Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1885-05-09
PRESIDENT CLEVELAND.

An Interesting Story of His Young Days.
How He Beat the village Champion
at Draughts.
There comes pleasant story to my
ears of President Cleveland. 1t goes to
show that in his younger days, before
ambitious throughts began to surge
through his brain, he could not have
been the sententious, phlegmatic person
over whom Washington correspondents
are worrying themselves to. death with
bits of description just now. On one &C.
casion, at least, he saw the humorous
side of a little episode and enjoyed a
quiet laugh. YouGg Mr.. Cleveland
sleeve" was his title in the days write
of-happened to be spending few days
at the home of a relative in reposeful
hamlet, one of those places whose placid
excitements alternated among the rail-
road station, the meeting house, and the
village store, where the mail was pigeon
holed, and everything from rum and
calico to fiat head nails and ginger cake
were doled out. The young mans visit
was during the winter, when the place
was desolate and dreary enough. When
he got his bearings, tired of tramping
about in the snow and ice. he sometimes
dropped into "Uncle Silas'," the village
store. One gray-skied afternoon he came
upon the regulation circle of gossips. The
familiar old franklin was blazing out its
heat over in the corner, and the solons
were busy Eliminating and varying the
monotonv of their thoughts with fire.
quent "chaws." One of the characters
of the place was sandy-haired, small
eyed, pucker faced Ike Sanders, prodi-
gious boaster, and self-constituted au-
thority, from the text of the parsons last
sermon to the shingfing of the dilapida-
ted school house. This local Sir Oracle
was confirmed checker player. Lazy
and shiftless, the long winter hours were
passed by him up at Uncle Silas', where
from a favorite corner he watched for
victims. On the afternoon that Grover
entered the excitement over in the cor
ner seemed to be running over. Even
Uncle Silas had quilted his seat behind
the counter, and with his spectacles
pearched up among his thin locks. his
hands clasped on his back bone, he stood
eagerly watching the checker board. A
milder-faced, middle-aged little man was
nervously bent over Ike's slow and i'm
pressive moves of the checkers. The
game was close, and Sanders opponent,
NO other than the village schoolmaster,
had held slight advantage; suddenly
Ike surrendered one of his men to the
foe, who promptly siezed the opportuni-
ty. Another man was yielded. and then
the trap became apparent, and the de-
voted dominic rushed to his ruin.
"Ha-ha! hobo! Why, you can't play
checkers any more than you can scrape
the sky" was Isaac's taunt as he grasped
his victory.
IF ye'd set down and study the board
for q couple o. year yes mout win game
once in a while, but sho' yer all poor
fool folks at checkers roun' here any
where"
The poor schoolmaster, his thin cheeks |
pinking with modification, shrank back |
with faint excuse for his defeat. Ike
carelessly rearranged the droughts, |
boasttully placed the board over on the
firkin, and looked up with a challenge
in his eye "Say, Uncle Silas," he called |
out, "have We got anybody else thinkin' |
I guess yer haint; SOS nobody wants to
one board away" Uncle Silas rubbed |
his wrlnkled hand across his forehead. |
admitted that Isaac was a master at the |
game, and was making preparations to
place the well-fgured checkers behind |
him on the desk, when the young
stranger, plying the defeated schoolmas-
ter, having watched the game with some
interest, and inclined to attribute it's loss
more to nervousness than lack of skill |
found voice.
II say, Mr.. Sanders. would you minG
trying game with me?"