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Ramblin' Roses and Flyin' Bricks
They wrote the hatcheries, the feed people, the wire fence firms, the feeding trough people, the vaccine manufacturers, the poultry magazines and just about everybody interested in the health, welfare and marketing of turkeys. Well sir, the fellow started getting mail from all around the country about how to raise turkeys. He couldn't go to the post office without getting an armload of pamphlets, letters and cards. Salesman called on him and he couldn't figure out what was happening. The fellow was just about going crazy and then various ones would start calling him late at night and when he answered the phone a voice would say, "Gobble, Gobble, Gobble!" They're Too Thoughtful Something kind of like that is happening to me. A brokerage concern up in Canada thinks I'm interested in buying some stock in a uranium mine and they're really flooding me with mail. The stuff reads pretty good, too. For instance, back in 1953 a fellow bought a thousand dollars worth of stock in a mine and this year he sold it at a profit of $59,000. Right now a company is being organized with the stock selling for $5.00 a share and the brokerage outfit feels pretty sure the stock will soar right on up and maybe in a few years it'll be worth no telling what. What I can't figure out, why don't they buy it themselves or sell it to their kinfolk's instead of wasting money trying to get my five bucks. Suspicious All my life I've been suspicious of people offering me something that looked too good, because I know they ain't that crazy about me. Once I got a letter from a fellow in Mexico who had a trunk full of gold, but he was in jail and couldn't get out. If I would send him a hundred dollars he would bribe the jailer, get out and ship me the trunk, meeting me later and dividing the money fifty-fifty. He probably sent the letter to a thousand people and some of 'em probably sent him the money, but not me. I was too smart for him. I figured if he couldn't bribe the jailer with a trunkfull of gold he wasn't likely to do it with my hundred dollars. The entire deal smacked of dishonesty and of course I wouldn't be a party to such a thing. Another reason, I didn't have the hundred dollars. Too Far To Travel Maybe I'm passing up a wonderful opportunity in that uranium mine, but Canada is a powerfully far piece to send my hard-earned money. I never would get enough cash ahead to go up there and check on it, and besides I wouldn't know a piece of uranium from a piece of Clarke County rock. Anyway, I doubt if I would make a good millionaire. For instance, I might be down on Hal's Lake with a big blue-gill bream pulling on my line and all of a sudden I might think about that trunk full of gold and start to worrying about maybe somebody had their hands in it. You can't concentrate on a bluegill if you've got money matters on your mind. Hazard of Millions Suppose, too, that I got lost in the swampland on a hunting trip, as I frequently do. Like it is now it doesn't make a hell of a lot of difference whether I get found today, tomorrow or the next day, because I don't have anything special to worry about and I can enjoy my lostness. But, if I had a bunch of uranium checks pouring in every day or wanted to keep up with the latest stock quotations I might start running and butt my head against every tree in the swamp trying to get out in a hurry.
A poor man, lost in the woods, doesn't have anything to worry about. He's safe from finance company collectors and income tax agents. Outside of insurance salesmen, he should find the forest very peaceful.
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