The Pioche weekly record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1877-1900, 1890-09-06

| renLlnS Their mouths lot Lne honorable
purpose of bailing out the Raymond &
Ely stump.
Talking about mouths reminds me Of
a little adventure that experienced
lately. Eou see was mopng down the
street the other evening, when ! happen.
ed to run into one Of the tenors when he
was engaged in giving free representa-.
tion of the national game. Well sir, we
collided just as it reached out its hippers
to catch the ball, and when it
had the ball safely corralled, its
mouth opened. Oh ye gods and little
fishes! l never saw such an opening in a
white mans face before or since.
hav'nt got over the fright yet. thou ht
| was falling head foremost down the
iuba shaft. and in my terror made a
dive to save myself and was preoipitat.
ed through Boss Weber's window If
you doubt my veracity ask Boss, and he
will be after telling you that am his
debtor to the tune of five dollars for
damages inflicted on his premises. Says
to myself, old boy if you open your
mouth like that when performing a
simple function like catching base ball,
what must it look like when stretched to
its full capacity in the deliverance of a
musical abortion at midnight. Imagine
that the Meadow Valley Wash or the
river Shannon couldn't touch it with
forty foot pole. And then take into con.
sideration the voice that assure of that
description indicates. You will invari-
ably find that it contains conglomerate
sound composed of steamboat whistle,
fog horn and barro. The latter ingredi.
en- being the vehicle that floats the
other two. You can easily perceive how
two or three vocal phenomena of that
calibre can convert the beautiful calm of
the summer nights into chaotic cyclone
of discord.
But l am in hopes that will soon be
rescued from this tangled and sound
laden atmosphere, as a few of my politi.
cal friends are at present over in San
Pete soliciting an appointment for me in
the navy yard, and if their disinterested
efforts prove successful, / am saved.
If they fail, am doomed,
and the annals of Phoebe will
have the unique distinction of recording
the sad and untimely end of the last
O'Shaughnessy. And will make dy-
ing and imperative request that my re.
mains be escorted to their resting place
by the local string band, and all the
mouth organs that can be scared up for
the occasion, because | want them to
wind me up in good shape. And per.
haps after taking cool survey of their
CHASTITY deed, and when they have made
critical review of their revolving crime,
they may return home feeling satisfied
with their work and allow the surviving
inhabitants to remain undisturbed for
some time, and permit themselves to
lapse into state of inocuous deseutude.
assure you, MIR. Editor, that is the
chief and only motive that prompted me
to intrude my incoherencies on your sa.
cred columns. The wearing of mar.
tyr's crown has always been the ambi.
ton of Yours devotedly,
d. O, s.
P. S. l also make it one of my final
wishes that the following epitaph be in
scribed on my maidstone in letters of
green:
Blow slow, ye winds, when you APP
proach,
This sacred mound by sweet Phoebe,
just fold your wings awhile and keep
A virgil DER the needed sleep
OF the poor frame that here reposes,
And make its grave bed of roses.
For in life he tried his level best
To sleep, but failed. He needs ;
! rest.
COMMUNICATION.