﻿BONE YARD  
By T-bone Slim 
 
“Aye are you there?” as [unlcear] bark into the telephone in glor[unlcear] merrie England, (glorious b[unlcear] of Capt. Beach) “are you there[?”] 
Well, if you’re there, Stay [unlcear] Your Industrial Union—and d[unlcear] let no man, or no women, or [unlcear] act, consideration or institution [in]fluence you. 
If there’s influencing to be done do it thyself—make it felt, r[unlcear] than abrasive. But, if you are [unlcear] there—please step up to the fr[ont]. 

“He who humbles himself [to] be elevated,” is the principle un[unlcear] which the hi-jacks operate. 
It is also the theory under wh[ich] the Christian hypocrites expect [unlcear] salve the human race. But why continue? 
Many at Sheriff’s Funeral 
The largest number of people that ever gathered at a funeral in Cavalier County, paid their [unlcear] respects to Fred A. Thompson, [unlcear]cumbent sheriff, last Saturday.— 
Nothing like making sure that everything goes off according to prorgam—for it would be inconvenient indeed to “live” under the impression that “The Law is dead” andthen have the sheriff walk in unannounced. . . . Just as you were running off another batch . . . of germ-killer or something. . . . 
What gets me, is “the large number” that was deeply interested—and yet, excuse me, it might have been just an ordinary “Saturday crowd.” 
If that be true sheriffs should time their demise so’s to draw a full house at their weekend party. All I have to say farther, I believe a sheriff’s funeral could charge admission and draw neck and neck with baseball 

Perth, N. D.—Wages $$$$. Whew!—Stooking. Perth has two water wells.—Of course, the Home Café has water. But, he spoiled it by putting a little coffee into it. It is claimed by idiotic farmers in this district that women and children make the best stockers—and men make the best threshers. (13 days: “call again next year.”) 
True the men make the best threshers, true; but they also make the best stockers—the prettiest—if given time, and if they themselves aren’t homely. 
It is said, “the farmers of Rol[ls] are hardpressed.”—Not at all. It’s their children and wives and visitors that hard pressed—yes indeed, [unlcear] farmers’ wife and niece, and children are now classed with the “dirty” hobo, so called. 

I wish to most respectfully apologize to the M. St. P. & Ste. [unlcear] an estimable railroad, for using [unlcear] part of the “Soo Line” for the shoelast—You see, the belt-splice that I had for a “sole” began to curl up at the corners. In my distress I turned to the Soo Line and found one of “its most important parts”—a claw-bar—which I gently tucked into my shoe and corrected the error of its way. 
I’m sure the Soo is glad to have served me. 

INFORMATION: The many different stories” told about “getting into Canada” are all true. The getting in varies in accordance with the need for men—and varies in accordance with the desire for rake-off in case of heavy crop. Don’t believe stories. 
Met the “Tiny” Morgan in Egeland—he doesn’t seem to be taking capitalism’s best licks seriously—he’s completing his final Chiropratic studies on the Soo Line—low joints and curvature of the rail and stuff like that—or lining up the drive-belt. 

In this country, owing to the vigorous specific gravity of the bundles the age has arrived when the women and children no longer can be used as substitutes for Labor—with the result that men will now be given a few days’ work at trifle larger wages so that they can get out of the country and not be disturbing the slumbers of the roosters as they retire for the night—blessed night! —T-b S.