THE ORIGIN OF BARBED WIRE

Hawera & Normanby Star, Volume LIII, Issue LIII, 15 April 1908, Page 6

THE ORIGIN OF BARBED WIRE

AN ACCIDENTAL DISCOVERY. Barbed wine, which is used in most parts of the world, was discovered by accident. Mr Ellwood, the inventor, lived, in bis • youth, in a small town in the Unfted States. Having a neighbor whose- pigs trespassed on his garden, he pnt up one day a wire fence of his own make. The fence had barbs and points on it; it was queer and ugly ; but it kopt out the pigs. ■it was a real barbed-wire fence, the first in tße world, aod there were millions of money in it, but young Ellwood and his (friends only laughed at its strange appearance. One day two strangers saw this fence, realised its value, 'and ordered several tons of it from EUwxxkL Furthermore, they contracted to sell for a long term of years all the barbed wire he could produce. Ellwood borrowed £200 and set up a little factory. A few years later on he had paid that loan, and. afterwards ac-cumm-nlated an immense fortune." THE MAN WHO WINS. The into who wins is the man who does, The ,00301 who makes things hum and buzz, Who builds eta a .basis of solid facts, Who doesn't sit down to mope and dream, But bumps ahead with the force of steam, Who hasn't the time to fuss and fret, But gets there every time — you bet! ffifaimnan who loses is he who talks, <WlSo^ fumbles and foozles and trifles and '^aulks, Who wouldn't do anything to-day That he can put off in the same old way ; Who's down on his luck and curses his fate, And tries to catch fish without any bait ; Who goes through life with a frown on his iaoe, Convinced that the world is a mighty poor place. ■ The man who wins is the man who weais A smile to cover his burden of cares; Who knowis that the siwa will shine again, That the clouds will pass Grind we need the rain; Who buckles down to a pile of work Amd never gives* up and never will shirk Till the task is done, and the toil is sweet, While the temples throb with the red blood's feat. The man who loses is he who moans ' That the way is rough and he dreads the stones; Who is looking for something soft to do, Where the pay is big amd the hours are few; Who dreams of this and dreams of that, But never sails in and throws off his hat; Who fears the feel of a drop of sweat, And never gets anything — you >bet! The man who wins is the man wno climbs The ladder of life to the cheery chinuee Of the bells of labor amd bells of toil, And isn't afraid that his skin will spoil If he faces the light of the glaring sun And works in the light till his task is done — A human engine with triple Keam, And a hundred and 6fty pounds of steam !