Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1885-04-02
Shinbones, BLOWS the Fife.

| "a
| e"Brudder Petah Maguf,u said Shin
bones Smith, AS he sat in the cabin of the
gentleman addressed one evening last
week: "I's mighty sorry dat yo' couldn'
git ter dat cake musical pahty wot my
| wife glib"
"So'ts I, Brudder ShiHbone'," an
swered Peter: But war too sick fur
| ter see around de cohner. Tole me
bout it.''
oval, chile. dat war great time.
| My ole woman she done gone made up
her mind dat dar'd got ter be blow
out inter ouah house, an she lowed
dat it got ter be somefin' uncommon.
So she gifts up de cake musical pahty."
"Wot am dat?"
'Hole on. chile; Pm a-comin' ter dat
directly. De cake musical pahty am
whar de bosses puts up cake, an folks
wnt comes hab got ter sing or play on
ter some fin ,.an' de one wot does de
best gifts de cake"
"Who am de referee?''
"Some one wot de bosses picks ont.
Wal, last Frid'y night de pahty TUX
place. Oar war Brudtier Parsimony
Higgins dressed in a yal!er jacket an a
big red necktie, an his wife-1e ole
hag-in low neck an shawl sleebes, an !
| wild "a head oh lettuce inter her ha'r.
Oar war Brudder Squeezeout Peabody
| in ii blue ulstah an rubbah boots, an
his ole woman wild hustle onter her
/ big huff fur base e-ball groun'. Den
dar war Brudder Wakeup Misery in a
jacket wild two tails pinned onter 1t ter
make it LUX like a swaller-tail coat, an
he woah carrot fur a b0kay. Den dar
war Miss Jerusha Pillsbury wild dress
all cubbered up wild cabbdge-leahes,
an ole Miss Snackles from Thomps'n
Street, dressed in coffee-hag. an Miss
Polly Haskin done up in ribbins an
bows all Ober, an a whole lot of odder
folks all dressed up in de finest kind ob
style. ! nebbah seed so many burned
proud niggahs in my lie befoah. Dey
put on NOAH style dan butcher serbin'
onter jury. 1t am de mos mahkable
kind ob Ting ter see how much NOAH
folks t'ink ob demse'f wen done gone
got on some good duds. Dey say dat
fine feadders don't make fine birds,
but mos folks acts ez if dey fought
dey did"
oval" continued Shinbones: ode
fust pusson ter do somefin' music war
Miss Jerusha Pillsbury. She got up
AM kinder wiggled roun' a bit, am
lowed dat eff nobody else'd begin she'd
do it, So she kinder hoped out inter
de middle Oh de flooh, an folded her
big yaller hams in front ob her, an put
her burned ugly head onter one side an
let loose. She snged Sweet Wierlets.'
D'yo' eber heah dat song, Bruader
Pete?"
'Nuh," was Peters laconic reply.
oval, 1t am a berry sick kind o. song.
Wen Miss Pilshury rot trough, she
kinder luked roun' am snickered agin,
ez ef she knowed she'd done sometin'
cunnin.' Den she sot down, am Brud-
der Makeup Misery got up wild a jews
harp. I tole vo', chile, dat good-fur-
muffin niggah kin jess fotch de innards
right outn a jewshap. He played
'Climbin' Up De Golding Staihs,' am
felt a-skeered dat he'd git &c cake fur't.
Den gay Miss Squeezeout body she
cake right in her aims, she war so
blame peert. She sashayed out inter
de middle Ob de room, an cleared her
ole froat tell made up my mind she'd
done gone scraped all de skin off'n it.
Den she opened up dat dar fog-whstle
90 hern, an, chile, yo' nebbah heerd
so much noise in de whole .ceuhse ob
yore life."
"Wot war de song, Brulder Shin
bone?n asked Peter.
at war called Some Day or Odder',"
replied the sage: ut warn't much ob
song wen de ole woman got trough
wild it. Den Brudder Pahsmony Hig-
gins brung out dat ole banjo of hisn,
an played de same burned ole tune wot
he's be'n a-pIayin' ebber sence I fust
kuowed him. Brudder Bendoff Crib
bles War dar, too-come all de way
from Willumsbu' He brung long
his ole 'cordeon, an he done gnne an
played de long metah doxoIigy-dog-
gone me for pickles eff he didn't! De
blame ole fool! Just ez eff any pusson
c'u'd git prize Onter hymn. Wal,
my ole woman she lowed dat I'd got
ter go in fur dis hyar cake, too, an she
fixed it fur me ter play las SOS not ter
keep nobody else a-wai.in'. WAL now,
chile, yo' know me. Io' know dat dis
hyar old cullud pusson kin jess blow
de inside right out'n de fife. Wal, chile,
/ got out de ole fife in de mawnin', an
wetted her up and tootei onter her a
bit, an I war ready at night fur ter
knock de wind out'n de hull crowd.
So wen dey all got trough brung out
de ole fife from off de shelf, an walked
out into de middle Oh de room. Dey
all clapped der hams Wien dey see me
a comin' put de ole fife up ter my
mouf an l blowed; but she wouldn't
squeak. Dat kinder s'prised me, chile.
De gals dey luked 'stonished; but Brud-
der Squeezeout he larfed. Wal, put
her up an bIowed agin. Nary squeak.
Brudder Squeeze@ut he larfed ag!in.
| seq ter him, sez J: 'Wot yo' larfin'
bout, niggah?'
"Larfin' at yo', niggah.. Yo' bust
yo'se'f yu' don't tex keer,' seq he to
me, seq he.
"WaI, / lowed dat de fife wanted
victim, am let de watah run onter it
a bit. Den l blowed ag'in; but she
wouldn't wuck. Dat Squeezeout Pea
body he mos larfed hisse'f ter def.
"'Luk inter de innards oh de fife,
Brudder Shinuone',' sez he ter me, seq
he, Wien he got trough larfin'.
"Den l 'spected wot war de mattah.
got piece ob wiah an stuck her m
ter de fife, an shuah 'nuf dar war
somefjn' in dap."
"Wot war it, Brudder Shinbone'?"
asked Peter.
"Doggone me fur pickles! shouted
hinbones, in great wrath: Il dunno,
chile; I couldn't get 'em Quit am dar
vet. But knowed from de way da
burned Squeezcont larfed dat he done
it. AM, chile, went fur him."
"What did yo' do ter hirno' asked
Peter eagerly.
"Chile, / made up my mind I'd stuff
dat niggah like he done gone stuffed
de fife. I grabbed de fife, ar ram
med her down his froat, an' pounded
onter it wild my first. Brudder Petah