Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1908-12-10
Percy and harold
Their Adventure i'm
Sweet Potato Patch

The hoboes were comfortably reclin-
ing against tree in shadeful woods.
One of them was reading a newspaper
and the other was thoughtfully putting
on short clay pipe. The bandanna
handkerchief that contained their
wardrobe was hanging on bush, and
close by We're the rations that had
been accumulated along the back-door
route
Percy, old fellow" remarked the
smokeful tramp, lazily pushing piece
OF wood on the fire with his foot so
that he wouldn't have to get up, 81
have just been thinking Of the poor.
Did it ever occur to you how greatly
! they must envy US? Did it ever occur
to you"
1t has, indeed, Harold" interrupted
Percy, glancing UP from his newspa-
per, "and while l deplore their condi-
ton, can see no way in which it eau
be helped. AS long as the world en-
dures there must necessarily be differ
ent classes Of society. There must be
the rich and the poor, and sometimes
1t grleves me that the less fortunate
cannot camp in the woods as we are
camping and enjoy a life that brings
one SO close to the glory of nature"
That's right dear chappie," yawn-
FULLY assented Harold. There is moth
ing like camp life I would rather lis
ten TO the song of the birds than the
I seven o'clock whistle any day in the
week. By the way, what are the Fred
die Smiths and Billy Swintons doing?
The last time 1 was at the club Fred
die"
They are camping, too, old fellow"
interjected Percy "Freddie's party
is in the Adirondacks, and the Billy
SWlntons are in the Catskills. This
paper gives quite an account of their
camp, as we'll as picture Of dear
Mrs. Freddie in the act of landing a
fish from the lake. She is
Every time see Mrs. Freddie"
smilingly broke in Harold, 81 think of
bale of hay If she wasn't pressed
in and tied up she would occupy more
space than a circus tent
/ This camp life is making you shock
ingly rude, my dear Harold" said
Percy. why can't you act just as If
you were at the club or in your apart
ments? AS for dinner, we are having
roasted sweet potatoes tonight. A good
friend of mine who lives over the hill
yonder has a beautiful patch of the
tubers, and he insisted that | should
call on him and get some. We will be
starting just as soon as I have read
this delightful story about Mrs. Porter
Griggy, who takes her sweet little dog
Fido out in go-cart for an airing
every day at Newport"
Thus the conversation continued un-
til the woods grew dark, and then the
hoboes rambled down the road and
stealthily climbed over the fence into
the sweet potato patch of Percys dear
friend
Two minutes later they were indus
triously digging, and Percy had mined
five potatoes and Harold six, when a
farmer with wicied-looking gun and
a dog to match bulged from behind
the bushes.
I've got you goshdasted tramps at
last" said the farmer, raising the ham
mers of his gun and walking up to
the surprised hoboes, IAN if Their con
sarned coroner o this county was
Republican, instead Of a Dimmycrat,
would give him a job here right now.
L"
Pardon me-" put in Percy, who
quickly recovered his composure, "but
| would thank you to be more choice
of your epithets. / will have you know,
sir, that we are not tramps, but sci
entists, and that we are investigating
the different stratas of earth in this
locality with view of discovering a