!
How the small boy in his longing
for fun,
Keeps the chance passerby on the
dead run.
Chasing,
Laughing,
Hurrying by,
1t lights on the face and sparkles
the eye;
1t covers the streets, the yards and
the roofs,
And is tracked in the house by
everyOne's hoof;
But it makes a nice poultice to thaw
Out the heels
Of the man who wades through it
to get to his meals.
am quite sure this will appeal to
all lovers of winters joys. And
who does not, for time at least,
love the crisp cold days when blood
tingles and eyes snap and freight
CLOVIS thro' frosted window panes?
When
"Keen and cold is the wintry blast
AS the sleet and snow go driving past:
There's strife in the old trees racked and
| bent,
The clouds hang low DER the armament,
But the household gathers safe and warm,
Folded close from the freezing storm;
The lamp is lighted, the hearth is bright.
And the dear ones are coy indoors at night"
How joyously we heralded such
scenes in haDDv childhood when all