The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-02-06
The Texans story.

| that had the qualities we've ben discuSsin'.
We've always had plenty with sand, but
/ not so many with sand and horse sense. too.
! His name was Spencer, and he run paper
| in one of our smaller towns somewhere
| long in the early eighties. One day the
\ worst man in the State-Halnigan was his
name-a desperate of the old-time style,
walked into Spencer's office and up to Spen-
GERS desk with a long-barreled forty-two,
| leveled straight at Spencer's head. Spen-
Ger never looked up from his work; just
went on writin' for dear life.
=" Look up, Spencer says Hannigan.
I've got you, and I'm goin' to kill you
when we've had a little talk. You've ben
maxim few unpleasant remarks about me
in your paper, and this is my day to settle
Spencer never looked up. I'm busy this
morning, Mr.. Hannigan,' says ne; couldn't
| you drop in this afternoon
Not by sight says the other begin
min to get loud. Look up and meet it like
| man.
| . This is very important work I'm on
says the editor. Would you have any OBJ
! lection to my tinishin' it before l go? I'll
| be at your disposal soon as it's through.
I'd take it as a favor if you'd let me do this
| last job in style
''Hannigan grumbled minute or two
| and swore some, but the end of it was he
consented, Spencer never stoppin' his writ
in for a second. Set down, Mr.. Hanni-
| gan, says he, set down and make yourself
| at home
"Hannigan looks around the office and
| don't see nothin' to set on but a beer keg,
so he sets down on that, keepin' a close
watch on the editor all the time. Spencer
kept on at his work. PITY soon the des-
| perado begins to get curious. I'd like to
know what in something you're so billy
crazy to write when you got to die in three
minutes, for that's all I'll give you,'
| says he
why answered Spencer, it's an obit-
uary.'
An obituary. The idea sort of tickled
Hannigan. and he begins to laugh
81 should say two obituaries goes
the editor, smflin' an never lookin' up. I'd
like to read the truck to you to see if it
amt satisfactory
Go ahead says Hannigan, laughin',
and when you're done I'll kill YOU He
was a man of his word, too.
1.-The editor begins to read: Our city will
be sorry to learn of the demIse' of one of
her most valued citizens and a favorite
son of the county. This morning at 1890
| 1--WE have the pain to announce) Willard F.
Spencer. editor of this sheet
'''Ha! ha! har laughs Hannigan. Your
own obituary.!
"'wait,' says Spencer, there's more
Then he goes on from his papers: Editor of
this sheet, departed this life at the hands
of little invention of his own
well, that's mighty white says Hanni-
gan.
wait a minute says the editor. He
/
not look upon his like again. We have the
| pleasure to announce-and we offer this
pleasing intelligence as a consolation to our
readers-that as he began his lofty flight
from these earthly shores he took along
with him that robust scoundrel whose con-
sumptive morals have long been a source
of uneasiness to the community at large.
| Need we say we refer to the late Pink
| Hannigan?'
Ha, ha, ha" laughs the desperate.
/ 'How's that?' ~
| Wait, says Spencer, IN comm to 1t.
This morning while at his work, Mr.. Spen-
| Ger was interrupted by the entrance of the
late Pink, who he had been expectin'-'
'Hannigan laughs harder than ever.
Expectin, goes on Spencer, beginning
| to read very fast, for some time, and for
whose benefit he had prepared little sur
prise in the way of coil of electric wire
| runnin from a button behind the editorial
desk to object in the room
POOH says Hannigan, laughin' like
! mad, Spencer goes on readin' faster and
faster.
This button, upon being pressed, re-
ceived an impulse, which, runnin along the
wire, finished UP in spark in the object
mentioned
| 81
| between laughs.
No. says Spencer; it's under the floor.
| ''This spark in the aforementioned object
was the cause of all the trouble he went
on readin', the said object havin ben
key of gunpowder upon which the late Mr..
Hannigan kindly allowed himself to be in
! duced to sit. When the also late Mr.. Spen-
| Ger pushed the button
Spencer read the last part from behind
the table, where he dropped like a shot.
| Hannigan's laugh twisted off into kind OF
! horrible yell and he tore out of there like
| stampede of wild bulls, shootin' the walls
! full of holes in sheer nervousness. Spencer
leaned out of the window and dropped the
| empty beer key on him as he came out of
| the doorway below Run, Pink, rum says
| he.
1.-The key broke Pink's collarbone And,
gentlemen" concluded the Texan, striking
a match to relight his extinguished cigar,
tits fact that he had Mysteries three
times before noon. And after that whenever
he had to pass the newspaper office he
would cross over to the other side of the
square. He seemed to hold it in a kind of
| horror, some way"
well, 1 expect So" commented the poll
tician. THAT editor was all right. What's
become of him.
Turned lawyer. Lvin' in Dallas last
heard of him and dom we'll. L reckon he
ought to-"
II don't quite make sure,'' said one of the
students, that football inculcates exactly
the same sort of nerve as that displayed in
! the two cases cited 1t strikes me that both
Mr.. Spencer ard Colonel Wilson excelled in
| bluffing.' Each possessed confidence and
courage, no doubt but they conquered by
| purely mental processes. Football is thought
to bring about more physical decisiveness
| of action, the ability TO strike without stop
ping for a conscious syllogism, an instinct
i've concentration of force, and the power to
smite an opponents weak spot suddenly"
Did you ever hear of Freddie Smiths
Bowery trip?' asked the young mans COM
panion.
No. replied his friend. What of it?"
story of the First undergraduates.
II think it comes in line as illustrating
! yorIr noint - 10 Dhvsfcal decisiyeness. /" the