Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1890-01-09
A WALKING MATCH,
Detroit Hotel Manager Does 9 $40
Turn with His Quests.

Detroit Hotel Manager Does 9 $40
Turn with His oussts
Z. 7. Osborn, manager Of the Girls
void house, hates to swallow bluff as
h. does a poor meal. This Characteristic
occasionally makes things unpleasant.
Not long since two fly young drum
mers put up at his hostelry. They hadn't
as much business on hand as they had
time, and one of them suggested walk.
Mr.. Osborn mentioned some pleasant
points in the city that were within a
reasonable distance. One knight of the
grip proposed that Osborn accompany
them. The other promptly intimated
that the manager had about as satisfac-
tory an equipment for pedestrianism as
duck or mud turtle.
"Why, he couldn't. make a block in
ten minutes and keep it up for an hour.
He was built for holding down an Office
chair or the cushioned seat of a coupe.
Bat he couldn't walk little bit. He's
quitter, sure"
Osborn went back at the traveller, and
the argument waxed so hot that nothing
less than an actual test could settle it.
"Here, you fellows, I'll tell you what
I'll do" shouted Osborn. "We'll walk
from here up to the bridge, across to the
park, around the island and back to the
hotel. The last man in does the grand
for the other two. Now dance or stop
your music. Anybody who thinks l
can't walk is playing with fire. Any
body can be an awful walker with his
jaw, but want business, that's what's
gnawing at me. Get a gait on you or
else pull in your advertisements"
The match was soon made and the trio
went out Jefferson avenue with heads
up, arms swinging with elbows nearly
on level with shoulders, teeth set and
chests expanded. They looked like vet
eran athletes.
An hour or SO later the procession was
coming back. 1t looked like the break
ing up of Manitoba winter. Every
signal of distress was hoisted. Osborn
was trailing, but grave as pink eyed
bulldog. His coat was over his arm, vest
thrown back, collar Tapping from one
lone button in the rear, hat on the outer
most peak of his head and legs moving
with stiffness that showed them numb.
A little way ahead were the drum
mers, looking as though the hose had
been turned on them and their clothes
hung promiscuously about their persons
just to dry out. All were putting like
overloaded locomotives, and each block
ahead looked like a two mile stretch.
Everybody looked, everybody wondered
and everybody laughed.
At the corner of Woodward the trav-
cling duet swung down toward Con-
gress. Osborn was going so slow that
you had to set stake to see him move,
but he saw an opening and soaked the
spurs into himself. He would run down
to Griswold and thence to the hotel,
winning by squirt on the finish. AS he
crossed Woodward on a dog trot the fes-
tive drummers caught light of him, saw
his game and struck a sickly looking
hen canter. The outcome was that all
three struck the big hotel door at once,
collided, scrambled, got tangled up, and
finally rolled in neck and neck.
Osborn swore he won by an eyebrow,
but the claim was disallowed and the
match called draw. None of the con-
testants laid up cent, and each one is
fabricated till he smells like veterinary
dispensary. News.