The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1875-11-25
yoHs nI1Fk,xs ON Hrs Muscnn.
OF all bad things by which mankind are curs'd,
Their own bad tempers surely are the worst.
-fCumberland

1
-tCumberland.
Now, John Blifkins isn't bad fellow,
but his temper is certainly one that he
might improve. So in order that the
STAR readers may render thanks on this
Day of Thanksgiving, that they are not
troubled with the same complaint, we
will relate what befell John few even
ings since. He was in bad humor all
day, so he quit work quite early that af-
ternoon Che works over on Central ave-
nue), and wended his way home. AS he
neared his comfortable little cottage on
Mound street, 1t occurred to him that
bis wife had told him in the morning
that she was going down to 'smothers,"
and wanted him to come down and they'd
both stay to tea.
just at this time he was in no mood to
go anywhere but home, and as he got
nearer and nearer the madder he grew
And ,yhen he had knocked on his own
| door the second time and received no
response, he was as mad as March
| hare. Not making any headway towards
/
cradle execution in the way of barking
his knuckles, he left the door and en-
tered the side gate. He tried the back
door; 1t was locked, OF course. And the
| windows-he was baffied there. He
returned to the front with his face the
length of fence rail, but with a look OF
fierce determination. Setting his grub
| basket down just inside the gate, he
walked out into the street and gathered
up bowlder and made for the front
cellar door, and by two or three vigorous
door neighbor came out 10 volunteer the
Information that "Mrs. Blifkins stuck
the door-key under the front slep."
Then he did boil; and yanking that key
from its hiding place he jammed it in The
lock, opened the door and slid inside as
though he was creased. Getting light
on the situation by raising the blinds, he
flung his hat at the CRATE, and his over
coat in the corner, and sat down to
think. And there he sat nursing his
wrath, to keep it warm, for more than
an hour: A knock at the front door dis
turbed his reverie. He Strengthened UP,
yowing to himself that ii it was a tin
peddler or sewing-machine man, he'd
kick him into the middle Of next week.
lie opened the door, but no one appeared.
He must have been mistaken. 1t might
have been the next house, he thought.
He went back, and being cooler by this
time, the thought struck him that a fire
would be an improvement. He was get
ting his work in tirst-rate ON the reIuc-
tant kindling-wood and wet coal, and
was on his knees blowing away for dear
life, when-'.raP," "rap," came another
summons, this time quite distinct.
He bounced up and pulled the door
open with Will. Nobody there! He
stepped outside, peered up and down
the street, but not soul was stirring
save the familiar form OF "Whlsting
Charley" slouching along in the gloom.
By this time BlifkinS was nervous. He
didn't understand it. He sat down
again, however, and had given the crate
few remorseless 'jabs" with the
poker, when bang, bang, went that much
afflicted door. "rhis things getting
little monotonous," said Bill; and he
plunged for the sidewalk. He was just
coat-tail and a soiled pair of boot-heels
as they whiskey around the corner but
few steps away.
"Ah, ha. just let me catch that in
fernal little rascal. Pll break every
bone in his devilish carcass, see if 1
don't. And Pll catch him, TOO, or my
name amt Blifkins."
SO he laid a plan Tor the capture OF
the offending urchin. He passed out { on
u full handy the back door into the side
alley and stationed himself jam up
against the front gate, the latch of which
he left undone to enable him to make
fast time. He waited. 1t was now quite
dark. Itwasn't a comfortable trysting
place, and poor Blifkins was about
ready to give it up, when again his ears
were saluted by tne old familiar sound.
Out popped Mir. Blifkins, with flame in
his eye aud murder (almost) in his
heart. "I've got you this time, you
heathenish blackguard. I'll learn you TO
bang on mans door just tor fun, you
bloody wretch.D Whack, whack. At
this moment Mrs. John Blifkins, the in
nocent victim OF her husbands ter
rible excitement, screamed out:
John, you John Blifkins, you
two-headed idiot you. Ii didn't know
your voice pd think twas some escaped
lunatic. What do you mean, you ILL
natured villain, striking your own loving
wife with your fist. Come right in this
house. and if you don't get right down
on your knees and beg my pardon Pll
ne yer darken your door again."
The nextmornlng all the neighbors had
it that "the brute, John Blfkins, beat
his wife almost TO jelly because she
didn't have his sumner ready on timAO