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PEOPLE that are always running down insurance don't know what good it does. Take Willie Mason's case. Willie come home to his pa's house last week with his

shoes run over at the heels, no coat, his britches fraz zled out where he couldn't see 'em and about half a

brim to his hat. Last February he got $300 out of bank on his pa's check, which old man Mason never signed,

and went traveling for his health. When Willie come back Mr. Mason had no calf to kill, but he cut a water-melon and fell on Willie's neck with a half Nelson lock and give him a lecture. Next day he marched Willie down to the bank and asked for a place for him to make him work out the $300. Cashier Barrett said he couldn't take Willie unless he was bonded for $2,000 by some guarantee company. So, naturally, Mr. Mason comes to us. The Southwestern Mutual Fidelity, Safety, Surety and Trust Company owes us $62 for advertising, which we agreed to trade out. We have written to them giving Willie Mason a good character—because there is nothing really against him but the joke he played on his pa to the tune of $300. As soon as the bond comes Willie will get a soft place paying $30 per month and work no object. Thus we see in our midst the story of the Prodigal Son repeated. It couldn't be done without guarantee insurance. Mr. Mason has the sympathy of all for his fine scripture character. Some people wouldn't kill a fatted calf for their Willies—they would kill Willie and feed him to the calf, but old man Mason is a true father in Israel, and he's going to make Willie work his money back out of the place he got it from.

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