Mohave County miner and our mineral wealth., 1921-04-29

Mrs. Pollywog will be over tomorrow to borrow your fountain pen or your tortoiseshell comb, or perhaps she will come visiting for a few days, and the cost of entertaining her would buy sev- eral barrels of chicken broth.
 q hate to have anybody do me a kindness, knowing I'll be expected to return the favor with interest in one way or another. When I was a mere boy my eyes were opened to the fact that kind actions are deluslon and a snare. Next door to us there lived an old dame named Mrs. Crimp. One day she came over to our house with a pair of woolen socks she had knitted for me. suppose an equally good pair could have been bought at the trade palace for fifteen cents, and l wasn't overwhelmed with joy. My mother, who, with all her splendid qualities. was an easy mark, and in. clined to find good in everything and everybody. was enthusiastic over Mrs Crimp's generosity.
 "But even in my infant years I was gifted with the wisdom of the serpent, and felt from the first that there was some malevolent scheme in the back. ground.
 'The scheme was soon developed. Mrs. Crimp had many chores to do. and she hated to do them herself. There was wood to be carried into the house, and the COW to be taken care of, and hundred other unproHtable tasks. Every time I'd meet her she'd say. "Well, my sweet little boy, with your golden ringlets and sunny smile, how do you like the socks made youi If you only knew how worked, so you would have the best socks in town And that reminds me of a little errand wish you would do for me. Go to MT. Jinks, who lives seven miles north, and ask him to let you have his saw, so you can cut some kindling for me tomorrow"
 First and last, Mrs. Jiggers, put in $1,000 worth of manual labor for that woman and my youth was poisoned and my manhood embittered by 1t. Il might have forgiven everything had the socks been good ones, but they were atrocious. The heels always worked around to my insteps and the tops worked down over my shoes.
 !"It has been that way all my life. When man insists upon doing me kindness I look upop him with sus. picion. When I was laid up in my room with a broken leg two or three years ago, had an excellent time. The leg hurt only at intervals, and I had plenty of novels to read, and nothing to worry over, and I would have enjoyed myself splendidly but for tiresome philanthropists who were determined to sit by my bedside and cheer me up. didn't need any cheer ing up, and tried to convince them that their visits had the opposite ef feet, but they wouldn't take a hint They sat by my couch of suffering and told idiotic stories, and bored me al. most to death.
 "Jim Higginbottom was an especial nuisance. That man simply wouldn't go away as long as there was an ex. cuse for staying. He said his con. science wouldn't allow him to forsake the bedside of a suffering friend. At that time I carried some accident in. surance, and when my check came Jim borrowed half of 1t, and after he got the money he never worried over my leg any more. And he never returned any of the money. I don't blame him for that, for make it a rule never to return borrowed money, but I can't easily forgive him for boring me so many hours, when I wanted to be rao dyDoD