The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1897-03-11

used to shake like an aspen lafe Whln
Id pass thin.
10 be coorse I'd loose little blood
an have few skilps on me hands; but
what's that whin yer trainin' for the
iffort OF yer loife, as me uncle i'd say.
Well, 10 and behold We, to cut a long
story short, me uncle had the docki-
ments all ready to challenge the win
ner O. the big fight that's comm off
soon. So one Saturday night we goes
down town to hunt up some good
hackers and av coorse we HAYES few
drinks with some friends an discussed
prize fghtin'.
The argifyin got so thunderous hot
1 knoo they re i'd be some trouble.
So thinks to meself, now have me
fishts all prepared to bust that Chinase
wall round COrbett's brains, an it
wont do to hit those common buffers
in the hate ov pashun. thin and there
took another drink, and seq to meself,
sez l, if there's goin' to be any fghtin'
done Ill just give thin one OF those
light inshoots. Fur, if 1 do say it me-
self, whin l fale like it kin give
man nice, tender blow that's as wake
as the smill of good butter.
Well me uncle kapes on hittin' thin
! with foine, big words like Corbett
throws at FitZsimmons whin one O.
thin has the outdacity to call me own
uncle an could Chaw"
Oh but that made me blood bile. l
looks at him, and thin sez to meself,
now, Cody, fur that butter blow, an 1
gives him a nate little inshoot with me
lift an an upper cut with the right
that drapped him as aisy as tin pin
in bowlin' alley.
But I had too much foOrce on, 1
couldn't fur the life O. me kape the
thoughts O. that Chinase wall out O.
me head. An the way that poor man
shook was terrible. / don't know where
me uncIe's heart was but mine was in
away.
But shure yes all know the rist O.
the story EXCEPT me trial, an that was
short enough. My Eyer he sez to me,
"Mr. MGooly, ye'd better plade
guilty an fall on tn mercy O. the Coort."
l wont, seq I. I've done enough fallin'
now to me sOrra.
So that afternoon they procade with
me trial. They puts the little igaries
on me wrists an takes me to Coort. In
walks the persecutin' attorney after
me with a stack O. books under his
arm as high as yer waist band. Thin
in comes my Eyer, lookin' like one of
thin little wooden judes they puts the
foine clothes on feminist the stores.
An what dyes think he has? Just
one little book Shtuck under his arm.
l calls him, an sez l, 60 out as fast as
you can an get more O. thin books
with the lither covers or it's all day
with me an the trial. He said it would
do no good. But, sez 1, do what yer
client tells ye or be jabers I'll up an
plade guilty. So up jumps and SEE,
yer honor, 1 plades guilty; it's no use to
attimpt with this little pamphlet my
Eyer has to bate all the larnin' that's
in that stack O. books there. Why,
there's lither enough in their cuvers to
make shoes for half dozen families.
They tried to make me behave the
books had nuthin to do with me; but
1 knows too much law fur that. Why
did 1 go to school fur six long months
in the Guild country, to be decaved by
by Eyer with only one book? No; so
1 shtuck where did to me plae; an
here I am to stay whole year for an
innicent blow that ye'd think wouldn't
hurt child.
The next man that'll talk to me
about prize fightin' or burstin Chinase
walls I'll have put in the body O. the
Jail. Pm just goin' to be sinsible an
larn to make shoes or Irvine so whin 1
goes out kin start little cobbler's
shop or big Irvine fact'ry an be gin
tleman.
WANTS no more whisky or prize
fightin. I'll be an alderman that's good
enough fur me.