The Portland daily press., 1891-06-08
the ARIZONA KICKER.
Some of the Wild Ways OF Co
Ahead journalism.
New York World l

Last December, when.we had completed
the repairs to the picket fence surrounding
our private graveyard and counted up the
graves, we announced our earnest hope
that-the number would never exceed.nine.
We never really wanted to kill anyone of
the batch, much preferring.to live,atspeace
with all mankind, but it was case of
"shootfirst or go under'' in each and every
instance, and it became our duty to shoot.
Everybody knows we have done the
square thing when compelled to outfit q
man for the far off country. We have
bought'coffin furnished shrouds, got up
funeral professions and planted the immi-
grant on our own private lot, where his
headboard would not be taken blythe cow
boys for aeucher table nor his bones become
the prey of the coyotes. 1t is needless to
addthat we shall continue to pursue this
liberal policy in the future, whilelthe sub
scription price of the Kicker will still re-
main at two dollars per year.
As stated at the beginning, we hoped to
keep the number down to nine, but cir
cumstances over which we had no control
erected tenth headboard the other day.
In writing up Colonel Woodhouse's new
ranch two weeks ago we jocularly referred
to cowboy as "Cockeyed Bill" 1t seems
that his proper title is 'Squinteyed Will
iam," and he took offense at our license.
We have invariably noticed that when we
attempt anything jocular somebody dies
before the month expires, and we shall now
swear off.
Bright and early Monday morning the
gentleman with the imperfect optics opened
the front door of our Office with a great
deal of useless energy, and before we could
cyiu x.ofa half
ad. he began banging away at us. We
knew, from the way his first bullet chawed
its way through the straw hat we wear in
the Office that he meant business, and we
didn't allow any vision of the dear old
home back in New England, with mother
standing in the door, stop us from getting
ready to return his courtesies.
william shot the hands off our Office
clock, split the ear of the Chinaman who
turns the crank of our power press and
blasted the peaceful life of a yaller cat
which we paid five dollars for in Tucson; but
when. the cannonade had ceased William
had gone down the long, dark trail to Join
his forefathers. Wewere, of course, prompt
ly acquitted before the coroner's jury, and
we think we did the square thing when we
got thirteen vehicles out to Williams fu-
neral.
All our readers will bear witness to the
fact that we have exercised the greatest
patience in bearing the slurs and taunts of
our esteemed weekly contemporary. On
three different occasions we would have
been perfectly justified in killing him, but
we restrained our hand because we knew
he owed his two compositors money which
they would lose if he went under ground.
We long ago decided to pay no further at
tention to him, no matter what he said;
but there was an item in his last issue
which calls for word or two of explana-
tion from us.
Our lop cared, lop shouldered, knock
kneed, slab sided, ramshackle, bald headed,
poverty stricken, cross eyed, web footed,
toothless old contemporary, with an aver
age circulation of Or copies weekly against
our tens of thousands (see our sworn state
mentsl, says that we were cowhided in our
own sanctum three days ago by lady
named Miss Green, who is music teacher
lately arrived from Indiana.
His statement is an insult to a young,
beautiful and accomplished lady, who was
at once accorded the ontray of the best
society in the town, and who came here
with letters of the highest recommenda-
tion from respectable people.
Mrs. Green called at The Kicker office in
the most amiable mood and with the most
peaceful intentions. She simply and sweet
ly desired us to publish one of her original
poems, entitled when the Hens Egg Nests
Again." and we were thrice glad to do so.
1t appears on our third page today, and we
feel that we cannot say too much in praise
of it.
Thus do we confound, paralyze, upset,
break in two and knock out the human
hyena whose spiteful soul would blacken
our private character before this commun-
ity, and with it the fair reputation of an
angel in female clothes. Words fail to ex-
press our contempt for this inhuman
monster, but no advance will be made in
our advertising rates