Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1877-07-21
ButterWick's Weakness.

scrlptlon TO the missionary society.
The following conversation took place !:
"Your husband is a Presbyterian,
believe, Mrs, Butterwick ?" said the
deacon.
mo" replied Mrs. B. "He belongs
to everything else on earth but the
church. That's what l say to him,
that while he is joining so much he'd
better join something decent, that'll
do him some good. But he says he has
no time. He belongs to about forty
six secret societies of various kinds.
He's the awfulest man for such things
you ever saw, and all the time run
ming after them. Monday night he
goes round to the Free Masons, Tues
day he associates with the odd Fellows,
Wednesday night he goes fooling along
with the knights of Pythias, Thurs
day night is his temperance lodge,
Friday is his Red Man night,
and all day Sunday he is visiting the
sick and the widows and orphans of
dead members. If there were sixty
days in a week I believe Butterwick
would have some lodge to attend to
every night.
"Mr, Grimes, that man actually
knows ninety-four grips and over two
hundred pass words. And he's awful
mysterious about them. The other
day I saw him swinging his arms
about kinder queer at breakfast, and
presently he stops and says: "Thun-
der, forgot where was Mary Jane,
you saw that? 1t was grand hail
ing sign. Swear you'll never reveal"
And you, know, he'll wake up nights
and ask me if heard him talking in
his sleep, and if I say yes he'll Look
scared to death, and get outhis pistol,
and say he'll blow my brains out il l
ever repeat one Of those passwords.
And he is all the time practicing on
me, but he won't even tell me what
any of them are, although he knows
I'm just dying with curiosity. He
says he knows more secrets than any
other man in the whole state, and he
says if he was to tell one of them, those
knights and Patriotic Sons and the
rest of them, would put him into
vault and seal him up alive, or tear
him to pieces with red-hot pinchers.
Says they'd bruise him into teernity
quicker'n wink. Worries me nearly
to death, s'pose he was to become
temporarily insane and gush, but,
what, d become of me and the children?
"He's so careless, too. I see him
giving the grand hailing sign to the
slopman yesterday, and the slopman
asked Bridget if Mr.. Butterwick had
the St. Vitus dance bad and | know
when he tried one of those grips on
the man that came to tune the piano,
the man said if he squeezed his hand
that hard again he'd give Mr.. Butter
wick bloody nose.
"And, as for professions. Well, it
seems to me that when Butterwick
amt at lodge, he's marching in a
procession. Always some funeral or
celebration or something, and he
turns out and goes skipping around
the streets, dressed in a cooked hat
and sword, and looking fierce enough
to frighten anybody out of their wits.
And he told me that sometimes he
gets all these grips mixed, and he'll
give Mason an Odd Fellows grip,
and tell me not to be surprised if he
is kidnapped and made way with be-
fore morning. And he'll kiss his
children goodbye and making his last
little arrangements SOS everything IL
be straight when he's gone; and then
the children and nell cry, and he
look solemn, and 60 to bed to rest be-
fore he meets his doom. But nothing
ever came of it, They never touch
ed him.
"You ought just to see the letters
that come here DIRECT to him. 'E.
Butterwick, and then a whole alpha
bet of letters strung after HE name.
He's a right worshipful grand master
and sir knigh+, and an eminent past
grand sachem, and chief magnificent
reverend Druid priest, and a whole lot
more such things as that, enough to
take your breath away; and with it
all he's no more stuck up than you
are. Just as humble as lamb. And
he says he can reel out more stuff that
they say at the ceremonies than d fill
q omau library. and he has about