The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, 1893-02-03
THE RATS OWN FAULT
If ne: HAD KEPT HIS HEAD he
WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN KILLED.

The Pretty Girl Would Nat Have Been
Frightened, Georges Trousers would
Still BE Available, and the Small BOY
Would Have Missed Lots of Fun.
The boy sat on the big box. kicking his
heels against the sides. He was a short,
stumpy boy. with an abundance Of
freckles held over from summer. The
box was an ordinary packing box. 1t
stood IN the sidewalk in front of the
Walton building in Franklin street, near
where the Sixth avenue elevated road
crosses. Underneath the box a long,
lean, gray bewhiskered rat had taken up
temporary quarters.
The rat was in bad luck. In the first
place a sneaky looking dog, droopy as to
tail, a mongrel of the kind termed 'yal-
Ter" was lounging about, nosing in the
gutter and yearning for an opportunity
to display the d%eviltry common to his
kind. Behind the rats refuge in a door
way a pretty young woman was talking
to a much infatuated George" An ED
erly and important looking parsonage,
wearing gold mounted eyeglasses and
carrying a gold headed cane had just
made an imposing descent from the ele-
waited station and was promenading lei
surely toward the box. A cart horse at
tached to a truck stood in front of a s&-
loon heal by waiting for the driver to
come out. All was calm and peaceful.
Then the rat came on the scene.
The first to see him was the boy. He
jumped off the box. and the rat started
out toward the station with the boy in
hot chase. This aroused the dog, who,
with a howl of anticipated sport, joined
in the pursuit. The fugitive made
straight for the elderly parsonage. The
boy was a fairly good second and the
dog a close third. The parsonage, be-
coming aware that something was COM
ing his way, glanced over the top of the
gold mounted eyeglasses.
Hi. therer' yelled the boy. Hes
comm your way. Head i'm off. Swath-
err i'm one with tn stick"
The old gentleman ''swathered." He
missed the rat and hit the boy on the
shins. The boy gave a shrill whoop, lay
down on the walk and wept.
Did it hurt you?" inquired the owner
of the cane. .
That made the boy so angry that he
stopped crying.
did it hurt me?" he howled in right
eous wrath. Did it hurt me? You oil
gold headed snooper. How'd you like it
eff | dubbed yer bloomin oil shins with a
Vaughn spoke? What'd you say eff a fat
headed cove Hi! Here he ome back!
Grab i'm! Turn i'm back! Hit i'm
when he goes by!"
The rat had doubled on his track and
was flying up the street again with the
dog several PAGES behind. In between
the feet of the parsonage lodged the rat.
The dog essayed to follow by the same
route and got tangled up with the feet.
Down came the parsonage, his gold
headed cane flying in one direction and
his gold trimmed spectacles in another.
Then and there he offered a few remarks
that wrung from the boy an admiring
tribute. Gosh" said he. you can cuss.'
In the meantime the rat was on his
way up the street, and the pretty young
woman who with her George" had
emerged from the doorway, was walking
down the street engaged in conversation.
'FYes, he was just as nice about it as
he could be; said it wasn't any trouble
at all. He said Oh! O-w-w-w-w!
GEORGE. E-e-e-e-e-e-e! It's a rat! Help.
It's coming this way. E-e-e-e-e-e! Help
me up on this box. Yes, I'm all right
now. but Oh, George, do you suppose
he can climb up here? E-e-e-e-e-e! Don't
let him climb up here or | shall odd
diel"
George let out a terrific kick that
landed in the stomach of the pursuing
dog. By way of retaliation the dog
took off part of N leg from Georges
trousers. and fled across the street howl
ing dismally until it came to the cart
horse. Apparently connecting that ami
NAL with his misfortunes, the dog nib
bled at its hind leg. The horse snorted
and raj down the street with the truck
Gathering after. The rat, instead of tax
ing this chance of escape, rushed fran
tically across the street and back again,
with the boy. who had come up. followed
by the parsonage, hot on the trail. The
pCASoIldSO was iOSd1NLuS "AGh ohuAo
! guised admiration the pretty girl, who,
with garments gathered and held up
lightly in one hand, was standing OF
tiptoe on the box viewing the chase.
George was looking at his trousers.
The owner of the truck came out Of
the saloon in time to see his property
rafting down the street. As he started
after it, leaving a trail of profanity be-
hind him, a gaunt cat sauntered out of
the saloon. Before the teamster had
caught his horse the cat had pounced on
the rat and put an end to him. Then the
dog avenged his woes by catching her
by the back of the neck and shaking the
life out of her. The boy hit the dog
with a brick on general principles. Then
he returned to the parsonage, the box,
George. and the pretty young woman.
The latter was saying: s
'Oh, lear! l was so scared. | hope
/ Oh, George, did l hold my dress Up
so very high? Please say | didn't! That
horrid old man with the eyeglasses!"