Knocking the Neighbors | Page 3

Gravel Roof.
Sitting back in his Morris Chair with his Feet on the tiny Radiator he would read in the Sunday Paper all that Bunk about the Down-and-Outs of the City hiking back to the Soil and making $8,000 a year raising Radishes.
He saw the Pictures of the Waving Trees and the Growing Crops and the oleaginous Natives and he yearned to get out where he wouldn't hear the Trolleys in the Morning and the Kids could get Milk that came from a Cow.
So he gave up his Job in the Box Factory and moved out to Jasper Township and tackled Intensive Farming.
He had been Precinct Captain in the Ate Ward and by applying Metropolitan Methods at the Yap Primaries he succeeded in breaking into the Legislature and soon owned the Farm on which he lived and two others besides.
MORAL: One may get close to Nature, even in the Country.
THE ADVANTAGE OF A GOOD THING
Once there was a prosperous Manufacturer who had made his Stake by handling an every-day Commodity at a small Margin of Profit.
One Morning the Representative of a large Concern dealing in guaranteed Securities came in to sell him some gilt-edged Municipal Bonds that would net a shade under 5 per cent.
"I'll have to look into the Proposition very carefully," said the Investor, as he tilted himself back in his jointed Chair. "I must have the History of all previous Bond Issues under the same Auspices. Also the Report of an Expert as to possible Shrinkage of Assets. Any Investment should be preceded by a systematic and thorough Investigation."
Having delivered himself of this Signed Editorial he dismissed the Bond Salesman and went back to his Morning Mail.
The next Caller wore a broad Sombrero, leather Leggings, and a Bill Cody Goatee--also the Hair down over the Collar. He looked as if he had just escaped from a Medicine Show. After lowering the Curtains he produced from a Leather Pouch a glistening Nugget which he had found in a lonely Gulch near Death Valley.
The careful Business Guy began to quiver like an Aspen and bought 10,000 shares at $2 a Share on a Personal Guarantee that it would go to Par before Sept. 1st.
MORAL: It all depends on the Bait.
THE COMMON CARRIER
Once there was a little E-Flat Town that needed a Direct Communication with a Trunk Line.
A Promoter wearing Sunday Clothes and smoking 40-cent Cigars came out from the City to see about it.
The Daily Paper put him on the Front Page. Five Dollars was the Set- Back for each Plate at the Banquet tendered him by the Mercantile Association. A Bonus was offered, together with a Site for the Repair Shops and the Round House.
When the College Graduates in Khaki Suits began to drag Chains across Lots, a wave of Joy engulfed Main Street from the Grain Elevator clear out to the Creamery.
Then came 10,000 Carusos, temporarily residing in Box Cars, to disarrange the Face of Nature and put a Culvert over the Crick. Real Estate Dealers emerged from their Holes and local Rip Van Winkles began to sit up and rub their Eyes.
One morning a Train zipped through the Cut and pulled up at the New Station.
The Road was an Assured Fact. The Rails were spiked down; the Rolling Stock was in Commission; Trains were running according to Schedule.
There was no longer any Reason for Waiting, so the Citizens hiked over to the Court House and began to file Damage Suits. The Town Council started in to pass Ordinances and the Board of Equalization whooped the Taxes.
Horny-handed Jurors hung around the Circuit Court-Room waiting for a Chance to take a Wallop at the soulless Corporation.
When the Promoter came along on a Tour of Inspection, the only Person down to meet him was the Sheriff.
Children in the Public School practised the new Oval Penmanship by filling their Copy-Books with the following popular Catch-Line: "When you have a Chance to Soak the Railroad, go to it."
And the Trains never ran to suit Everybody.
MORAL: Go easy with Capital until you get it Roped and Tied.
THE HEIR AND THE HEIRESS
Once upon a Time there was a Work-Horse who used to lie awake Nights framing up Schemes to Corral more Collateral to leave to the Olive Branches.
They may have looked like Jimpson Weeds to the rest of the World but to Pa and Ma they were A-1 Olive Branches.
Pa was a self made Proposition--Sole-Leather, Hand-Stitched and Four- Ply, with Rivets around the Edge.
His Business Career had been one long Rassle with Adverse Circumstances. Nothing was ever handed to him on a Sheffield Tray with Parsley around it. The World owed him a Living, but in order to collect it he had to conduct his Arguments with a piece of Lead-Pipe.
He was out for the Kids, if you know what that means. He was