Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1888-12-06
OLD JIM'S TIGER.
1t Is Big Fellow, the Skin Meas
uring Over Nine Feet.
He Tolls In His Own Peculiar Way How,
with His "Good Dogs and
Powerful Fine Gum" He
Killed 1t.

Walking down the broad street of
L. one afternoon recently, l CHANGED
to enter store upon some trifling pre-
tense, an to my delight l discovered,
stretched ever a dry-goods box, the
largest and handsomest tiger skin l
ever saw 1t was evidently fresh
killed, for the blood was scarcely dry
In places and to the touch it felt as
velvety as though the 1.-the form it
had covered still stalked in stately
sovereignty through the glancing
shadows of Suwanee's swamps!
"Who killed ftp" was of cor .oo a,
first question; indeed, seeit O. this tho
clerk anticipated us vii "a: .sOld Uncle
Jim killed it, and jr.st broueht It in a
moment ago." Where is old Jimen
asked my co..npanion, DR.. c., with
some Gag erness, glancing around the
s.ore' 'Ah! here you are, old man!
CJme down off that barrel and tell us
about it! How is it you have quit that
potato patch and gone to killing
panthers nowp" Old Jim's black face
frightened with a proud, responsive
grin, as he slid down off the barrel
and approached the doctor, doffing a
greasy and battered wool hat; Oats
ges only tiger, doctor; him no painter,
him 'tirely too big for panterr' and
OLD jim glanced with conscious pride
towards the dry-goods box. "All
right, Jim. have it your own way
painter or tiger-he is whale; about
nine feet long, should say" measur-
ing it critically with one eye closed,
half quizzing.
mine foot and two inches, sab,
'zactly; Mr.. W jest now meaiered
hit wild his little string and old Jim
munched away contentedly at his
dimes worth of stale cheese and
crackers.
i'Aii right then, that settles the size
of him; now, you go ahead, Jim, and
tell how you took him in," remarked
the doctor, smilingly.
Old Jim is a good-natured darkey OF
about sixty years experience (mostly
acquired in his cane and cotton
patches), and, feeling himself the hero
of the occasion, he took his position
in the middle of the floor, and with his
old gun laid affectionately across his
knees, begun his interesting recital.
This gun, by the way, deserves descrip.
ton, claiming. as it does, a part Of
honor in this story. 1t is an ancient
double-barrel ''muzzle loader" the
rusted barrels Of which are tied down
to the badly battered stock with old
cotton and Irvine strings! The left
lock is hammerless and the tube to the
right barrel destroyed almost beyond
recognition. However, he manages tc
shoot it by using old musket caps. Blu,
to return to Uncle Jim and his tiger
yarn.
swell, you see, gentlemen, rolling
up the whites Of his eyes till they
looked like glass marbles. "you SET
nv place runs back, hit do, right
onter de Wakasassy swamp aud bein'
as keeps some good dogs. and has {
powerful fine gun, l natchully goes q
huntln' sum times, tho my ole lady
do say when she quarlin' like, dat
dug nuthin' else but hunt
$50 yistiddy mornin' had biznes
down in de back field-dat's what
tells her-dat has bisness down in d,
back field. / had sum taters dow
dere whut needed lookin' after. fur d
grass is erbout tuck um. but dem dog
is mighty fon' of me, and dey tuck ell
foller me out dere, dey did. and fore
knows it. one or dem puppies gins t
snooze err round er log, and den gin
TO whine. and ole Remus, he trots u
dere. and bristles all up, and gin t
open on dat track like he wur mad
and stop hoein' de taters a minnit
aud lows TO him: 'Remus, amt We
shame er yer ole fool self, lettin den