Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1892-10-11

DRAWN THROUGH THE PRINCIPAL STREETS.
paralyzed at the arrival of the machine. 1t
was drawn over from the railroad station
by eight horses, and no circumstance in
the history of the town ever created half
the excitement. Our esteemed old hyena
of contemporary was positively speech
less at the sight. He rubbed his eyes and
looked and looked again, and the only
sound he could utter was a groan of an
guish. The engine is named "THE KICKER"
and aside from being one of the handsom-
est affairs ever turned out is warranted to
be n regular Niagara falls for chawing up
water. 1t was run down to the creek, the
brakes manned by our enthusiastic fellow
citizens, and as a stream of hmpid water
described q graceful curve through the air
and descended upon the roof of the Red
Star saloon a cheer of pride arose from a
thousand threats. If anything was want
ing to convince our esteemed contemporary
that we are solid in this community he can
no longer doubt. If there has been any
question in our own mind that we would
be nominated for the next legislature this
dispels it. After the squirting exhibition
we were placed on the engine and drawn
through the principal streets of the town
in triumph, and the songs and shouts of
the populace must have struck the soul of
our contemporary like fall of 90 dogs on
July day.
l. l.
we were called up by telephone from Gao
tus Corners by our valued friend, Major
Scovill, who stated that they had just hung
a man who claimed to be a canvasser for
THE KICKER and wanted to know if they
had erred in Judgment. We promptly re-
piled that they had not. This paper en-
ployS no canvaSSerS. Whenever a person
strikes community and claims to be au-
thoriZed by us the correct thing is to dis
pose of him first, and then telephone or
telegraph us that he is no more. The major
and those who lent him their cheerful and
enthusiastic assistance have our warmest
thanks for the zeal manifested on our be-
half. We shall not forget it.
GONE HENCE.-Monday afternoon we re-
ceived word that James Stowell, of the
Bald Eagle saloon, had been found dead in
his bed, and on fastening to the scene we
discovered the report to be true. While
the coroner's jury returned verdict of
general collapse of the system we think we
know the true cause of his sudden taking
off. James was an ambitious man. He
didn't want to be postmaster, state sena-
tor, poet or statesman, but he did want
to invent new and thrilling cocktail
which should be thoroughly identified with
Arizona. In fact, he wanted to shine in
the cocktail line as brightly as we do in
the journalistic. The compound he was
after was to be known the world over as
the Arizona cocktail, and TO be well
worthy of this great and glorious COM
monwealth. To our own knowledge the
deceased has been experimenting for the
last year with whisky, brandy, cognac,
champagne, cider, beer, wines, quinine,
morphine andtvarious acids and drugs. On
several occasions he has almost hit it. His
own taste was to be the test, and we think
the collapse was brought about by the
action of SO many decoctions on his system.
Either that or he finally struck something
that tickled him to death. He was not an
angel, but he was enterprising and full of
desire to help bring Arizona to the front,
and it is needless to add that we We're one
of the pallbearers at his funeral Wednes-
day afternoon