--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 16 number: 6 published: 1913-04 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations, "In Lighter Mood," *Improvement Era* 16, no. 6 (April 1913): 557–558.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1606unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1606unse start_page: 557 end_page: 558 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1913-04) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1606unse publication_year: 1913 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1913, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # In Lighter Mood IN LIGHTER MOOD Some people are so delicate that they can't change their minds without taking cold. This is said to be the latest song hit in Atchison: "No Matter How Hungry a Horse Becomes, It Can Not Eat a Bit." Kansas City Journal. A long-winded college professor found this hint lying on his desk one morning: "A speech is like a wheel— the longer the spoke the greater the tire." — A Changed Man. "Are you the same man who ate my mince pie last week?" "No, mum. I'll never be th' same man again!" Nezv York Mail. A Puzzling Situation. — It is authoritatively reported by specialists of malnutrition that there was once a man who was so thin that he couldn't tell whether he had a backache or stomachache. "What kind o' man is MacPherson?" "Weel, I was in his hoose ae day, an' he was poorin' me oot a drram, an' I said stop, an' he stoppit that's the kind o'— mon is MacPherson V—-Legends of Knockdrummlc. — A Superfluous Effect. "Do I make myself plain?" shouted the woman-suffrage speaker, as she paused to let her arguments sink in. "The Lord did that for you long ago," said a "mere man" in the rear of the hall. The Circle. First Farmer. — What did you tell ' them, Si, when they askt you in the city whether your milk was properly pasteurized? Silas. —Told them, "Why, certainly; all our cows are fed in a pasture." Judge. A phone message, it is reported, came from the West Side to a Salt Lake policeman to come down to a certain number and look after the disposition of a dog. The officer went, and, of course, found the animal dead. He investigated the case, returned and reported that the dog doubtless had a bad disposition, but fortunately he was now dead. — "I IBiT Chapter IX —Around the Bend When the Rojer outfit crossed Castle Hill for the fall roundup, Alec and Bowse were Ben's full team the force with which : he expected to do a generous quarter of the work. The dog and horse formed a combination of affability and service which Ben and his father could not be blamed for regarding as a cash asset. They did regard it as such, not only because the bay colt dovetailed into the outfit like a thing made to order, but because these years on the range had taught Bowse to be all help and no hindrance. The four places in the force were filled in the usual way two : by Ben and his father, one by Jud, and the other one gorged to nausea by Josh Widder. Widder was -no smaller in body nor larger in soul than on all the previous trips to Pagahrit. He boasted sociably when everything catered to his bilious whims, and he sulked and pouted and swore when they didn't. He descended like a vulture on the beef and slickum, and always carried a decaying cargo of food in his congested ventricle. He waddled around the corral, and wallowed around the fire, and grunted, and puffed, worse than any "fat paunch" Shakespeare ever knew. To young Rojer and his dog, if to no one else, Widder seemed a more and more intolerable bag of offense every day. From his high-heeled boots to his bullet head where germs of mischief were incubated, a hundred hateful things inspired Ben with a "mouthfilling oath," and his dog with a menacing growl. Ben's unspoken oath became a hard thing indeed to hold, when he and his father rode over a sand-hill and found their offensive co-laborer smearing his brand on a yearling bull to which