The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-02-09
WESTON WILL WALK AGAIN.
HE WILL TRAMP FROM NEW YORK
TO FRISCO AND BACK.


The Sort of Shoe to Walk In-An-
other story by barney AarOn-HOv
McCOOI and COburn Didn't Fight,
and How the OId-Time "GanE"
Robbed the Spectators.
New York. Feb. s.-NearIy one hundred
and fifty thousand people patronized the
recent bicycle show. at Madison Square
Garden. in New York. 1.-THE Bicycle craze"
is evidently but yet in it's infancy. The
steel steed is wonderfully popular, so
much so that its bids fair ere long to out
number, hundred to one, all other forms
of wheeled vehicle. One Of the dangers of
it's adoption is the back cap it is giving
pedestrianism. thought of this the other
week when read of the death of that
wonderful Indian runner, "Deerfoot."
who thirty years ago, with Jackson, 1.-THE
American Deer" 'Srhe North Star" and
other fancifully named pedestrians, start
led the civilized world with their remarka-
BILE feats. Deerfoot died at the age of six
ty-eight, almost the three score and ten"
of the Psalmist, and almost up to the day
of his death he enjoyed hale and vigorous
health.
There is no athletic exercise more con-
ducive to good health and longevity than
pedestrianism and there is no form of ex-
ercise that can be so readily and generally
practised. A great fault OF Americans, es-
pecially city bred Americans, is that they
don't walk enough.
One of the greatest OF living long-dis-
lance pedestrians is Weston" He is
65 years old; he has silver gray hair and
mustache, and still he is as hale and
| hearty as a buck. I met him the other
night and had very interesting chat
with him about "a little walk he pro-
poses to take this spring. Some time in
| April, as soon as the roads become fit. he
/ intends starting from New York and walk
| ing to San Francisco. After stay of
| a week or so in the Eldoradoan metropo-
| lis, he will retrace his steps to the En-
Isn't that quite a tramp for a man Of
your age?' asked.
ssWeil, yes" he responded, 'but
| haven't the slightest doubt of my ability
| to accomplish the task and be benefited
| by it. I intend to walk thirty-six miles
| a day on an average, except on Sun
| days and Mondays 1 shall rest each Sab
| bath, and on Mondays l intend to walk
| fifty miles. 1 shall lecture on the bene-
fits of my physical culture and especially
/ on the benefits of walking, wherever
practicable. The people need to be awak-
| ened to q realizing sense OF the lmPor-
| tance of using their legs more than they
| do. I don't want to be egotistic, but I
do think l am a living illustration OF the
| benefits Of living a temperate life and
taking good, brisk walks every day.
over thirty years ago Weston created
a furore in this country by walking from
| Portland, Me, to Chicago Every Gay
during the continuance of his tramp the
papers contained Geographic accounts or
| his progress, and there was WHO excite
| ment in all the towns and cities he pass
| ed through. 1t was this which caused
Daniel O'Leary of Chicago to become a
professional walker.
| destrian that ever lived. After he had
beaten all competitors in this country he
went to England, where he was especially
| successful 1t was to defeat him that Sir
| John Ashley invented the go-as-you-
| please style. A better name for it would
rage in this country and in England for
| several years. Charley RoWell gained
fame and money as its best exponent
BY the way, O'Leary once told me that
/ despite the fact that the English were
such great walkers, none of their Crispins
| knew how 20 make a first-class walking
| shoe Said he: "A properly made walk
| ing shoe should be of soft, pliable calf
skin leather, but It should have y medium Medium
| lace up in front, and it should fit snugly
| around the ankle, instep and heel. 1t
| should have room enough in front of the
| toes to spread a little in action, but it
| should not be loose enough to feel I'M
! pleasant. With such a shoe, properly fit
|
that he has foot
| Here is another of Barney Aaron's flstic
Zone of the SWEETEST mobs I ever saw
| at an old-time fight" said he, was the
one that went from Cincinnati to Cold
| Springs, Ind, thirty years ago, to see
Mike McCool and Joe Coburn fight for
| the championship. Coburn was a New
Yorker; Mccool e was from on St Louis. but
/ Louisville. He used to be a deck hand
| on the Mississippi river, and he was as
big and strong as young bull, and just
| as awkward. Coburn was the champion
| at the time. Barring Jim Mace, he was
| the cleverest fighter of his day, and what
ne dldn know aDout old-tlme ring trlcks
it wasn't worth losing any time picking
up. He and McCool had fought year
| or so before near Harpers Ferry, and
Coburn had won. The westerner wasn't
satisfied, though. He claimed that Co
| burn had his gang with him, which
was quite true, and that 1t had a lot to
| do with defeating him. That also was
| true in a measure. In this way, / mean.
! McCool was new to the ring, and his
| temper was easily aggravated. Coburn's
/ friends We're all about the ring, and they
! kept a-joshing and a-teasing McCool all
| the time. They distracted his attention
| by saying horrible things about him, and
| calling him vile names. Then he would
| look around to see who his tormentor
| was, and Coburn would nail him with all
! his might. In this way he got in many a
| blow that otherwise he never would have
| landed. Once he got Joe backed into a
| corner of the ring, and it looked as
| though Coburn was gone coon for sure.
| Just then one of the mob said something
| fearful about Mike. and he turned to iden-
| tify him. AS he did so Coburn let fly and
| caught him on the ear, knocking him
! down. Oh how the gang did yell with Joy.
| Well, to make long story short, Coburn
| trained for the second fight, over at La
| tonfa Springs, across the river in Ken
| lucky from Cincinnati; and a few weeks
| before the fight he got dose of malaria
/ that he couldn't shake off. He didn't say
| anything about IL except to me and a few
! intimate friends, thinking that he would
] finest saloon in the United States was the