The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1886-08-08
THE WHISKY. OF THIRTY YEARS AGO.
Traditions of the Old East-End Beverage, and
Its Effect on the Drinkers

"This,' said the Venerable Citizen, as he stood
on the north side of Washington street, on the
square between East and New Jersey streets.
this used to be called the East End Now the
East End has moved on toward the rising sun,
and is popularity supposed to be somewhere near
the Deaf and Dumb Asylum. The Emmett
House over there from the beginning and
for many years known as Little's Hotel There
towers she electric blaze on Sam Dinnin's corner,
like light house, but it fails to save poor
humanity from wreck on the rock-and rye-be-
low.
Speaking of rye" continued the Venerable
Citizen, 81 believe it was greatly more popular
among our best citizens than it is to-day. But
have often thought il the whisky that was drunk
along from 1850 to 1856 had been saved until to-
day, how much more valuable it would have
been, adding in the interest and compound in
terest on the investment But the liquor sellers
of that day. like the liquor drinkers, were very
short-sighted. I don't suppose there is now to
be had for love or money drop of that good old
East-end whisky of thirty years ago.
1T was rather frisky beverage at times for
it was young, then-so young that some of the
boys, as they looked into its amber depths,
declared that they could see in it the outlines of
the old man blowing the corn. If it could have
survived to this day it might have become more
sedate. AS to it's friskiness, remember we'll
meaning young man who used to keep company
with 1t sometimes. On such occasions he would
take possession of the east end and hold it
against all corners. One afternoon, toward sun
down, winding up particularly lively tourna
ment with the fascinating beverage, his little
dog came out to meet him. 1t was like the re-
turn OF the conquering survivor of the Horatii,
who, when his sister, whose lover was one of the
slain Curat, met him with tears, thus sailing
his rejoicing, slew her. When the little dog met
his triumphant master. he was siezed by the tail
and thrown quite across Washington street Some
authorities-indeed it was long legend of the
east end-hold that the animal went up, but
never came down.
1.-THE owner of Little's Hotel in that day. now
long since dead, had been at ono time in his life
river man. He was an elderly but bold man,
and frequently engaged with the whisky of that
period Occasionally James Jams Familiarity
called jim, would sojourn with the hotel man
for week or So AT such times the old gentle
man would take his place in the middle of the
street, which, to his beautifed gaze, was the
swelling tide of the Ohio river, and with legs
wide apart, as if captain on deck of frst-class
mail packet: would thunder his orders to the
crew, the drays and wagons Of the street being
transformed into river craft of various kinds
FROM sidewheelers to coal barges.
"Over there the corner of The alley, now
occupied by the livery stable, is where Bill Wor-
lands grocery was in that day. One Saturday a
printer, sober family man, undertook an en-
gagement with the Eastend beverage He was
little more than beginner, not
ha1ing passed his novitiate, and the
attempt was looked upon by the old stagers as
extra hazardous. But he went on, and on, from
one station of ebriety to another with marvel
Gus success. By o'clock in the afternoon he
was of the opinion he owned the town. 1t wasn't
as large as it now is, and he was usually rather
modest man. He proposed to give his friends a
tangible showing that this assumption of pro-
prietorship was we'll founded. So he bought a
barrel of white fish of Worland, and rolling the
barrel to the edge of the sidewalk began with
great success to give white fish to each passer
by, pressing the gift upon them with great but
firm urhanity. The news came to his wife, a
practical, matter fact woman, that the hus-
band was doing the philanthropic act in great
style.
Where did he get his liquors" inquired the
wife coming at once to the main question.
AT Bakes, was the information Putting
on her sun bonnet and look of grim determine
ton. she started out. Mr.. Bake, now long since
dead, was quiet. elderly German, of very
rotund figure, ford face, eyebrows always ele-
waited with what you takel Interrogation, and
a head as bald as setting of white Cochin eggs.
Mr.. Bake had the only billiard table in the East
End, and 1t had as many pockets travelling
mans buster Without word of warning, the
irate wife seized billiard cue, and attacked the
display of bibulous glassware behind the coun-
ter, while the proprietor, with hands uplifted in
powerless protest, neheld and heard the crystal
line crash. With parting ejaculation, the lady
hurled the cue at the mirror, which reflected and
multiplied the glassware exhibit, and that too,
was shattered into thousand gittering frag-
ments.
For many years the old citizens spoke of the
awful destruction and desolation at Balkes. and
even unto this day white fish have failed to re-
gain their pristine popularity"
-as.-