The Green Forest tribune., 1910-08-19
John BuelPs Optimism.

John Buel's Optimism.
 There are but few people in this world who do not complain of 'bad luck" Few there be who do not admit that their ''luck is bad" at times and fewer still are there who believe that they are at all times in the favor of the god of fortunes.
 John Buell. comes very nearly being one of the rare specimens of the latter class. John has things his way oftener than any other man coming under the narrowly circumscrbed limits of our general observation. Literally, John doses out to himself just little bit more than his share of the good things that go to contribute to the happiness and comfort of man on this side and it isn't putting it a whit too strong to say that his conscience often annoys him not a little over his partial construction of air castles.
 Now for instance John said to us the other day:
 "Do you know that there is better breeze around that Lee Smith place out there than there is anywhere else about this toWn?" You see, John has just bought this place and is improving it for home-until he gets it fixed up and somebody takes a notion to buy it. But that isn't what we started to say.
 This happy utterance came from John just after he had returned from his new ranch with his hat band burned in two, one shirt sleeve torn out and his face looking like a sauce pan made of copper He had been burning out stumps with the thermometer reg istering a.
 The remark about the breeze remind ed us that John has always been crea- ture of circumstances. In his mind S eye he has always been granted eXcep- tional favors. About twenty years ago John owned apair of little, old, stripped legged mules, which consisted of about all his earthly possessions at that time, but they were good ones, according to Johns notions. They could pull bigger load of lumber across Brawley noun tain than any other team of donkies in the country, besides they ate less and kept slicker for the amount of currying than those of any other lumber hauler that drove up and down the Piney route. One day they ran away with John and scattered load of lumber for three miles down the mountain, and came in an ace of putting John out of business. But that is another story.
 Thus, you will find John on most everything. He actually thinks he has made his place on Scott street the incest in town, and that is fact. But there is old Lucy, his old gray mare. He believes she is the best bunch of "hoss' flesh ever wrapped up, and all that sort of business. She is fine old critter, none better, in fact, but what is the use of John being so foolish?
 Whatever you may say about Buell., however, he is consistent. If he says it once, he never goes ''back upon" it. He swears to this very day that those dinky old mules were the hot stuff, and notwithstanding the scars he can show on account of their waywardness, he admits that they were safe enough for a woman to drive. It was all his own carelessness.
 The moral to this story is that optimism, no matter of what variety, pays. It has, we believe, paid John Buell. financially as it has served a great lubricator for his stiff joints, and it has assisted him in the accumulation of a wealth of friends, for the kind of optimism John has is absolutely devoid of envy. If there is anything John en- joys better than succeeding himself, it is to see his friends and neighbors get along. If it wouldn't be an unpardon- able violation of custom to save all the flowers for the dead, we would like to pitch John boquet that would bring an everlasting smile to his not overly handsome face, for the truth of the matter is we like his brand of optimism and his peculiar manner of dispensing