Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-02-27
At the End Of the Rainbow.
IDLE PREJUDICE.
By WALT MASON.

Some of the merchants have more inn
pudence than is good for them.'' re-
marked the landlady. II asked the grocer
this afternoon if he had any fresh coun-
try butter. He said he hadn't he had
some first-class oeomargarine, and he
actually stood there arguing that oleo-
margarine is better than butter
Yet the grocer was right. my dear
Mrs. Jiggers," said the star boarder. Il
lived on a farm when 1 was a boy and
there they compounded the fresh country
butter of which you speak with emotion,
and when l recall the painful adventures
the milk underwent before it was finally
transformed into golden rolls, with the
farmers monogram stamped on top,
shudder 1 have nothing to say against
butter which is made In creameries or
glue factories or chemical laboratories,
but 1 have no patience with the butter
that comes from the country.
1T seems to me that the prejudice
against oleomargarine is foolish. Merely
because 1t is made in factory with a
tall smokestack and a steam whistle, the
plain people assume that it is compounded
of whale blubber. If an old farmer made
oleomargarine in shed back of his
stable and then brought 1t to town in a
basket, with a rhubarb leaf over it. the
people would waylay him as soon as he
reached town and shake their bank rolls
in his face and insist upon having every
last ounce of the stuff. 1t is time we
outgrew the superstition that everything
coming from the country is chaste and
wholesome and uplifting.
You. Mrs. Jiggers, have had enough
experience to teach you that the coun-
try is gold brick, but the old supersti-
ton is SO deeply ingrained that it would
| take a hundred years to convince you OF
the truth. L remember when there was a
coal famine in town and you came to me
and wept on my bosom like stricken
deer, for you didn't know what you were
going to do for fuel. I suggested that
you call up the wood dealer and ask him
to send out a cord Of his homeless stove
| wood. You thought the idea a good one
but expressed the conviction that all
| wood dealers were pirates. who made a
pastime Of robbing lone. lorn widows. You
would go to the market to see if there
wasn't an honest old farmer with load
of wood.
distinctly how passOnAtely l argued thai
all honest old farmers were whited
sepulchers whose mission here below is
| to hand out Dead Sea fruit as California
peaches. Nothing would shake your
faith in honest old farmers, however sc
you went to the market and there found
a hornyhanded agriculturist who was OF
fering a load Of wood fresh from the
country.
''In the cleaning. Mrs. Jiggers. when
the lights were burning low. l escorted
you out to your woodpile and showed
how the honest old farmer had bilked
you. His wood was all twisted like cork
screws and there were holes in the pile
you could have thrown a dog through
The neighbors net door had bought a load
of wood at the woodward ard you wep'
when you contrasted the two piles. You
have had scores Of such lessons, yet you
cling to your ancient faith in everything
that is fresh from the country.
There was a time when you grew
weary Of the sophisticated damsel who
| worked in your kitchen. and when q
maiden fresh from the country applied
for job at your back door you fairly
embraced her, and before she was here
half day you were asking me to cal
at the probate judges office and find out
what fofmalities were necessary to the
adoption of a girl. Having lost my illu-
sion long ago. l warned you against being
premature. 1 suspected that you were
warming a viper in your bosom and told
YOU as much, but you laughed me to
scorn At last you had hardmaider
who was all wool and yard wide. who
would not rip, ravel or run down at the
heel She was reared on the innocent
rural atmosphere and couldn't be any
thing but an angel.
II think it was three days later when
YOU reused me from a deep dream OIL
peace and asked me to hasten to the
pOlice station. for that harmless maiden
had flown from your humble room, taking
with her your gold-mounted halidom OF
some other heirloom. AS you remember
Mrs. Jiggers- 49,
"Oh. do quit raking up such things.
exclaimed Mrs. Jiggers, and remember
that the cream you are using too lavishly
costs money