Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1873-07-24
THE SUPERVISORS STORY.


THE SUPERVISORS STORY.
TT was at -, in Yorkshire, that l first
met my friend the supervisor. | had the
pleasure of an evenings conversation
with him, an evening and morning, as
NAV say, for we didn't go to bed all that
night, and the tots oftoddy reached a total
that caused Reason to tOtter on her throne.
We were conversing, amongst other
topics upon Fenianism; and / remarked
to my friend the supervisor, that | felt a
little tender in touching on the theme, for
that didn't exactly know, although l
was certain, he was Scotchman, whether
he mightn't be an Irishman as well.
You'll bear in mind that we'd reached the
stage of our ''toddy tournament" which
might be termed the melee Tor the mellow,
in the vernacular), anyhow, we were get
ting mixed in our ideas.
And am not surprised at that same -
said Sandy - for l lived many years in
Ireland, when I was just gauger, and l
grew so intimate with the Irish, that my
tongue got twist that it's never recover
ed from to this day. And to tell you the
truth, it was the pleasantest country to
live in of all the islands of Great Britain.
Why, man who was Crown officer, and
had ready money once quarter, was
aquil to lord and there was something
in the air of the country that was whole
some to that degree, that We might be
drinking whisky all the day, and be never
a penny the worse for it at night. | was
in wildish part of the country, up among
the boys of Tipperary. I was just raw
laddie then, upon my appreciation as it
were, and l was gey active, we may be
sure, routing about the country hunting
for stills and shebeens, searching auld
wives barrels" trying to speer out some
thing that might be feather in my cap,
and bring me speedy promotion. But
never drop Of potheen or the Whit of
still l could come across, though they
were swarming about me the whites.
But one day. as / sat on the top of bit
hillock, looking over the wild country,
and thinking of the braes o. Kirkokyrie,
Ispied man coming along a wee bit
track over the moor, and he was as fou as
the laird o. raigdarroch.
He was stranger to the parts, too, and
didn't know the face Of me, and he came
rolling and sliddering along to where l
was sitting.
"God save you, friend" said I.
"Ihe saints purtect you!" said my
friend.
"It's the decent drop o. liquor you get
up there beyant."
"Be me soul, it is"
"And it's decent gossoon that sells it, )"
l went on.
Indeed, he isl
"Will there be a drop left in the jug up
beyant?"
"There's lashings of it,"
same?"
"Indeed, would"
''Then I'll be for treating you, friend; !"
and linked my arm with his, and away
we went over hill and dale, while we
came to lone hut in bit bag or dingle,
where there was reck of peat smoke,
and bit of bummling noise that was
the poor fellows inside singing Well,
my friend gave sort OF cOuntersign that
l couldn't see the trick of, and he and
both walked in and sot down on heap of
turfs by the door, and called for the pc
theen, and paid for it, and never one
of them was the wiser. But they hadn't
got the still there. I found that out; it
was up among the boys somewhere, and
was hoping they'd let drop something
that'd give me a line to where it was,
when all of sudden there dropped in a
little man, grocer from the town, and
the shine from the door as it opened upon
me lit up my face, and in the surprise Of
the moment he sang Out
"Lads, we've got the gauger among ye."
There was great kish of turf just be-
hind me. and before could stir hand,
somebody had clapped it over me like an
extinguisher, and what with the dust of
the turf, and wheen few trifes that was
among it, and the reek and the stink,
didn't come to my senses for minute or
two; and when l popped my head out Of
the basket never soul was there but the
old grandmother snoring away in her old
chair by the fire.
But though they saved their still, they
couldn't get over the selling of the drink;
that was plain enough against them;
against Terence Mccarthy, that is, who
lived In the cabin. He was just the cats
paw of the men that worked the still but
he got all the punishment more's the
pity! Well, summoned Terence, and
got him fined hundred pounds; and as
there was nothing in the world in his hut
but the old turf kish as I'd kicked the
bottom out of, and his grandmother's
Chair that had been matched with bit Of
-oat straw, took out body-warrant, as
we call it, and made up my mind I'd have
to take my friend to Dublin Castle.
Now, Ireland's q different country alto
gether from this; and after we'd had our
sessions, and the magistrates had signed