(From the Boston Transcript.)
It is no use for an eastern man to try to toll a big story when there is a western man about.
“ When I was a young man,” said Colonel 8., “we lived in Illinois. The farm had been well wooded, and the stumps wore pretty thick. But we put the coni iu among them, and managed to raise a fair crop. The next season I did my share of the ploughing. We had a ‘ sulky’ plough, and I sat in the seat and managed the horses, four as handsome bays as ever a man drew rein over. One day I found a stump right in my way, I hated to back out, so I just said a word to the team, and, if you’d believe it, they just walked that plough right through that stump as though it had been cheese.”
Not a soul expressed surprise. But Major S., who had been a quiet listener, remarked quietly ; “It's curious, but I had a similar experience myself once. My mother always made our clothes in those days, as well as the cloth they were made of. The old lady was awful proud of her homespun—said it was the strongest cloth in the State. One day I had just ploughed through a white oak stump in the way you speak of, colonel. But it was a little too quick for me : it came together before I was out of the way, and nipped the seat of my trousers. I felt mean, I can tell you, but I put the string on the ponies, and, if you’ll believe it, they just snaked that stump out, roots and all. Something had to give, you know,”
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Rival Liars., Ashburton Guardian, Volume 1, Issue 42, 1 January 1880
Rival Liars. Ashburton Guardian, Volume 1, Issue 42, 1 January 1880
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