Mexico weekly ledger., 1884-12-18
FAMILY FEUD ILLUMINATED.
War in the ssGh0st District'...ssAunt
Sally" Warns mp s'Uncle Cy.".-.A
Domestic Drama.

S0Ily' HATHis up Uucle Cyss"sA
Domestic Drama.
Matters and things are not as calm and |
serene, so to speak, out in "The District"
Is they might be, and the locality is just |
now exercised over little affair that |
few days ago between two
we'll known families, laughable to some,
but serious, at least for the time being,
to one of the participants.
At the time mentioned, "Uncle Cy."
Scott declared war afresh ON his neigh
bors, the Creaseys, between whom, for
many moons it seems, there has existed
bitter rivalry and family feud. "Uncle
Cy's" horses were the cause of the row
we now speak of; they infringed their
equine presence upon the Creasey home
stead until their depredations became
intolerable, when the dogs were turned
loose at them. This aroused the dormant
ire in "Uncle Cy's" breast, and lie went
over to see about it. "Col. John" wasn't
at home, but his wife-"Aunt Sally"-and
the children were. tits alleged that they
came in for fair share of uncalled- for
abuse, when the wife of the sold Hero of
the Ghost District" took up and main
tanned the Creasey end of the trouble
with the courage worthy of Spartan
mother. firing of the racket, and armed
with long hickory pole, "Aunt Sally"
bore down upon the over-confdent Cyrus,
and it is said that the surrounding echoes
of this rugged black jack region are still
repeating a medley of whacks, bangs,
yells, and other unearthly sounds, sup
posed to have emanated from full grown
man about the size of Cy. Scott in
mortal agony.
1t may be added here that about two or
three years ago "Aunt Sally" SO we are
informed, had ten-round battle with
Mrs. Scott, in which she knocked her an
tagonist clear out of time, and came up
to the scratch smiling in way that was
warning to her foes. ssAunt Sally"
never dropped off of no this years Christ
mas tree, you can bet-she is cold biz, +"
as all the people in the region round
about "Ghost Hollow" know.
Let the "Haunted Hill Poet" tell the
heartrending story:
THE BATTLE.
The bitter strife OF the campaign
OF Eighty Four was ended;
And friend aud foe now once again
In blissful action blended.
The North and South shook hands in peace,
Each man his brother greeted,
And swore that ancient feuds should cease
And oft their VOWS repeated.
We said each man--but we must state
In this we were mistaken,
From this fond dream, sad to relate,
We must, alas awaken.
Not far beyond the Haunted Hill
There dwelt-- dwell---two neighbors
Who spent their time with hearty will
In agricultural labors.
And though the twain were justly vain
OF their fine large tomatoes.
'Tis said they often raised more 'cane"
Than cabbage or potatoes.
They loved each other--pone too well
Alas they were but human:
One was man. and. sad to tell,
She-well, she was a woman.
Their stock devoured each others crop;
At this we need not wonder,
And they both said this thing must
Or else they would raise thunder.
So when her COW destroyed last week
The product of his labor,
He swore that he would vengeance wreak
Upon his fragile neighbor.
And then he summoned all his strength.
And prompted by ambition.
We see him starting forth at length
Upon his expedition.
Her house at last he views afar.
The center of attraction,
And like gallant man of war
At once prepares for action.
He charged upon her children small,
So few. 30 fair and tender.
And quickly forced them one and all
To q. s. surrender.
But soon the tide of battle turned.
Alas! for our poor hero.
His hopes that once so brightly burned
Now settled down to zero.
For she appeared with club in hand
And made sudden sally.
And as his ground he could not stand
He fed across the valley.
But sad to say our hero gay.
While fleeing from the slaughter,
Fell needless, headlong on his way
Into stream OF water.
And as she followed in hts path
Soon there she helpless found him,
And In her fiery pent-up wrath
Great Scott ! how she did pound him,
Al length her Amazonian grip
Upon him she releases,
And as he makes the homeward trip
Each Jump his speed in-Creaseys.
And when he reached his own frsside
He sat him down to ponder,
And let US hope there he did decide
No more from home TO wonder.
On, may no more the streams be red,
No more may this war-cry sever,
May they LET the dead past bury the dead
And live in peace forever.
Alb Brown. who has been in the
emDi0y of r. r Chnnl. far eo,,,o So, i,