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First Man—"Let's take a drink of
•wine." Second Man—"Thank you, I never drink wine." First Man—"Have a cigar?" Second Man—"I never smoke." First Man—"Have a chew of tobac co?" Second Man—"I don't chew." First Man—"Well then, let's eat some hay." Second Man—"I never eat hay." First Man—"I see you are not good company for either man or beast." TOO MANY OF 'EM The provisional government of Rus sia has been offered $5000 a week to let ex-Czar Nicholas pose for the American movies. Apparently ex-czars, ex-kings and so forth don't get as high quotations as Charley Chaplin and Mary Pickford. A NEW SONG Stick, brother, stick stick like glue Stick all together and we'll see it through. Teacher—"Now, children, we smell with our noses, run with our feet and—" Little Boy (interrupting) —"My mother says my nose runs and my feet em ell." A farm magazine heads an article "Plant Lice." But Northwest ern farmers won't heed any advice like that There's no demand for the crop. We'll plant potatoes, wheat, beans or anything of that 'sort but will not "plant lice" we should say not! If they would promise to (tend all the American troops to Champagne, we know of thousands and thousands of men from the dry states that would vol-, itnteer. IF YOU CAN'T GET TO BE KNOWN AS A PA TRIOT ANT OTHER WAT JUST CALL SOMEBODY ELSE A TRAITOR. AND FOR POLITICIANS If everybody followed the motto "Silence is golden" tt would- be kind of tough for the newspapers. EVERT TIME SOME FOOD COMMISSION STARTS TO INVESTI GATE WHAT HASH/ IS MADE OUT OF IT MAKES US NER VOUS. WE'RE HAPPY SO LONG AS WE DON'T KNOW. MORE H. C. of L. By E. B. F. (News- Item—Whalers of Washing ton and Alaska have started a move ment to popularize whale meat as an article of human diet during the war). Bring on your whale meat! We'll try It and then we find that we like It well try it again. But one word of warning well drop on the fly— Well quit when the Whale Trust boosts prices too high. on the whale meat TO bet Mrs. Jones Win find ways to cook It and then use the bogies, The smaller In corsets that'Bet off her flgger, A-nH chairs and the suchlike well make from the bigger. Well rebuild the oven fes large as we can And borrow the Tomkinson's Mg bafe ing pan. One fair-sized whale rib roast should last for a week And fill ev*ry farm hand until he cant speak. And whales, so they tell us, give milk, This ought to make farm work go smoother than silk. A small herd of whale cows should be on each farm, They'll feed on the gophers and rats without harm. One milking, they tell us, though strange it may seem, Gives five hundred gallons, and nearly all cream. Of course, all the milkmaid^ must wear divers' suits, With water tight headgear and water tight boots. Of course, all the whale cows are na tur'ly shy, If water dogs run them, they're apt to go dry. But kind words and patience will sure turn the trick, And however they're pestered, no whale cow can kick. IF Oftcr ZCpoco ee. t&o MR- SoNDlrtCfWJD covmeiWSufWr Hooi»s-eur ffrrc! XCCKCE-S OTH£RUx$E STop (what re A SClOCKIrtft'fc will also But, speaking of whale meat, if I rightly recall A fellow named Jonah was first of them all. "He tried it and liked it a long while ago. What's that you say, stranger? You say that ain't so? The whale ate up Jonah? Well, maybe thafs right But I'm not so fussy when whale meat's in sight. I promise to eat it from head to Its tail, Never mind any fixin's—just bring on your whale. WHATTAYA MEAN "FAKERS?" A sad tragedy in North Dakota's animal life was brought to light in the police court at Ray recently when three hunters were brought in on a charge of shooting a prairie chicken out of season. The hunters told the court of the great heroism of the prairie Chicken. It seems they were aiming at A rabbit- but just as the trigger was pulled the heroic prairie chicken flew Id front of the rabbit, thus saving the rabbit'^ life at the expense of its own. However, a heartless judge fined the hunters $10 apiece and in passing sent ence said something about nature fak ers. What do you Boppose he meant? He tries his best, does Henry Gill, Tet somehow—can you beat it? Although be runs and runs a bill He never seems to meet it THAT'S THE WAY WITH SOME PEEPUL BEE-LINE FENCES '"Enough's enough, but less don't pay," as Grand Dad Perkins used to say. "Divide the melon fair and square fork over half, but keep your share." Plain, homely phrases, hard as stones, philosophy that knows no bones, and yet the kind that fills the shelf for both yaur neighbor and your self. When but a lad of fifteen tolls—brain filled with fishing and swimming holes IM MCET'TViC STOCK Hocpers nr-nwu fld'X MATCH *cx*\e f?C4«T7 YTLVftRDrtr hfu-p w«r aoortO ««.'