Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-07-10
THE ARIZONA KICKER.
No Onico Yet But Lots of HonOrs Have
 Been Thrnst on Its Editor.

A@~-~-~@-
 We extract the following from the last Issue of the Arizona Kicker:
 Nor YET.-In reply to "Anx-ous In- quirer," of Philadelphia, we would say that we hold no political or appointive office whatever. Right here it would be very appropriate for us to add that we want nothing of the sort, And that if the President would tender us Cabinet position we should refuse it. We ought to say so, but we don't propose to. We have been ready for the last two years to take most any thing we could get our hands on in the way of an office, but the opportunity hasn't dropped on our side of the fence. While we are the editor, publisher and proprietor of a great weekly newspaper, and while we con- duct a job office, newspaper, grocery, saddlery, hardware, butcher shop, milli- nery store, feed store and signal station all under one roof, there is still an aching void. While our contemporaries may play hypocrite and liar, we see no occasion to conceal our real feelings. We want office of some kind, and we'll get it or bust lung.
 HIS HEAD IS LEvEL.-Last Wednes- day night, when returning home from a call at the two-story adobe of the Widow Glassfield's, and just as we were passing the ruins of old Fort Todd, we were fired upon three times in rapid suc- cession. We didn't stop to inquire the gentleman's name, nor to ask the occa- sion of his hilarity, but covered the mile of sandy road leading into town in something like five minutes. Next AN hn ina n see what we could see, and it didn't cost us three minutes time to discover who fired those shots. There were the foot prints of a bow-legged mana man so bow-legged that no one could mistake his identity. We returned to town and set out to hunt up Prof. Monckton, who has been playing an accordion in some of the first-class saloons, and who was gone" on the widow without our knowl- edge. We had some music in our hip pocket for his private ear, but a brief search disclosed the fact that he had skipped the town. He had seen us go- ing out to look up his tracks, and had at once bolted into the sage-brush.
 TRY IT ONCE-Two month ago the postmaster of this town didn't care a cent whether our mail reached us or not, and every complaint we made was received with ill-disguised contempt. We brought matters to a climax by en couraging him to attempt to horsewhir us. As soon as he had struck the first blow we sailed in, and his friends say that he was tho worst licked man ever heard of in Arizona. Since that date nothing is too good for us. He sends q saN Inx ,.j cvcry one Of our subscribers gets his Kicker so promptly that the paper feels hot when it reaches him.
 Mem.-If your postmaster won't travel in tho right bridle-path, haste him.
 HAD TO BE DoNE.-Six months age thls town was full of drunkards and black-legs and professional terrors Every ono feared the crowd, and the sheriff himself got drunk so often that ho help could be had from him. Where is the crowd to-day? Gone! Dug out Disappeared! What caused it? The Kicker opened upon them without feaI or favor. They threatened us. We loaded our gun and went out and dropped Sam Barlow with a ball in the leg, winged Jim Sampson at long range
 
 turned the post-oflice corner. We gave four of the gamblers a day to pack uI in, furnished the rope that hung Jacl Beavers, and it was our gun that went off when Deadwood Hank tumbled from the bridge.
 Last night the representative citizen: of the town rendered us a banquet and presented us with an ice pitcher as { token of their appreciation. Reader! may look for full report in our nex issue. Thanks, gentlemen. We don want to run the town. but we've got { sneaking notion into our head that il must be made safe for a mule to walk the length of Apache avenue day ol night. Westward the star of empire takes it's way, and we will say right here before we forget 1t, that if Charlie Thompson, bartender at the Gray Eagle Saloon, doesn't drop out of sight before Saturday he'll stand a prime show of 6 grave in the sand pit
 Lo, PooR FLY!-Our readers will beal witness that we refer to our contempor ary only at long intervals, and then il the kindest manner. On the contrary he devotes much of his space each week | to personal abuse of us. We have nc quarrel with this poor old fly. We pity | him. Whenever we see a man intended by nature to run side show of wax fig ures taking up journalism instead, oul heart goes out in sorrow. We realiz, how he must feel. It is like jackas rabbit trying to pass himself off as buffalo.
 This poor old fly sent us word tho other day to look out for ourself, as ht intended to shoot us on sight. We bor rowed a squirt-gun of a boy on tho street, and went over to the Lame Duck" office and stood in the door of the sanctum and spirited the poor old insec out of the window. He didn't even stor to argue the case, nor to throw paper weight. Then we counted his subscrip