The Michigan Hen

An editor whose wife sold eggs and paid off the ruortgage probably oo bis office, is lesponsible for tbe following : We have read of Maude on a suinrner day, wbo raked barefooted the newmowD bay. We have read of tbe maid in the early mom, who ruilked tbe cow with the erumpled horn. And we've read the lay that the poets sing, of the rustling corn and the fiowers of spring. But of all the lays of tongne or pen, there's naught like the lays of the Wolverine beu. Long, loDg before Maude lakes her hay, the Wolverine hen begins tolay; and ere tbe milkmaid stirs a peg, the hen is up and has dropped her egg The corn must ruatle and the flowers mnst spring, if they keep np with tbe barnyard ring. If Maud is iu need of a bat or gown, she does not take her hay to town ; bot sbe goea to the store and obtains her suit with a basket full of fresh hen fruit. If the milkmaid's beau makes a Sunday cali, she doesn't feed him on milk at all; but works up eggs in a custard pie, and etnffs him fnll of a chicken fry. Aud wben the old man wants a horn, does be haul to tbe drcggist a load of coru; Not much; he simply robs a nest; to town he goes - you know the rest. Here he lingers, and talks, perchance, of trne reform and coirect finance; wbile his good wife stays at home and scowls, but is saved from want by those self-same fowls; while the husband ís lingering there, she watohes the caokling hen with care aud gathers the eggs, and the eggs she'H hide, till she gathers enough to stem the tide. Then hail! all hail to the Wolverine hen, the greatest blessing of all to men. Throw up yonr hat and make Rome howl for the preserving barnyard fowl! Corn may be king, but it's plain to be seen that the Wolverine hen ia Michigan queen.