Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1917-09-13
IN STRANGE CITY
Lot of One TTanSpIanted From
Small Town Is Hard.
You Can't Tell Whom You Want 20
Know Until You Know, Which
Makes Things Complicated.

IL gives you queer Keeling 10 De
suddenly transplanted from the little
home town to Il crowded city street
made up of houses, houses, houses,
| where you don't know soul, and never
expect to, says Il writer In the Indian
apolls News. City folk don't care who
lives across the street or next door.
| They have their friends scattered about
In various places where they can find
them when they want them. But we
small town folk lust wonder and Won
der who lives behind all those lovely
| front doors, and when we catch Il
glimpse Of the inhabitants we're inter
ested in them and wonder where they
came from and what names they all
| bear.
| II by chance we find, from the tcle-
phone directory, that the people just
| back of us wear the very same name
we wear, we wonder If they might be
some OF our long lost kth and kin,
and If we'd like 'em If we knew 'em
It's always risky business hunting up
| knfolk, so Wen not try 1t; but really,
the woman Is so pretty, and the baby
SO cunning, and the young man who
comes home in the machine at the end
Of the day is so proud Of both of them,
that we'd just like to say "Howdy-
you've got the same name we haveW
and take the consequences.
There's the two-year-old baby three
hgY Il tbn gfr hp hn,
tiny hand and calls "By-by" when we
pass. we'd like so to know her name,
and answer the friendly little greeting.
And there is the lonely boy across the
street, who isn't used to city ways yet.
He sits on the front steps with his
elbows on his knees and his chin In
his hands, the most detected looking
lump Of bOyhOod that you could mag
inc. You want TO cheer him up, and tell
him things will be better when he gets
acquainted. but how In the world Is he
to get acquainted? And the young
woman who walks up and down the
back yard of the house across the al
ley, carrying II tiny baby In her arms
and looking anxiOusly down Into Its
little fnce. If | was only Il little grayer
I'd risk assuming a grandmotherly air
and ask her IL the baby Is sick. And
there's the old man who sits on the
front porch Of the handsome house
nearer the car line. We can't decide
for certain whether he is sad or
grouChy--feelIng the bitterness Of hav-
| ing to live Off q son-ln-law--or wheth
er he is hectOring old duffer, worry
Ing the soul out Of his daughter-ln-law.
Back home we'd know all about 1t. And
the handsome woman who sometimes
buys fruit ON one slide of the Italians
cart white you're buying on the other
slde-you'd like to know her. or you
| think you would.
That's the trouble IN the city. You
can't know for certain whom you want
to know, until sou know--whiCh makes
things complicated. Gradually you
grow accustomed to the strange houses
and strange fnces, and form your own
ldens.
Gradually you get on speaking terms
with the shy baby boy next door, so
that when you so out on the back
porch he doesn't make wild dive for.
his back porch, but stands up in his
sand pile, waving his hands eXcitedly
while he tells you some wonderful riga
marolc about his bucket and spoon
and you find him quite MS loyable as
any baby at home.
The city throws the spell about you.
and you find II mighty interesting and
entertaining and you grow to love the
strange street because II seems home
after the little trips away from It, but
for country folk used to country ways,
| give us the home town, where every
house beams on us like familiar face
as we pass-where we know the people
behind the front doors, and love them.
lust because they are our home folk.