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The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, February 25, 1909, Image 4

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn90060762/1909-02-25/ed-1/seq-4/

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SIDE LIGHTS
Gilbert Bays sume fellows ‘‘fly
funny” and tljere ’ 8 110 tel,ing
where they 11 land.
Capt. Alexander says he has ev
erything pickled in cans except
choice bits of conversation.
“I swallowed a“ cud of tobacco
by mistake,” said a neighbor.
“It’s chew bad,” was the solacing
rejoinder.
Zim— “Captain, did you get one
of my last lithographs?” Captain
Whelan—“ Yes, Zim—it’s a very
good likeness.
Webb says: “I’ve ketched ev
ery bug in the place except one
and I expect to lasso him behind
the ears before long.”
“They may have hot buns over
at the new place but we have hot
turnovers here when the Judge
gets after us at court,” said one of
the wise denizens.
“Bin up to court ag’in?” an offi
cer asked one of the laddiebucks.
“Yes,” he replied. “I wanted to
hear ’the musical voice of the
Judge for a change.”
That prince of good fellows, Mr.
C. R. H„ says he has concluded to
remain in “our midst,” practicing
as a legal tribune of the elect here
for about seven more months.
Brigham Young, jr., who is here
for a short stay says every day
seems a century to him he s so
anxious to join wife number two
who has stuck to him like glue.
“Every time the chief engineer
comes over there’s a Schatz-en
fest,” said one of the prints. “If
he would only put a new floor in
the place all would be forgiven,
he continued.
Guard Goldsmith is always hap
py when he acts as assistant post
master and has a good bunch of
mail for the boys in the print
shop. Said one of the prints:
“May he live long ur.d brosper.”
‘•No, I don’t believe I can trace
my lineage back to Alexander the
Great,” said Captain Alexander.
Don’t let that worry you, Captain
Any public biographer will do that
for you for $50.00 and furnish
certified copies of public records.
Old Hutch was in the printery
recently doing an artistic 30b of
whitewashing. Here is one of his
bon mots: “I was one of only four
to escape from the redskins at the
Custer massacre in 1876 —only to
fall into this. Kickapoo—bow
wow —b-r-r- r-o-o-w!”
The golden-haired plumber was
observed coming down the ave
tnue the other day with a lighted
lantern. “There goes Diogenes
looking for an honest man,’ ob
served one of tlie boys. “Yes, he s
in the right pew but in the wrong
church.” Mahvelous!
Powers says he would like a job
pulling alfalfa out of the faces of
some of the Indians he knows
around here. He says Etid does
not dare to do the pulling act.
The second baiber says lie’s used
to scraping hogs so that he is
available in any emergency.
Davy says: “I kain’t trust no
body ’roun’ here except the Ward
en. Whenever I get a piece of
cake or some candy some one
swipes it. Of course, senator,
(bowing very low) I’d trust you
with anything except my best
girl.” Thank you, Davy—but as
before said—keep your shiny eye
peeled for the Nigertoebitumis.
Jo-Jo, like his predecessor, is
baldheaded, but he says it is due
to early piety and being patted on
the cfanium by his best girl. l)i.
Woods Hutchinson, the famous
physician, says baldness is a dis
tinction and he inclines to the old
theory that the hair is pushed out
by excessive brains.
The whirligig of time makes
changes. A certain party here
has enjoyed tile unctuous satis
faction of seeing the prosecuting
attorney who sent him here join
him in the ranks of the detained
and the other day the sheriff who
brought him here walked in for a
stay of two and one-half years.
Zim has closed his theatrical
season in a blaze of glory. Con
sidering everything he has done
very well. Of course there are al
ways a few kickers but they will
have an opportunity of seeing the
great professional artists when
they return to private life after
having rendezvoused here as the
wards of the commonwealth. In
the meantime give Zim credit for
having put up some very credit
able home talent productions.
“No,” said the colored snare
drummer boy, “I never whimper
when I fall into the third grade.
I console myself with the thought
that there is not a fourth grade or
I might tumble into that. I be
lieve with the philosopher things
are not so bad but what they
might be worse —and I have the
consolation of knowing that any
way I can play a snare drum to
the entire satisfaction of our emi
nent leader—Prof. Burchard.” A
philosopher come to judgment.
“What’s the matter with yon?’
asked Dr. Stebbins. “I am spache
less —” “What’s that?” “Isay!
am spacheless whin I ought to be
spacheful —and spacheful whin I
ought to be spacheless.” “Oh,”
said the Doctor, “you are unable
to properly gauge the situation
with reference to the proximity of
a guard.” “That’s it—tl tf mt’s it—
Doctor.” “Well, the only thing
that will help you is a strict in
terpretation of the rules and reg
ulations —pills won’t do you any
good.”
