The herald., 1898-02-19
STORY OF Mr.. PERKINS
TOLD By JOSEPH MURPHY Oh
aKERRY cow"
A Romantic "Reminiscences Of the
Early Days in the State
Of California

Joseph Murphy, the famous Irish comedi-
an, may with eminent propriety be classed
with the pioneers. In conversation with
the Detroit Free Press. Mr.. Murphy gave
some interesting "reminiscences of his early
time.
'It was forty-six years ago-in 1852" he
said, that I emigrated from New York
to California. arrived there a mere youth.
without resources, and in a deplorable
plight. I had expected to meet a brother,
but he had gone to the Sandwich islands,
leaving me nothing more substantial than
a letter of good counsel. But youthis not
given to despair, and started in to hustle.
The first opening 1 found was as waiter in
an eating house much patronized by min
ers. / was soon rafting dishes at lively
gait, and when the proprietor of hotel in
Oroville, then great mining camp, came
to Frisco looking for help he took a fancy
to me and offered me job. saw prospects
and accepted The next day left with
my new employer. a Mr.. Lawler, for the
camp. My baggage was packed in a snare
drum. which l suspended from my neck.
All had. besides a change of clothing, was
a set of bones. my best friend. When
broke 1 earned many a dollar with those
bones. for. to tell the simple truth /
could handle them surprisingly well.
"Oroville was a rough place, but / was
two young men who lived in our hotel
and whose wants in the dining room l
attended to. One of them was named Per-
kins. He was a lively bright young fell
low, who clerked in a grocery. The other
was named Gore. had not been there long
when summer came around. and with 1t
the ever-glorious Fourth of July. Patriot
ism was strong in our far-away camp, and
the men decided to celebrate by raising a
liberty pole. A committee was appointed
to go into the woods and cut nice, straight
pine and trim 1t. Another committee dug
the hole, and the women bestirred them
selves to get materials for the flag. Bunt-
ing. of course, was out of the question, and
the makeup of that Old Glory was some
thing wonderful. l was assigned to the
work of patterning the stars and the gen.
eral job of making the flag.
"At last the Fourth dawned. The pole
long and white, lay on the square, with
neat hole for the halyards, and ropes made
ready for hoisting 1t into place. Owing to
some neglect, it became necessary for some
one to go aloft after the pole was in posi-
tion, and set the flag. I. being the young
est and most active man in the camp, was
chosen. I tried but couldn't get ten feet
from the ground. Then I remembered that
my friend Perkins had been a sailor and
offered to get him. The miners promised
me $50 If I would do so and $50 more II he
accomplished the undertaking. He came,
and, donning suit of overalls, soaped the
inside of the legs and sleeves and then
rubbed sand on the soaped places. This
formed a kind of resinous 'sticker,' and
Perkins Skinned up that liberty pole like
a monkey, to an accompaniment of all
kinds of shouts and yells and cheers. Then
the crowd clamored for music. 1 got out
my bones fiddler and an accordion play
er Joined me, and there in the open air
we gave them Yankee Doodle and other
stirring selections.
THAT was the entering wedge of my
career as an entertainer. A few days
later gambling room proprietor made our
trio an offer to play in his place evenings.
Competition soon raised our salaries to
$3.50 per night and we were on the road to
high fortune. By and by returned to San
Francisco and obtained an engagement
with the Backus & Burbank minstrels.
played the bones, sang Irish songs in black
face, did negro dialect turn, and took my
stint at end work. There were some fam
Gus old minstrel men in that company, but
they are all gone now-not one of them is
living.
my first incursion into the field of Irish
comedy was undertaken at the suggestion
of poor old Billy Chapman, the actor. He
was broke in Frisco, and a benefit for
him was planned. 1 had a part in a COM
edy called Irish Assurance and Yankee
Modesty.' Chapman coached me, and I
paralyzed myself by making bit hit. A
newspaper man who had been instrumental
in getting me to go on for the benefit ad-
vised me never to play in black-face again.
In 1857 l secured a one-act piece called
Born to Good Luck, and went starring
Good luck attended the venture and has
kept on my track from that day to this
Twenty-Five years ago 1 sketched out the
plot, scenes and situations of Kerry Cow.
and Fred Marston crystallized them into
the play you know by that name. 1 have
played 1t without interruption twenty-four
years. Two years later 1 secured Shaun
Rhue,' which have been playing this week
at the Lyceum.
Sixteen years after left Oroville went
back to San Francisco on a visit. 1t was
warm, and went to Lake Tahoe to fish and
loaf. While there one day Alexander Bad
lam, city assessor of San Francisco, and a
friend of his surprised me, and invited
them to go fishing. Badlam's friend was
the governor of California. He kept look
ing at me rather sharply, and at last init
mated that he thought he had seen me
before. My name seemed to suggest no one
in particular, until he began to dig into the
past and told me of a youngster of my
name he had known in Oroville. I let
him prattle along until he came to that
memorable Fourth of July pole-raising.
Then / broke in and finished the story for
him. The governor of California was that
grocer's boy, Perkins, who had
Skinned up that pole and gave to the breeze
the first American flag that ever floated
in C-oville. His old friend Gore is the
Gore of the famous Chicago firm of Chap
in & Gore"