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The Commoner.
VOLUME NUMBER fl
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The Mis o of the Popper
When the winter winds aro blowing
and the anow begins to tail;
When the frost rime gathers thickly
on the pane,
When the apples have been gathered
and the lodder ricKS aro tail,
And tno tumbleweeds aro rolling
down the lane;
Then it is wo gather gladly in the
family sitting room
When the daylight dies and evening
shadows drop;
And our joyous laughter quickly drives
away the twilight gloom,
And the swelling, heated corn be
gins to pop.
Hear the music of the popper, quickly
swinging to and fro
O'er the glowing coals beneath the
flinty grain.
Watch the snowy, toothsome dainty
into richest blossom b'ow
To the rythm of the popper's glad
refrain.
And we laugh in joyous measure as
the bursting grain rebounds
With a snap against the shining
popper's top;
For no sweeter winter music on the
evoning air resounds
Than the rattle when the corn be
gins to pop.
High and higher grows the mountain
' in the dishpan by the stove,
While the syrup kettle boil.) a merry
pace;
And our hungry eyes are resting on
, - the future treasure trove,
While a joy is beaming bright in
every face.
Now the popcorn balls are rounding
with a skill that's unsurpassed,
And are tossed into the waiting
hands ker-f lop!
Surely other season's pleasures wlth
$ out doubt are all outclassed
When the swelling, heated corn be
gins to pop.
Munching, crunching 0, the pleasure
that old winter to us brings;
Rosy apples, nuts and cider joy ga
lore. And the old home with the music of
our happy laughter rings,
jLougn outside old wintei s fiercest
blizzards roar.
Round me fireside then gathers all the
family. Every one
Of uie short day duties brought to
sudden stop.
And the evening round of pleasure
midst glad shouts is then uegun,
And the popcorn with a snap begins
to pop.
jiffy, piles in under the thick com
forts, and is soon sleep.ng Hue a log.
In the morning, when he is called,
he bounces ' s c.o es at a pace
that makes Dan Patch looic livc six
lead nlcivles, and by the time ho gets
down to the kitchen fire his blood is
tingling, his eyes aro bright, and ho
feels as nt as a fiddle. Of course he
longs for the enervating atmospuero
of the heated bedroom but that's be
cause he don't know.
The modern furnace has knocked
a lot of romance out of life. What fun
Is tnere -n sitting in front of a reg
ister? Where's the romance in loll
ing around in a room minus Uie rosy
glow of the aseburner or tne dancing
light of the fireplace? Sometimes we
wonder how on earth a fellow ever can
arouse enough romance in his heart
to propose to a girl in a steam or
not air neated room.
But it's different in the old-fashioned
room. Through the mica of
the baseburner the subdued light
nickers and gleams upon the low ceil
ing; the very atmosphere is rendolent
of romance; the flame of the lamp is
turned down low, and the reiiection or
the chimney top on the ceiling looks
like the burnished gold of a wedding
ring. Snuggling up close to the stove
"she" sits, her velvet cheek rejecting
tae glow of the coals and her eyes
dancing .e tne giears upon the
walls, .jo very shadows of .ue room
form a nalo abou r nead, and the
romance of the old days wueri armed
.'nights rode cap a pie to do and die
for lauy fair seems to pervade every
nooK and cranny.
Of course you would never look for
anytuihg iiie -at in a steam-heateu
flat
is a little dancing, desultory conversa
tion, and tuen a unitormed butler an
nounces dinner at midnight. 'Jtne
guests nlo in and partake of exquisite
vianus concocted by an imporceu
French chef, peciving daintily here and
there anu taking nonsensical persmao
and making hjpocriucui couipiiuienia.
At 2 in tno morning the guests de
part, murmuring oily words into tno
ears of meir hosts and then ride nomo
in handsome cardaes to tcs in rest
less sleep tor a lew hours and arise
in the morning with dull headaches.
Then turn irom tms and view scone
No. 2: A cosy country home lighted
with kerosene lamps and warmed by
roaring wood or coal hres that add a
glow to the light of tne lamps. Every
body is lull of ginger and tne band
snart.es are cordial and honest. J. no
compliments may lacic the polish of
the "city drawingroom, but they are
nearty and tree, and the merry Joes
fly thicK and last. Out in the Kitchen
oue and Mary and Jessie and Hazel
and Bettie, and George and Will and
John and Jahe and Frank are shelling
the popcorn, and other malus and
young men are jovially getting the
syrup ready. Their laughter is free
and joyous. And when the corn bo
gins to pop its fragrance is wafted
tnrough the house, -and the snilts ot
anticipation would make the heart of
the French chef beat faster with pro
fessional delight Then, when the
rich, sweet, snowy popcorn balls arc
ready and passed around in a dishpan
heaped mountain high, there are shouts
of delight, gay joes and gustatory
joys witnout a parallel.
Some Vagrant Thoughts on a Variety
of Things.
People who live in the steam-heated
palaces of the city may chink they are
fortunate, but they are missing a
whole lot of things that go to make
.life pleasant Pleasure is not always
wrappeu up in steam pipes, v'vet car
pets, costly paintings, silk gowns, swal
lowtail coats and pate fefol gras. Not
by a long chalk.
.The man who goes to bed In a
steam-heaied room and arises in the
summer mildness, usuallly wonders
why he is not iceling fit Any coun
try boy could tell him.
