The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1883-05-10
Slu Old Mnsa

Old Nose was slowly making his way
down Bay street. with his fish-line and
a tin can containing bait in one hand
and a stick in the other, when he sud
denly espied small boy coming out on
store with a rather suspicious-lookine
flask. Assuming one OF his blandest
smiles he stopped the boy. when the fol-
lowing conversation ensued:
Little boy, whi.t's yo' name?"
My names Pete, sir. =
Now amt YOU see dat? l knowed.
What's yo pa name?"
MY pa name Caesar. sir.''
For de Lords sake, dis amt Cesar :
chilei Yes, dis must be Caesars boy,
kase | see de 'zemblunce. What is you
dom down town by 70 ser? What you
got in dat bottle?'
my pa is sick. an he SEN me down
to git twenty-five cent wuff er whisky in
dis bottle. :
Now, des Hssen at dat-po' Caesar
done gone an CIT sick. Look yer, Pete,
did you git good Ticker? Kase you
know sick people is got to have good
stuff. If you gin um bad whisky hit
makes um wuss, an some oh desc yer
white sto' keepers cheats like de very
debbul. Lemme see if dat man glib you
de generwine article"
Taking hold of the flask he gently
pulls it away from the boy, who re-
luctantly lets 90. Possessing the flask.
Old Nose draws the cork, places the
mouth to his lips and takes a swallow.
"Well, dat's putty fair-an' dis is Cse-
sar's boy. Now, who would er thunk
| dat | was gwine ter see Caesars chile
an hear dat po' Cesar was sick dis
mornin'?"
Then, laying down his stick and can
upon the head of barrel that was
standing at the side of the store door.
he put his hand upon the boys head and
taking another pull at the flask, this
time somewhat longer than at first, he
said:
Hits mighty good ting met you
dis mornin', Pete, kase if dat had er bin
po' whisky in dis bottle it mought er
killed yo' pa. When you 90 home you
tell Caesar you see me; you heah? Tell
yo' par you see me-"
Here he raised the flask to take a
third pull, when the boy became alarm
ed, and in timid and frightened tone
demonstrated, saying:
mister, please don't be drinkin' up
| dat whisky; my pa gwine ter beat me
| when l get home"
A scowl Immediately appeared on old
Moses brow, which quickly deepened
to an expression of awful anger, ex-
tending over his entire countenance,
| and lowering the flask he replied:
Look here, boy, is you done gone
clean crazy? What do you mean by
speakin' to me in that tone OBJ voice?
Shut up yo' mouf, sab. Boy, if Caesar
knowed you talk to me dat way, he
take de very hide off'n yo' back, sab
yes, sab, he'd take de very hide off n
yo back, sab. Here. take dis bottle an
90 on home, an don't yer stop to play
on de road, an if yer knows what's good
for yer don't yer tell Cesar dat you see
me and talk dat way to me dis mornin'
kase eff yer does he's gwine to skin yer
alive"
Then taking an extra long pull he re-
placed the cork, and handing the half
empty flask to the boy, gathered up his
can and stick and shuflled on around
the corner toward the dock, where he
placed his back against the sunny side
of the warehouse, and dropping in his
line quietly nodded while waiting for
the customary bite from some accom-
nodating catfish, which he never fails
to eaten, though he may be fast asleep
when the fish takes hold.