Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1870-01-05
THE FAT MEMS SPREE.

IN A MEMS SHkEE-
The Drunken Titans after the Grand
SBnn-Mountains of Flesh Rolling
Into Creaktng Beds-Huge stomac hs
Convulsed with Unknown n Soniss
The Snores of the Gigamtes.
The grand ball of the fat men broke ur
Thursday with the break of day Worn
out, like Flemish dray horses, with moth.
ing short of superhuman labors. they stag.
gered out into the cold air with their di:
minutive DANES upon their arms, and wad
died home, singing riotous songs in tones
so bass as would have driven Duchesne
mad with envy. They tramped recklessly
but YEARLY through the streets. How they
entered their respective domiciles it is HARD
to say. Many who resided temporarily al
hotels were dragged to their rooms by
ropes and pulleys.
Stout, the three hundred and ninety
FOUNDER, of Poughkeepsie, who came dowr
to New York to parade at the grand bal
and was staying with his wife's relations in
Fiftieth street. staggered into the dining
room IN the basement of their house. where
he turned over on the floor and fel
asleep. The servants tried to take him tc
bed, but could not move him. His snores
shook the house till noon. and the inmates
walked about with cotton in their ears
Hough, the two hundred and eighty-one
FOUNDER, proprietor of the Lockwood
House in Poughkeepsie, was elevated to
his double bed in the Union Place Hotel,
and left to himself, muttering incoherently
of terrible pains in his stomach. He was
found in the morning, the Stats broken
through, lying on the floor with his heels
in the air on the 1oot-board of the bed.
He was purple in the face, and snored with
an unearthly sound Dr. Cooper gave him
three1 soup ladies' of ippecaeuanha and a
quart of a solution Of copperas, after which
he felt better
ENDURANCE OF THE HON. JOHN FISK.
The Hon. John A. P. Fisk took his little
wife up in his arms and tripped lightly
home. Fisk is model of a man. His en-
durance is remarkable. He took off his
dress coat forty-one inches across the
back, and his vest, containing seven yards
of Madagascar doeskin, and wrung them
dry into the back yard through the kitchen
window.
CATER that I walked up and down the
room, to show my folks l wasn't drunk, "
he said; ''but they gave me no rest.
walked through the whole house to get rid
of 'em, but couldn't shake 'em of. There
was no peace for me, nothing but a big
piece of mince pie in the ice box, and that
/ swallowed. Then [ went to bed, but
couldn't sleep. You see, mince pie isn't
good for fat men. It don't set well on
their stomachs. Well, couldn't stand it
any longer, so jumped up and came down
here to my restaurant. I hadn't been here
ten minutes before some Of the other chaps
came in. You see they had been eating
mince pie too. Well, we took bourbon all
round, and then we took it again, you see,
and SO on. After that we didn't feel the
mince pie any longer, and concluded that
mince pie wasn't good for fat men. So I
locked up all the stuff in my place here,
and am going to keep it for lean men. You
know they've got different constitutions.
They've got dyspepsia and rheumatics and
all that, which we fat men don't know any
thing about, you know. That's the beauty
of fat men.
AS he spoke, truck came rolling slowly
down the street, the horses dragging like
stage horses in a snow-storm, or the equine
skeletons on the belt line of horse cars
On itstood four Titans. When they laughed
the wheels OF the truck groaned, and the
horses gasped for breath. The pede- TRANS
on the street threw up their hats and
cheered enthusiastically The truck stopped
before Fisks restaurant, and it's load slowly
alighted. They had eaten mince pies too,
and couldn't sleep; so they had some more
bourbon all round. They imbibed freely,
and mounted their truck again. They bade
goodbye to their President, for they were
all from Poughkeepsie, and were going
back.
'Look at US, they said 'Poughkeepsie
is the place to grow fat, if your soul is
capable Of that ambition. Look at us four
mcn, and we are skeletons compared with
some other chaps up there Why, here's
Stout, who weighs 800 pounds, and he's
nothing Yet he weighs So pounds more
than you, Fisk Why, you ought to be
ashamed of yourself. We are going to
have that big cane of yours up in Pough-
keepsie next year. There's no chance OF
your beating u.s."
''I'll be darned if you'll have it," retort-
ed the Hon. John A. P. Fisk; ''I'll live on
starch first. :"
'Well, so will We" cried the whole four
in q monstrously bass voice, ''if that's
what's the matter"
FISK q RFSTAURANT