Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1888-04-14


a BATTLE IN TRPBRlRY.
Bsme ~ tho Uses to which . Good nlssk-
thorn stick Can Be Put
From the London Graphic.l
It was on the Tpperary race course.
hard by the Limerick junction. As I
was passing by the tents saw two men.
clutched together, issuing from . tent.
rot exactly fighting. but trying to
aght-an grips. as we say, and very
close ones. BIZ. stammering out their
hoarse shibboleths. Some one rushed
up and dealt one of the contestants
tremedous blow. The crowd around
swiftly retreated, leaving q very wide
space for the champions, who quickly
gathered TO the fray as If led thither by
a sort of instinct. Being o non-comba-
tant /, too, retreated as fast as / could,
and. occupying safe spot on an ad-
,oining fence, surveyed the field of bat
tie. BY this time there were some
seventy or one hundred men engaged,
and all, what was most astonishing,
preserving the most perfect silence.
Nothing but the blows of the stick,
and the ahah" with which the blows
were accompanied, could be heard.
Ever and anon, from the surro unding
crowd some fresh warrior eager for
fame, or for perhaps only to enjoy the
pleasure of feeling the "crag ha ell" ris-
ing aagin" the hand, broke through,
and, as it seemed to me. went stra ght
for the nearest head. Not cry of any
sort was uttered, though some men
we're felled like bullocks, and sticks
were broken from the violence of the
blows. Relief parties from the onlook-
ing crowd would rush out and drag
some stunned man from under the feet
of those who were not yet hors de
combat.
The battle had ragged for some ten or
fifteen minutes when the cavalry, who
in those days were always stationed on
the Tipperary race-course, worked into
the field of war, and tramping and
prancing around in every direction
put an end to the combat No one was
arrested. The factions had had their
bit of sport and the lawyers we're never
fee the richer. Had there been time
and opportunity to allow Tor the mar
shaling of the factions, something like
more regular warfare might have been
seen. But on this occasion so far as I
could Judge the advice of the old dying
stalwart was followed. Said the stall
wart: @My son, take my stick; don't
let it disgrace the man who has used it
so often and with so much glory.
Whenever you see a row go into it,
and, once in, wherever you see head,
hit it.. The old stalwart here grew
faint, and the priest entering, prepared
to quit the transitory scene like good
if bellicose Christian.
A properly cut blackthorn exhibits
one little popularity known to all con-
noisseurs of that weapon. Its sides
are adorned at intervals with little
clusters of spurs or sharp points.
Three such spurs go to a cluster, and
your good blackthOrn exhibits fine
supply of such clusters, known, l
think, as "triplets." This little pecul-
iarity of the blackthorn led once to a
neat discovery in court of Justice. A
countryman, whose forehead had been
laid open from a blow received in the
progress of row, instituted legal pro-
ceedings against constable as the man
who had struck him. He swore straight
against the constable, exhibited his
wound. and firmly averred that said
constable had smitten him with his
baton. The Judge, contemplating the
wound, shrewdly noticed at one point
of the red scar the three little dents,
which sufficiently established the fact
that no baton, but blackthorn stick,
had inflicted the wound. Presently
another witness mounted the table and
swore that the policeman never struck
the fellow at all, but would vouchsafe
no other information. He was there to
clear the policeman = that, was all.
Getting up from the witness chair, he
drew out from beneath the same re-
markably fine blackthorn stick, we'll
grown and we'll cut, exhibiting all the
interesting little natural peculiarities
of that weapon, "triplets" go-leoir
(Anglice galore) along its black and
shining sides. A sudden thought struck
the Judge. He was County Court
Judge and invariably addressed as
@your Honor"
@Stay, my man," said the Judge.
sWas it with that stick you hit him ?"
ut was, your Honor" replied the
fellow, either taken off his guard by
the suddenness of the question. or per
haps in reckless outbreak of pride in
self and weapon.
@And why did you hit him ?"
"Ah, your Honor, sure he was very
noisy and troublesome, and we didn't
want to have any fighting that day for
the polls was about, and I just struck
him little tap to keep him quiet, your
Honor"
Warren Hastings Cruelty.