“Here I am a old man. I have worked hard, year in and year out, and have been fool enough to vote a ticket that was enslavin me for thirty years or more. The wealth that I have produced by my hard work has been taken from me by the laws they have made, while the fellers I have voted for have got rich, and say that it is my fault if I am poor. Me and my likes had to be made poor in order that others might be made rich. Its no fault of mine. Ive tried to be honest and scorn dishonesty, and am to-day nearly without a home for bein sich and for votin the strait ticket and not askin what they was doin; while the fellers I have voted for looked on dishonesty as a honor, and have made laws by which the products of my labor has been taken from me and given to themselves and others no more honest. Ime dummed if I know what to do. “If I leave the party the polerticians and officeseekers will call me a ‘sorehead’ and sich names; if I stay in I am doomed to distress. “I wish the Republicans would make some of them Populist ideas into a law. Ide—Ide——” Just then I opened the door all of a suddent, and says: “Jobe, who air you talkin to?” “Nobody, nobody,” says he, gittin up and steppin round, quick like. “Jobe Gaskins,” says I, puttin my hands on my hips and throwin my head back. “Jobe Gaskins, dident I hear you a talkin?” “No, you dident,” says he, mad like. “I haint spoke a word for hours.” [Illustration: “Jist a layin it off with his hands.”] I stepped back a step or two, lookin Jobe square in the face. Says I: “Jobe, I heerd you a talkin, and you needent deny it. If there is a woman in this barn I want to know it.” At that Jobe got mad, and comin at me with his fist drawed, says he: “Betsy Gaskins, do you dare accuse me with anything like that?” grittin his few teeth. I had grabbed the pitchfork. Says I: “Jobe, take care!” He stopped, and I started to turn the hay upside down, sayin, “If there is a woman in here, Ile—Ile——” Jobe he watched me a minit or two; then says he: “Betsy, what the Harry is the matter with you? There haint any woman in here.” And at that he sneaked out of the barn and went down in the sheep-shed. Now, jist to think! There is Jobe Gaskins, a man of good sense, a man who sees that every law made by the Republican party since the war was a law agin him, and for people who make their livin off Jobe and his likes without workin. Yit, fool like, Jobe will keep a votin his party ticket, jist to please a lot of office-seekin canderdates and “hangers-on” that eek out a existence by doin the dirty jobs set up by the leadin polerticians and fellers who pay to git laws made agin Jobe and his likes. Jobe ort to be ashamed to admit that he was talkin the talk I heerd him talkin. But, poor Jobe, I suppose he will keep a votin for the hand that has smote him, and will keep a smotin him, till he is in his grave and beyond smotin.