Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1901-02-21
MYSTERIOUS CHICKEN THIEF
Mysterious Tale of a Night Struggle,
a Dead Possum and the Appetiz-
ing Odor of a Stew.

MI. JOnn w. NOBLE, OF bloomfield. N.
j., ably assisted by four women of his
family and heartily applauded by inter
ested Deighbors, anne out victor in a
joust with a possum which took place
in his hencoop the other night.
One morning several weeks 2 Mr..
Noble, who is something of a poultry
f~ancier, lost two of his birds. The col
ored population of Bloomfield are hon.
est. church-going people, and Mr.. Noble
merely shrugged his shoulders and re-
marked, philosophical.y: "Chickens
come home to roost." But they didn't.
What's more, a few days later a pet
bantam took mysterious leave of the
formerly happy hencoop. This time
Mr.. Noble merely scratched his head
and made a silent resolution to catch
the persistent thief, black or white.
quick or dead.
For a time the hencoop remained un-
molested, and Mr.. Noble began to think
the incident was closed. But the other
night things happened. His ten-year-
old son had gone to bed, and he and the
three women members of his family
were sitting in the parlor discussing
MuSIG anu olHCI GuIuSS. ouOOSHIy MI.
Noble sat bolt upright and motioned
for silence. A long, ripping caekling
sound came from the back yard; then
a few angry clucks, and finally a chorus
of piercing shrieks that sounded like a
whole poultry show in angry protest.
Mr.. Noble sprang from his chair and
Garted for the cellar door. A moment
later he appeared with a furnace poker
in his right hand.
Light" he said. with an air of grim
determination. THE chicken thief is
here. Bring lights" The women
glided from the DOB and appeared a
moment later bearing kerosene lamps.
Then, led by Mr.. Noble, poker in hand
they passed through the kitchen door
out into the moonlight night and across
the yard to the hencoop. The screech.
ing had not abated.
Mr.. Noble cautiously opened the hen
house door and poked his head in.
"Wow!" sceamed one of the light
brigade as she caught sight of the in
side of the coop. Kill himi Kill the
horrid thing" The birds were screech-
ing and flying in all directions trying
to escape a large and lively poSsum
which seemed to be in full possession
The four of the light brigade became
demoralized and beat a hasty retreat
But Mr.. Noble. angered by the sight OF
the chicken thief, struck madly with
his poker. The possum showed fight
A second blow from the poker, how
ever. made him change his tactics an6
he darted put the door and mad direct
for the light brigade This ELECTED
more screams and the cries of Hep
and "PoHce" brought the neighboTs
running to their windows. For fully
Is minutes the possum kept things
lively, but Mr.. Noble. encouraged by
cheers from the windows, met his foe
at every turn. At last the end came
and the possum. with a few contenp
tuous shifts in the direction of the
light brigade, rolled over on his back
with all four feet pointing the SAME
way. But his fight had not beer al
in vain. for when the battle-ground
was gone over two fine bantams were
found ~lifeless on the ground.
Next day the possum was placed OF
exhibition in the front yard. and those
who viewed it said it was a buster.
Why" remarked Mr.. Abe johnson
one of BIoomfield's co-ored citizens, Il
his friend Bill Perry next day, Jeff dat
possum weighs an ounce he weighs q
poun's-"
"Umph," said Berry. "doan talk Ike
dat to me. niggah. No possum ebel
weighed 20 poun's. Yo' know wot hap
pened to dat liah An'nias in de good
book? How de angels rose up in al
dere wraf an smote him down. an gath.
cred up de fragments, seben baskets
full? Well, doan' tell me dat possum
weighed 90 poun's."
Later in the day, however, when Mr.
Berry saw the possum for himself, he
changed his mind.
81 beg yoah pahdon, Johnson, l beg
yoah pahdon. II dat possum doan
weigh 20 poun's, I reckon he comes SC
powahfuI close dat you doan' get
smote."
Mr.. Noble was so impressed by the
admiration of the negroes that he gave
them the prize. And hat night as the
reporter was passing a little white cot
tage on his way to the station he heard
the familiar strains of
"Carve dat possum,
Carve dat possum, hullun
Carve dat posSum.
Carve him to de heart"
And, perhaps it was only magma
ton, but there seemed to be just the
faintest odor of possum stew.