From: Krasna, Bessarabia
12 September 1913
Just look around and see what all happens in this world. I always thought that my scribbling in the Staats-Anzeiger was hardly or not at all looked at by the readers. But as I can see, that is completely different.
About a week ago, I heard people mutter that there now was yet another “A Farmer” who was writing in the Staats-Anzeiger, but was signing off a little differently. As soon as I found out about it I mused over it. I immediately went into the village to listen around and find out who that other “A Farmer” might be who signs off differently. I went from one person to another and heard different stories from each one; however no one had read the article. But I was curious to find out about the one who also had started to write reports for the Staats-Anzeiger.
So I went to the tavern to maybe find out something there more specific about this situation. Indeed, as I entered the tavern there were several men reading the paper. They commented that there was a second newspaper reporter who signed off as “Also A Farmer.” Then one of the men stated, “The second one will not rub the nose of the first one, as will the first one do likewise with the second one, as we shall see in the future editions of the paper.” When I heard this I could hardly wait until the men put the paper down to resume drinking their wine. That is when I grabbed the paper and read the article which the “Also A Farmer” had written. I could tell that the article that I had written previously had angered the “Also A Farmer” quite a bit. Maybe because he had been targeted too much with the truth.
I had not mentioned this person by name. How can anyone like that become so angry about something that I had written? I had thought that I would write the article in such a way that nobody would know who was meant and where it had happened. But as I could tell, it didn’t take long for someone to come forth.
I believe that if the “Also A Farmer” writes another report, then one will be able to tell the first letter of his name and family. Should he write again after that, then his whole name and his family will be known. I don’t know why my writing bothers this Mr. “Also A Farmer” so much. I never would have thought that it would bother someone so much, because the subject matter is really something old among us men. In the evenings when we men gather in front of somebody’s yard enclosure, we discuss things like that and adding something new to the old.
It will not be much longer when my neighbor and I will have village guard duty again. That is when one can see and hear things and these happenings will add up, enough for me to write an article and send it to the Staats-Anzeiger. Then our old comrades can picture how we still live with our old habits. I don’t know if the “Also A Farmer” was among the group of men gathered in front of someone’s yard enclosure and took part in the conversations, but I don’t believe he did. The conversations would not fit him. He would probably say, “They all escaped from a mental institution.”
You can see dear fellow countrymen in America that things here are still the same as before. It is true one can hurt some people who fit the category with this, because it gets to the heart of it. The Mr. “Also A Farmer” is not inept with his writing. If he is that smart with everything then he is like a “Molodez.” If a farmer is able to elaborately write reports in a rhyming manner, then this farmer is quite competent. Then he can almost say, “Lord, what am I? Lord, what can still become of me?”
Here my dear friend, rhymes are of no help. It happened this way here. When you are finished visiting with the guys in front of a yard enclosure, you go home to your wife and go to bed. Then they can write in the newspaper as much as they want to. It will not bother anyone. Follow my advice dear comrade “Also A Farmer”, you will see an improvement.
I send a friendly greeting to all my friends in America and to all the readers.
A Farmer