Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1907-02-05
MI S T AXES
Mrs. Candidate Still Can Make
Them.

The rural vote must be cultivated!
To this end, Mr.. Candidate bought
small farm for summer home, and
Mrs. Candidate, as a politicians wife
and ever interested in her husbands
affairs, entered enthusiastically upon
the duty of educating herself in it's
varied interests.
George" she began one hot day,
tanning herself with her sun bonnet
while she studied her husbands draw
Ing for an addition to the farmhouse,
when will you begin to build?"
"Never!" replied her husband from
behind Farmers Bulletin.
Good heavens!" exclaimed his wife.
"You surely don't expect me to spend
another summer here without more
room, do your"
Mr.. Candidate laid aside his Bulle-
tin, carefully selected another and re-
sumed his reading without replying
to his wife's question.
Mrs. Candidates indignation grew
as she watched him.
Really, George" she said, her voice
vibrating with resentment, "am TO
interpret your silence as refusal to
make any explanation of this extra
ordinary change of plan?"
You wouldn't like the explanation
after it was made. Matte" said her
husband, continuing to read.
of course, that means, George"
said his wife, bitingly, that the ex.
PLANTATION involves some criticism of
me-"
Mr.. Candidate read on.
We'll, George" said Mrs. Candi-
date, SO offended that her voice trem-
Died, you wouldn't treat me with such
scant courtesy if l were one of your
constituents
My constituents are more careful
OF my interests than you are, Matte"
said her husband, CURLY.
Mercy, George!' exclaimed his
wife, actually suffering with surprise.
How can you say that, after all I've
zone TINS summer to make you-well,
solid with the country voters.'
Mrs. Candidate paused. Mr.. Candi-
date read with an obliviousness that
thoroughly aroused her.
Look at this hideous dress" she
exclaimed, her voice thrilling with in
dignation, and this check apron and
this sun bonnet that I've worn to i'm
press the farmers wives and daugh-
ters!"
Mrs Candidates voice broke with
the pathos of her sacrifice. Mr.. Can.
d1date preserved a sphinx-like silence.
Don't l churn publicly under the
big tree in the back yard every morn
ing Just to show that respect labor,
and didn't we put the hennery right
next to the public road so that every
body could see that wasn't too proud
to feed the chickens?"
The climax found Mrs. Candidate
GREATNESS and Mr.. Candidate still un-
provoked to speech.
III you can deny all this, George, y
resumed his wife, with a majesty of
brow suited to Lady Macbeth herself.
i haven't another word to say"
Mr.. Candidate rose and took several
turns up and down the shady gallery.
We'll, Matte" he finally said, with
the air of one who reluctantly yields
to pressure and performs disagreed
Bile duty, what did you say to the
leading dairyman of the county yes
terday?" Pausing in his promenade
and looking intently at his wife.
Mrs. Candidate became suddenly
limp.
II see, Matte said her husband,
resuming his walk, that you can re-
call as distinctly as l do your state
ment to that dairyman that you con-
sidered it unrefned, even vulgar, to
sell milk"
Mrs. Candidate hung her head
Now, Matte" he continued, with a
district attorneys manner; what did
you say the day before to Mr.. Poul-
terer?"
Mrs. Candidate dropped among the
Farmers Bulletins completely I'M
strung
We'll, George" said the wife, with
an effort, "the very moment l told
him that | didn't see how anybody
could eat the kind of chickens he
raises, saw that had made a mis-
take" and Mrs. Candidate frightened
little with the confession.
Indeed" exclaimed her husband,
with sarcastic information that made
his wife subside again.
Perhaps You understand now, Mat
tie, why l have abandoned all idea of
spending our summers en- this farm
and Mr.. Candidate, with the calm of
desperation, filled his pipe and lighted
1t, while Mrs. Candidate reflected bit
terly upon her many vain sacrifices
to the prejudices of the country
voters.-Washingto Post.