Moike says simplified punctu
tion is here. The oldtime rules of
grammar are being changed. Take
the following from an old book:
“I, too, believe, as does General
Jackson, that, in the event of hos
tilities, a large force, properly
aimed, and well equipped, should,
without delay, and, in my opinion,
with all possible decision, and
dispatch, be pushed forward, rap
idly, and without loss of time, to
drive out the enemy.” Every
comma used in the above sen
tence may be eliminated without
danger of improperly punctuating
it. In addition to simpler spell-
ing has come the elimination of
hyphenated words and the unifi
cation of two separate words into
one as the following for example:
oversensitive, twentyfirst, today,
and the like. Simplified spelling
comes by slow process. Forty
years ago frenzy was spelled
phrensy and phrenzy. Sulphur is
spelled sulfur by many leading
writers. Simplified or phonetic
Spelling will require many years
to make much headway —but will
probably come along gradually in
the future as in the past. Sim
plified punctuation is being used
by the newspapers and it will not
be long before the educational
faculties of the world will adopt it.
No doubt that’s what Moike meaut
to convey in his article on punc
tuation.
An Irish Bandies Story.
While down in the Black Creek'
coal country I became acquainted
with a typical son from Erin’s
Isle, whose name was Mike Shan
non. Mike was a gieat story teller
and never lost a chance of telling
one. He always took the hero’s
part and ulways came out on top.
One night after the night shift
had gone to work some one asked
Mike if lie believed in ghosts.
“Shure and that I do,” replied
Mike, “and shure the first money
I ever earned was thru one of
them. ’Twas like thie: Myself
and partner O’Brien were pros
pecting out in Colorado and at
the close of day we came in sight
of a deserted cabin. Not wishing
to go any further that night we
decided to stop at the cabin until
morning. There was an upstairs
to the cabin and two rooms down
stairs. The only things in the
house were an old stove and a
bed. O’Brien and I laid out our
stuff and after making a cup of
coffee spread our blankets on the
bed and retired for the night,
thinking we were mighty lucky to
strike such a place.
“We had tramped a good deal
during the day so were tired and
soon fell asleep. All of a sudden
I got a slap on the side of my
head which soon woke me up. I
felt the place still smaiting and
was sure it was no dream. O Brien
was sound asleep. At first I
thought he was playing tricks on
me. I lay there a few minutes
when all of a sudden O Brien
jumped up in bed and said, ‘what
the divel did you hit me for?’
“‘Shure,’ says I, ‘never a crack
did 1 give you.’
“‘Then,’ says O’Brien, ‘the
place is haunted.’
“To make sure we took hold of
each other’s hands and in a few
minutes both of us received a
whack on the head. I jumped out
of bed and taking a light went all
thru the house but found nothing
unusual. I finally went back to
bed and just as I was getting
asleep the blanket was jerked off
of u«. ‘Cut that out now, says
O’Brien, ‘or I’ll make you look like
a ghost.’
“Of course I had nothing to do
with it, and holding hands the
same as before the same thing
happened again, and something
more not on the bill. Looking
toward the stairs we saw the skel
eton of a man coming toward us.
This was too much for O’Brien
and with a few jumps he lands on
the outside, leaving me alone with
the ghost. The ghost asked me
what I was doing in the house and
told me to leave and that if I re
mained there three nights I would
be a dead man. He said his broth
er was mnrdered in there and'that
he was keeping watch over his
bones.
“Shure,” said Mike, “’twas the
first ghost I ever heard talk and I
never was afraid of anything that
could talk. I told him 1 would
not leave until I got ready. Holy
murther, when I told him that he
jumped at me and with his bony
feet and hands he liked to have
killed me.
“After giving me an awful beat
ing he said, ‘if you are here to
morrow night you will get a worse
beating and on the third night if
still here I will kill you.’
‘“Why didn’t you follow him,
Mike?’ some one asked.
“Shure I did but never a trace
did he leave. Well the next
morning I reached a farm house
and found O’Brien there. The
man who owned the place asked
me if I slept in the cabin over
night. I told him I did and all
that bad taken place. He said he
could sell the house for a large
sum if he could find some onewh«*
would remain in the house for
three nights. He said he would
give SSOO. to any one who would
undertake the job. ‘l’m your
man,’ sez I. ‘Ghost or no ghost,
I’ll stay.’
“Weil, the next night,” said
Mike, “I was back at the cabin and
had fixed up things for Mr. Ghost.
I was sitting by the tire and at ex-
actly twelve o’clock I heard a
noise on the stairs —and sure
enough there was the skeleton.
Without a word the blackguaid
started to beating me. ’Twas then
I got up my Irish. I grabbed a
club which I had brought along
and made a swipe at the divil—
but sure as my name is Mike
Shannon the club went right thru
him and ’twas just like striking
the wind. After he had beaten
me until I could hardly stand he
said, ‘if you are here tomorrow
night I will surely kill you so
take warning.’
“I went back the third night, ’
said Mike, “and I was bound to
solve the mystery. I bad a large
pot of boiling water ready for the
skeleton when he came that night.
