Baled Hay. A Drier Book than Walt Whitman's «Leaves o' Grass»

ALL business letters, as a rule, demand some kind of an answer, especially those containing money. To neglect the reply to a letter is an insult, unless the letter failed to contain a stamp. In your reply, first acknowledge the receipt of the letter, then the receipt of the money, whatever it is.

Letters asking for money or the payment of a bill, may be postponed from time to time if necessary. No man should reply to such a letter while angry. If the amount is small and you are moderately hot, wait two days. If the sum is quite large and you are tempted to write an insulting letter, wait two weeks, or until you have thoroughly cooled down.

Business letters should be written on plain, neat paper, with your name and business neatly printed at the top by the Boomekang job printer.

Letters from railroad companies referring to important improvements, etc., etc., should contain pass, not for publication, but as a guarantee of good faith.

Neat and beautiful penmanship is very desirable in business correspondence, but it is most important that you should not spell God with a little g or codfish with a k. Ornamental penmanship is good, but it will not take the cuss off if you don't know how to spell.

Read your letter over carefully after you have written it, if you can; if not, send it with an apology about the rush of business.

In ordering goods, state whether you will remit soon or whether the account should be placed in the refrigerator.

DANGER OF GARDENING

A COLORADO book agent writes us about as follows: "For some time past it has been my desire to insure my life for the benefit of my family, but I knew the public sentiment so well that I feared it could not be done. I knew that there was a deep and bitter enmity against book agents, which I found had pervaded the insurance world to such an extent that I would be unable to obtain insurance at a reasonable premium.

"The popular belief is that book agents are shot on sight and their mangled bodies thrown into the tall grass or fed to the coyotes.

"I found, however, that I could get my life insured for two thousand dollars by paying a premium of twelve dollars per year, as a book agent. This was far better than anything I had ever looked for. The question arose as to whether I worked in my garden or not, and I was forced to admit that I did. It ought to reduce the premium if a man works in his garden, and thus, by short periods of vigorous exercise, prolongs his life, but it don't seem to be that way. They charged me an additional three dollars on the premium, because I toiled a little among my pet rutabagas.

"I don't know what the theory is about this matter. Perhaps the company labors under the impression that a thousand-legged worm might crawl into my ear and kill me, or a purple-top turnip might explode and knock my brains out.

"Of course, in the midst of life we are in death, but I always used to think I was safer mashing my squash-bugs and hoeing my blue-eyed beans than when I was on the road, dodging bulldogs and selling books.

"Perhaps some amateur gardener, in a careless moment, at some time or other, has been stabbed in the diaphragm by a murderous radish, or a watermelon may have stolen up to some man, in years gone by, and brained him with part of a picket fence. There must be statistics somewhere by which the insurance companies have arrived at this high rate on gardeners. If you know anything of this matter, I wish you would write me, for if hoeing sweet corn and cultivating string beans is going to sock me into an early grave I want to know it."