The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1879-04-24
THE "SNAPTOWN TOMMYHAWK."
BY VIM. M. r. ROUND.

1t looked very like p1g-sty; but 1t
wasn't. It was the Office of the Snap
town Tommyhaa0k, and, in the estima-
ton of Simon Slope, the editor-in-chief
and principal proprietor, was rather
imposing building. The first number
of the paper has not yet made it's ap-
pearance; BUTT all went well. Itwould
soon burst upon the world with meteor
like brilliancy, and more than verify the
expectations of the public, which were
very high, / can assure you.
Simon Slope had projected the paper;
Simon Slope had formed the company
that was to publish it; Simon Slope had
built the Office; Simon Slope had been
chiefly instrumental in securing the
type and paper; and Simon Slope had
written the most brilliant of the edit
orials and the most pungent of the par
agraphs; and yet you will be surprised
to learn, my reader, that Simon Slope
was only IL years of age.
The Snaptown Tommyhaa0k grew
out of public need. The boys of
Snaptown had been for years groaning
under parental oppression and the sys-
tematic tyranny of their elders, and
they needed an organ. They needed
mouthpiece, through which they might
Lift up their voices against their op-
pressors. When a months half-hoi-
days had been taken away from them, be-
cause they had merely driven COW in
to the village school house and put
cayenne pepper on the Westinghouse
stove, they felt that the time had come
when they should make their wrongs
known to the public, and appeal to that
sense of justice that is supposed to
slumber in the heart of every COM
munity.
One day the Snaptown Coawo1at had
published paragraph rejecting I'M
kindly upon the boys of the place, and
Simon Slope had read it. He could
hardly contain himself with indignation
as the words sank into his heart; and,
as soon as his father had turned his
back, he rolled the scurrilous sheet into
ball, and, thrusting it into his trousers
pocket, rushed out of the house to a
warm corner by the Westinghouse
horse-sheds, where the boys were wont
to assemble for the twilight loafng.
Look here!" he shouted. Il say,
this is too bad. Nobody is going to
stand this sort of thing" And he
pulled the rumpled paper from among
the tops, jack-knives, fishing tackle and
chewing-gum in his pocket. "Now, you
fellows, just listen, an I'll read you
something that'H make your hair fairly
stand on end. Here it's" And he read
aloud the following paragraph:
MIsCHIEvoUs BoYs.-When we consider the
.doings of the boys of this town, we feel such a
sense of Indignation that we feel that we should
like to exchange our editorial pen for good
thick birch rod and give them thrashing all
round We have heard q good many COM
plants Of their behavior, but we did not fully
realize the prevailing spirit of mischief until it
came home to our own door. We did not mind
their playing ball before our office till Pande-
monium would be quiet in comparison to the
street. We did not heed, or at least pretended
not to heed, the hieroglyphics with which our
garden-fence had been decorated. We should
have felt quite lost if an occasional pane had
not been broken in our Office windows And
we looked upon the hanging of dead cat to
our front door as a harmless pleasantly. But,
when it comes to stretching wire across the
sidewalk at such heights that we alternately
nome at night; when 1t comes to putting loaded
'stlcks into our wood-pile-one of which blew
up our office-stove few weeks ago-we feel
that patience ceases to be virtue. and that
honest citizens have some rights that boys are
bound to respect. We hope this hint will be
taken IN the proper quarters, and that sundry
parents in this town win heed Soomon's wise
admonition. We shall be happy to furnish
rods.
"There!" exclaimed Simon, when he
had finished reading. "What do YOU
think of that?"
Nobody amt willin' to let us have
little fun," said Tom Stokes, Sirnon's
bosom friend, and the very boy who
bored the hole and put the powder into
a stick of the editors wood.
Something ought to be done about
it," exclaimed a red-headed urchin,
whose special recreation was the draw
Sng of caricatures on doors and fences.
I'll make a picture of him hanging to
gallows. Paint it in red on his front
door," ~ 8l
Il might lick his little boy" said
pugnacious urchin, "but I've done it so
often already that he wouldn't know
w AA0'o o"oo AO1, oil i LII d1rdlQ CWOulunG
do no good" ao aItla
" We might serenade him with tin
horns and tin pans" said another boy;
"but he's so used to it now that he
sleeps straight through it."
"Ill tell you what let's do" said ST.
mon. "Let's start paper and pay him
back in his own coin. Sarse for sarse-
that's what say"
"Takes a lot of money to start a pa
per-" demonstrated the heiroglyphic boy.
"Bother!" said Simon. lit don't
cake much if you do your own work of
it. We can buy press for SIS, and buy
secondhand type by the pound for a
little more'n the price of old lead"
where you goin' to get your SIS to
buy your press?" asked one practical
youth.
Earn it, you BOBBY" said Simon.
An who's goin' to write the paper,
after you get things? Seems to me it