The city man who was born and
bred in uie country nver passes a
popcorn scanu without having his
memory - aroused. No matter how
freshly popped, the city popcorn man's
wares always taste insipid to the man
who was reared in the country. The
butter tastes rancid, and the very
salt Is Ditter. And the alleged pop
corn balls! What a sickly taste they
have to uo palate ci the man who
remembers tne molasses-made pop
corn uaiis of theoid country days.
Talk about your city social func
tions, the "germans," the cotillons.
the bal masques, and all that sort or
thing! Why, they are not to be men
tioned in the same day with the coun
try corn shucking, the "tarty pull," the
corn popping and the square dancing
In the old kitchen. Besides, the so
cial function of the city means sleep
ing late the next morning and the rest
of the day yawning and feeling like
uie fag enu of turnip time. But alter
the country social it's different You
get up at the usual hour and go forth
co the day's work feeling fine and
dandy no headache, no yawning, no
lassitude, just a pleasant memory of
a jolly good time in the company ot
Jolly good people. My, how pleasant
it Is to recall those old times!
Talk about your city banquets
"after the ball!" Who wouldn't
ratuer spend the evening at .a country
home ,wbere popcorn balls were the
only refreshment, unless it happened
to be complemented by sweet cider
fresh from, the press, or cold water
drawn from the depths of the old well?
And then the home going. No per
functory "Such a lovely time." Not
by a long shot! It's "Had a splendid
ume, Mrs. Smith." "Never had so
much fun in my life before, Mrs.
bmith." And the . departing guests
mean it from the bottoms of their
hearts. Old Dobbin is unhitched from
the front yard fence, Sue is helped
into the buggy, "gid-dap," and away
they go over the country roads, sing
ing and shouting and laughing" in an
abandon of real joy.
feet time to "We'll all go down tn
itouser's" or "Won't have none S
your weevilly wheat?"
- Remember the game of "forfeits '"
Of course you do, and you'd kivq
your steam-heated mansion and all
of its imported furniture if you could
bring back, just one night of the lone
ago. b
But if you cannot bring back the
night, at least you can have the pleas
ure of recalling it. That's something.
Tho Ruling Passon
Senator Fair, according to the San
Francisco Call, had two marked char
acteristics economy and love of jolt
ing. He never forgot frugality in his
extensive business, and he even maue
his own economy a subject for humur.
Once while puttering around over uie
Comstock he slipped and started ieet
first down a deep, narrow shatt Tluru
was a long, continuous ladder reaching
to the bottom, with its every twelun
rung of iron to strengthen the struc
ture. Down this he sped.
"When I found myself sliding down
toward the center of the earth, ' said
the senator, who used to enjoy telling
the story, "I thought it was time to be
gin doin' something. So I commenced
to grab at the ladder rungs. Ar I went
down I broke every single one of the
wooden sticks. This Checked the speed
of my fall and I. landed 'bout a thou
sand feet below, badly shaken up, but
not hurt."
"But what did you do when you
came to the iron rungs?" he was asked.
"Oh, I just skipped 'em. Couldn't
afford to break 'em. Wood was cheap,
but iron was then durned dear on the
Comstock."
Taking No Chance
In one of the Episcopal churches of
the city, according to District Attor
ney Jerome, says the New York Times,
there was once an old woman who in
sisted on bowing her head every time
the name of satan was mentioned dur
ing the service or sermon. The rector,
after noting this eccentricity for
many months, asked her:
"Madam, why do you bow at tho
name of satan? It is not customary,
yon know."
"Oh, I know that," said she, "but it
doesn't cost anything 'to be polite, and
ono never knows what will happen."
The country boy may envy the city
boy,', but that's because the country boy
doesn't know wheh'Ue is well off. Tho
country lad hikes off to bed in a cold
room. He shucks his garments in a
Geewhilikens! Look here, my fel
low city sufferer; does not the very
thought of the old country popcorn
Feast or tally pull make you home
sick? Honestly, now; since it's been
called back to your memory, will you
enjoy the social function at the stately
mansion of Mrs. Nurich Asdemud to
night? Not by a jug full! You'll be
bored to death from the time the foot
man takes your coat until you languid
ly pervarlcate to your hostess as you
are leaving at 2 o'clock in the morn
ing. You'll be comparing the poor
pleasure of that city function with
glad old times you used to have when
you- had to hitch and unhitch your own
horse, and there was but one step be
tween your overalls and your "Sunday-go-to-meeting
suit."
t Right here the moulder of this de
partment is going to endeavor to de
pict a couple of scenes, and thep he
is going to ask you which you would
prefer. Here's scene No. 1:
A stately mansion ablaze with lights.
Guestii arrayed in purple and fine
linen, but thinking more of sartorial
-.splay than of hospitality. Kinc
Gold has left his brand on every heart,,
uuo everything is perfunctory and run
according to unelastic etiquette. There
Imagine anything like scene No. 2 in
a steam-heated fiat or in a mansion
warmed by a furnace! It would be
sheer foolishness to try it
O, yes; there's great comfort In
steam heat, and warm bedrooms, and
downy couches, and all that sort of
thing. But they take all the fun out
of life the Innocent, rioting, glorious
fun that used to live in the old days
of the' fireplace, the kitchen stove, the
taffy pull and the corn shucking.
Remember the red ears of corn?
Remember the slow drive over ttm
long moonlit country road?
ttomemoer the soft cheek hotohtATiPii
( in color by the exercise of keeping per-
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