224 N. 5th Ave, Sheldon, Iowa 51201
Old Mule, you are the son of a donkey and I’m the image of
God; yet, here we work hitched together toiling and tilling the
sod. I wonder if you work for me, or if I work for you, Old Mule.
At times I think it’s a partnership between a mule and a
doggone fool. When plowing, we go the same direction, but I work
harder than you. You skim the ground on four good legs against my
two I do twice the work per leg. I do twice as much as you now,
while making the corn crop and that crop will be split three ways;
? for you, ? for me and ? for the landlord. You take ? and eat it.
You’re getting the best in the house. I split my ? with a wife
and 8 kids, banker, 6 hens, and a cow. Right here, Mule, I might
mention you only plow the ground. I shock the corn and husk it.
While you he haw around all fall and part of the winter Ole
Mule, you know it’s true I break my back with a cotton sack
trying to pay off the mortgage on you, the only time I’m better
off is when elections come. A man can vote and a mule cannot, but
that don’t worry you none, because you’re wise, Ole Donkey.
You know what to worry about. You knew politics wouldn’t help
you none, and I’m just finding it out; so Mule, confidentially
speaking, would you change places with me? Would you take up all my
worries and still contented be? Would you swap places, I’m
asking? Of course you know we couldn’t, but would you if you
could? Now tell me the truth; you’re doggone right you
wouldn’t!
