JOBE he is in a critical condition. Day before yisterday, when Jake Stiffler brought our mail out from town—it consisted of the two noosepapers that we have took for years, that is, the Ohio Dimicrat and the Tuscarawas Advercate—I played a trick on Jobe that nearly cost him his life, and nearly made me a weepin and mournin widder.
For years and years we have took them two “stanch and substantial” noosepapers without ceasin. We have took them simply because one was a Dimicrat paper and the other a Republican. We have took them when payin for them kept me from gittin a new dress or Jobe a change of pants.
We have took them though durin all them years they have said the same things over and over agin, aginst each other and aginst the party they wasent, jist at the time, gittin any campaign money or county printin from.
The Dimicrat has allers called the Republicans rascals and sich, and the Advercate never fails to show how the Dimicrats are worse still.
Always, when the Advercate comes, Jobe he sets down and reads out loud all the abuse agin the Dimicrats; then, lookin over his specks at me, says:
“Now, Betsy, you see what kind of a party you belong to. You see now what kind of leaders youve got,” &c., &c.
Its a regular thing for Jobe to read the same things week arter week and then to criticise me and the Dimicrat party time arter time, until for years Ive been in the habit of goin in and settin down and a listenin to Jobe read the Advercate’s abuse of the Dimicrats, and a waitin for my regular weekly tongue-lashin. Ive done it jist for the good it seems to do Jobe.
“‘Now, Betsy, you see what kind of a party you belong to.’”
Sometimes to answer him I jist read from the Ohio Dimicrat the same things he has read from the Advercate—only where the Advercate says “the Dimicrat party,” the Dimicrat says “the Republican party.”