•! HflVK. IT- CO OOf St WHrtTT/MdJ truer-THC. I Son OlfUj I u:£k— PAGE THIRTEEN —I helped him build a bee-line fence between his land and Neighbor Spence. By accident I set one post two inches "out," or three at most. "Yer out of line" my grand dad cried, a-sighting at it squinty-eyed. "I see," said I, "a trifle out, but not* enough to care about." "Two Inches 'out' is two too much, 'nd then taint only that as such, but lookee here, where will ye land?" and he drew a figure on his hand with a burnt match, and showed me how a two-inch slant right here and now would take me fifty feet astray in building fence for just one day. "And should ye slant back," he added, "see—yer 'off of Spence and In' on me. Up with the post bee line the fence that's best for both my self and Spence." A BACKSLIDER Grand Dad was right he sowed a seed that sprouted in my moral creed. I deal with men as he built fence a bee-line creed is common sense. I aim to fence In rigid line between men's normal rights and mine should I get "out" beyond my share I move the post right then and there. The smallest trifle out of plumb will slant in big in years to come. I don't slant back, for don't you see, that's apt to cut 'way in on me. No, pull the post bee-line the fence, that's best for both your self and Spence enough's enough, but less don't pay, as Grand Dad Perkins used to say. I grew sick of milking Jerseys on the farm, and of lugging in the fodder on my arm I grew sick of filling mows, and of tramping after plows, and of rising by a four o'clock alarm. I grew weary of the squealing of the swine, and the bleating and the bawling of the kine of the crowing of the cock, and the cack ling of the flock, and the buzzing of the beetles on the vine. I grew tired of wringing dollars "from the dirt, so I puckered up my courage to desert then I sold the stuff I had, said a fare-you-well to dad, and I changed the cut and color of my shirt. They call a baseball team a "nine" but the Leader couldn't go through the mails if we told what they call the umpire. I grew sick of all the clatter of the street, of the hurry and the scurry of the feet of the autos whizzing by, of the smoky patch of sky, and the sight of somber coppies on their beat. I grew weary of the struggle for the "spawn," of my dinkey little garden, and my lawn, while the groaning of the trolley gave me chronic melancholy, and I hankered for a rooster-call at dawn. When I sold the little business that I had, I went shouting home to Mary with my "scad," and I yelled: "Sew up the tear in the shirt I used to wear, for we're going back to farm beside of dad.'' tfvNf GOT (*0 MJHI I T/Mt ISlT I enfoufi, f" WfVTCH roR —Drawn expressly for The Leader. J. E. T. THE SPOON IS AN INSIGNIFI CANT LITTLE UTENSIL BUT IT CREATES A STIR IN EVERY HOME. A PASTIME NOW OUT OF DATE: PULLING CORKS AT GRAND FORKS. THE PROPER PLACE FOR FOOD SPECULATORS IS IN THE FRONT LINE TRENCHES. BUT THE ARMY REFUSES TO TAKE MEN OF POOR MORAL CHARACTER. BLAME THAT WAR, ANYWAY! Don't blame the local grocer when he boosts the price of tea, for war is on and tea of course is "made in Germany" don't kick if gasoline is high there's war across the brine, and gasoline, you know, is made at Bingen on the Rhine don't jaw the druggist if he wants a fancy price for pills, for everything a druggist sells is mined in German hills don't wrangle at the butcher when he raises on his steak—the beef supply is limited without the Ger man make don't stew be cause your winter's duds take all your summer's dough, for drygoods now can not be shipped from Germany, you know the hardware man is high on nails, and bolts, and tacks, and tin—don't say a word, his scanty stock was smug gled from Berlin! The "News and Times" next year will cost another half a bone, but printer's ink is only made at Frankfort and Cologne! The milliner has, fleeced your wife? Why, that's a German hat be honest, man just blame a a it a that! Don't blame our honest middlemen when a a bravely take your medicine and calmly blame the weir! THE VOTE HAD JUST BEEN TAKEN, "ON THE FACE OF IT," SAID THE CHAIRMAN, "THE AYES SEEM TO BE A LITTLE ABOVE THE NOES." It has been cooler in the houses this week, for the heat has been in-tense. Why on earth was the name "trust" ever applied to something that can not be trusted? Dr. Guild seems to have warmed up again in southern California, When the Dr. left Fargo he had cold feet. ONE COMPLAINT OF THE LOCAli DEALER IS THAT HE DOES NOT GET CREDIT FOR GIVING CREDIT. BESSIE—"These bumper crops may be all right, but they are mighty hard on the soil!" OPPIE—"These crop failures may work a hardship on some, but I tell you they are mighty easy on the soil!" WITH THE BONE-DRY LAW IN FULL BLAST ONLY THE MOON DARES TO GET FULL IN HARVEST TIME. By eliminating the middlemen a certain well known typewriter com pany has been able to reduce the cost of its maohine from $100 to $49. Evidently the middlemen had controlling interest—fifty-one per cent.