I was going to earn the money or
die. Shure, I never done the man
no harm and was pretty shure he
would not kill me. Again at the
same hour he appeared before me.
He said: ‘They killed my brother
—but I won’t kill you. I will give
you something to remember the
rest of your life —then I shall go
back to where I came from.’ When
he quit speaking he started in to
beating me again. I grabbed the
hot water and tried to throw it
over him but got most of it myself.
“To make a long story short 1
awoke the next morning outside
the cabin door. I was bruised and
scalded in bad shape and still carry
the marks. I got this money and
from then on the house was all
right.”
Mike always had a bright twin
kle in his eye when telling these sto
ries. “Once,” said Mike, “when I
was a small boy 1 left my home
and started for Dublin. Night
overtook me and I lay down by
the roadside to sleep. After a
while two men came along and
woke me up, telling me I must go
along with them. They took my
shoes and stockings away and
said I could not use them in what
they were going to make me do.
Pretty soon we came to a grave
yard around which, was a large
stone nail. They placed me on
top—then made me go into the
yard o/er to the vault. One of
them then said, ‘now boy, in that
vault there is a woman who was
placed in there today. On her
fingers are three large diamoud
rings. We want them and if you
don’t get them we will kill you.’
They told me where the body was
and after opening the door with a
key they pushed me inside telling
me to knock when I had the rings.
There I was alone with the dead
and not liking the company, I was
| anxious to go out as soon as pos
sible. I soon found the rings
and after knocking on the door
the two men opened it just a little
and told me to hand out the rings.
The fellow said: ‘You only got
three—get the rest.’ He then shut
the door, looked it and left me
there alone. I was mighty scared
and at once began planning how
to get out. The old sexton used
to come around every two hours,
so I decided on the following
plan. Shure if he caught me
there I would be taken for a grave
robber. So I took the woman out
of the coffin and when I heard him
coming I pouuded on the door and
yelled with all my might. He
opened the door, I threw the wo
man at him and made my escape.
It was now about four a. m. and I
was tired, scared and hungry. I
met a farmer who was going to
town. He told me to go back to
his house and tell his wife to feed
me and rest myself until he came
back from town.
“When I reached the place and
told the woman she would not let
me in the house but tried to drive
me away. I thought something
was wrong and after going a short
distance from the house I returned
and looked thru the window. This
is what I saw: A young fellow
and the man’s wife at the table,
and on the table stood a large bot
tle of wine, a loaf of rye bread and
a large piece of cheese. They
were having a fine time while the
old man was away. I heard the
sounds of horses and wheels on
the road and the others in the
house heard them too. The wo
man pushed the man iuto a small
closet, put the cheese in the clock,
the rye bread behind the door and
the wine in the oven just as her
husband came back. He had for- ,
gotten something. He saw me
sitting on the porch and asked me
why I did not do as he told me.
I told him I had but his wife
would not take me in. She said:
‘You know, John, I would never
let a stranger in the house while
you were away.’
“The man took me into the
house and told his wife to make
me a cup of tea and give me some
nice white bread and meat. I told
the man 1 only ate rye bread and
cheese and only drank wiue. The
woman looked daggers at me but
I paid no attention to her. The
man said: k Shure, what you spoke
of is not within forty miles of
here.’ Shure, I can produce ev
erything light bore in this room.
If you will open the clock you will
find the cheese. He did so and
found the cheese. Next I told him
to look behind the door and he
would find the rye bread which
he did. Then I told him to fetch
me the wine from the oven, which
he also did. By this time his wife
was almost in a fit. She was mak
ing all kinds of signs at me to
stop. The man was so surprised
he did not know what to say. Fi
nally he said, ‘what kind of a man
are you? Or are you the divil
himself?’ ‘No,’ says I, ‘but I can
show you the divil.’ At this the
woman nearly fainted. ‘l’ll show
you the divil,’says I, not looking
towaid his wife, ‘if you will prom
ise to open all the doors and win
dows and give him a chance to
get away.’
“Sure,” said Mike, “I would
have liked to see the man beat the
divil out of the fellow in the closet,
but seeing his wife was near to
fainting I loft a chance for him to
escape. After everything was
ready I told him to open the closet
door and he would see the divil.
He opened the door and the fel
low jumped at him and then thru
the window and vanished in the
woods around the house. If you
don’t believe that man found a
divil in his house I don t know
what else you would call him. The
farmer says it was and he is right.
He took me to town the next day
and fitted me out with a new suit
and other things. And he be
lieves to this day that the Banshee
was in his house. A. F. B.
Is to His Chest.
The civil service medical exam
iner gazed unfavorably at the di
minutive Italian who was seeking
a iiositiou on the police force.
“What does your chest meas
urer
“Oh, about seventy inches.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed the
doctor in disgust.
“Come down to my house an’ I
show you!”
“Can’t you show me here?”
“No. I got ’im home full of
clothes an’ stuff.” —Ex.
No man was ever so much de
ceived by another as by himself.
—Greville.

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