New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1917-04-15
The Lure


chOOSng-haS gone into the HaSsett House
bar. Plain cider, is It? Al, then he plays a
crafty game.
The four men at the other end of the bar are
natives Of Apple End, indubitably. The hands
with which they raise their beer glasses are
large and calloused, the knuckles large, the fin
ger nails worn away to narrow bands all
broken and shape,ess. Their faces are bronzed
and of the texture Of the leather that goes into
army shoes. Outdoor men they are. for GER
tain The country surrounding Apple End is
distinctly agricultural in character We put
two and two together. They work on farms,
They are here in the bar Of the Hassett House,
dallying with beer because the season is win
ter-the season Of the soil ter's respite.
They look not unlike sheep-not enough I'M
like the ingenious wool-bearer at any rate, 20
spoil the fgure-and here is the wolf creeping
toward them. Could we whisper a warning!
Too latei John J. Smith is introducing him
self, shaking hands all round with. bluff
heartiness that dishonors good fellowship.
Drink up"
John j. Smith talks rapidly, but smoothly.
The conversation becomes his monopoly, de-
ivered by popular vote. He scintillates. Rus
tic outbursts Of laughter Indicate the advent
of the storytelling stage. 1t is but phase.
1t passes. John J. Smith is serious now. The
audience is spellbound as any that ever listened
to the owner of a distinctive waistcoat on his
favorite topic.
Into the inside pocket Of his coat steals John
J. Smiths left hand. The papers are intro
duced. One is passed to each of the four.
John J. Smith offers his fountain pen.
Three signatures are the fruit Of a minute.
The fourth hesitatcs, with pen poised.
But sposin' l don't like it?'
Very good says John j. Smith, loudly
enough for US to overhear at the other end of
the bar. Very good, then. Don't sign.
There's plenty thatll want to- and | don't
know now but what I've got enough. Remem-
Der what told that's all.'
Four of the papers bear signatures when
John J. Smith returns them to his pocket.
1t isn't hard to guess the rest. The papers
very much contrary to the belief of the simple
men who think they've just bought one Of the
Tinko Can Company's new $50 monographs at
the special Introductory price Of $1.S5, are
sxty-day notes for 5000 apiece. Presently Mr.
Smith will discount them at the Apple End
State Bank and be on his way.
1t isn't hard to giess-no. But, unfortu-
nately for our theory, Mr.. Smith isn't that
sort of person. His real name is John j.
Smith, if you must know, and he really comes
from Bankport, in the State of Connecticut.
His alligator bag contains a change of linen, q
safety razor and another vest Of different color
scheme but equally remarkable. Neither in the
bag nor in his pockets is there wooden pea or
walnut shell. The nearest thing to these i'm
plemerts is an extra supply OF forms such as
he drew in blank from his coat pocket and put
back signed on the dotted line. They are
forms of contract between the Connecticut
Can Company Constable Candy would wag
his head over that-and party Of the second
part, by the terms Of which said party Of sec
ond part agrees to give to said party of first
part his services at the rate Of 81 per diem.
John J. Smith with his vest and his mus
tache and his brown derby, knows not romance.
He is just one Of the cleaners who are clean
ing up what loose labor remains in the country
to take the places Of those whom big wages
have ured away TO make munitions for the
Allies.
For every signature that Mr.. Smith, and
hundreds of other Smiths and Joncses and Rob-
insons get as they comb the country for
hands" we must suffer. Farmers do not dare
to enter into competition against the factories
and their millions. In these days Of high
priced everything, factory labor at 81 a day
means profits TO the manufacturer. Farm
labor at 81 a day would spell ruin for the
farmer.
New York City depends largely on New Jer-
sey for its supply Of fruits and vegetables, and
it is Jersey that is suffering chiefly by the eff
forts of the cleaners.
Thousands of farmhands have been drawn
from Jersey into the factories Of their own and
other states how many thousands has yet TO
be learned. From every section Of the state
appeals have deluged the New Jersey depart
ment Of agriculture.
Cant you do something to help as hold our
men on the farms the farmers want TO know.
How are we going to plant our crops? How
are we going to weed? How will we harvest?'
Alvah Agee, secretary Of the department, is
now preparing appeal to industrial inter
ests to let the status and market value Of the
farmland remain "as is"
"As a matter Of national expediency," he
urges, manufacturers should look elsewhere
for unskilled labor. Every man taken away
from the farms means so much less in produc-
ton, and in tac present high prices and the
recent food riots we see now the country at