The Winslow mail., 1921-06-03


comes along asking impertinent ques-
tlons as to how many children I have,
and my maiden name before 1 was
married, and whether there's insanity
in the family.
I'm sick and tired of answering
such questions. If my old friends
want to dig into my family history,
I'll give them all the information they
want, although I may consider their
conundrums in bad taste. but when
perfect stranger comes along and asks
me If do my own washing, | feel that
the line must be drawn somewhere.
Every jack in Office asks questions 1t
used to be that the assessor would
come to the door politely, and inquire
how many dogs we kept and take our
estimate of the value of our prop
erty without looking as though he
knew we ought to be prosecuted for
perjury. But now he must know the
color of your grandfather's side whis-
kerS, and if you tell him that you keep
no dogs he goes out and looks under
the house, and in the barn, and when
he comes back he warns you that the
penalties for giving false information
are severe.
'Mr. CurfeW says that the next
time the assessor comes, he is going
to throw him over the back fence and
kick him down the alley for dis
tance of seven blocks, and hope he'll
keep his word"
81 didn't mean to offend yOu," said
the stranger "Fm introducing wash
ing powder that saves half the labor,
and dispenses with soap altogether.
With this marvellous powder a woman
can do the weeks washing and have
her clothes hung on the hne, inside of
two hours
"Well, mister, you take a package
of your marvellous powder down to
the creek, and give yourself a good
scrubbing, for you look as though you
had been fishing out of somebody's
dustbin. Your whiskers are full of
sawdust, and your face is covered
with CRIME. If you were introducing
bituminous coal, there might be some
excuse for your appearance, but
man who is selling washing powder
ought to be Like the driven snow, or
nobody will have confidence in him,
"And I wouldn't have anything to
do with your washing powder If you
offered to bring me a wagonload Tor
twenty cents. / make my own srap
of I've and grease, and although 1t
isn't indorsed by the crowned heads
of Europe, or by prelates or vice pres
idents, it's the best soap ever made
and I know the ingredients are whole
some. even if they don't comprise
barks and buds and healing herts.
"When I use my own soap, | know
the things I wash won't be any the
worse for it, but the washing powders
sold by agents are made OF dynamite
and lunar caustic, and a garment once
washed with them will never be mt
| to use again.
'Last spring was feeling too poor
ly to make the usual batch OF soap,
so I bought a package of washing
/ powder from an agent who hao MS
pockets full Of testimonials SnoWlnS
| that he was man of high moral char
acter. 1t happened that week that
! all of Mr.. Curfew's white shirts were
in the wash. Mr.. Curfew is very par
ticular about his shirts. They must
be as white as arctic snow, or the way
he raves around the house is a dis
| grace. Well, I wish you could nave
seen those shirts after they were
washed. They had an old gold color
and have been getting yellower ever
since, and Mr.. Curfew never sits down
but he speaks about it and makes
things uncomfortable.
$50 you had better toddle along
and~sell your washing powder to some
woman who doesn't know how to make
good soap."