River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1902-11-06
MISTAKE OF
MURPHY'S DOG
The Pochuck Mans Story of the
Drowned Lands Tork1e.

from over toward POchuck, arrived the
other day at the Rowland house
charged with even larger load of con-
fidence in himself than usual, and there
was perceptible self-reproach in his
manner as he remarked to Badly, the
landlord:
81 ought to have been here before
with this news from Pochuck, / know,
cause it's somethin' amazin', but I've
had to git here between rains, and
that's made times for travelin' ding
swizzled short and few for quite spell
back, as you mowt a noticed. You
been expectin' me, o. course?"
Badly, the landlord, said no, it wasn't
quite as bad as that.
5 Good! Then l hain't been disap-
pintin' yOu!" said the man Of the al
legged Pochuck domicile, sitting down
with a cheerful smile. THAT lifts load
off o. my mind bigger'n the price o
coal! 1 hain't never Disappointed no
body VT, and it'd Jest hook me in with
sorrow to begin a-doin' of it now. And
some o. the news from Pochuck that
I'm stuffed with this trip is that all
the signs says that the weather's goin'
to settle, and we're goin' to have an
open winter.
Jest mark that down on your slate,
along with the rulin' fgger for about
five fingers o Jersey ginger till come
in ag'in, SOS you won't fergit it,"
AN open winter! And five fingers
of the Jersey ginger. FiveIl be plen-
ty. The weather's goin' to settle, and
we're goin' to have an open winter"
Badly, the landlord, said he'd stand
for the open winter, all right, and he
was glad the weather was going to
settle. But he said he didn't believe
the weather would go so far as to set
tie for the five fingers Of Jersey. That
would be cash, he said.
The Pochuck citizen shook his head
ard said something about the people
being aII wrong in charging the trusts
with putting the neceSsaries of life be-
yond their reach, when anybody with
half an eye ought to see that it was
the spread of the No Trust sentiment
that was dom Of it; then he cracked
the middle finger of his left hand and
the thumb on his right and said:
Eyes, sir; an open winter. That's
good news, o. course. And there's more
news than that. Murphy's bulldog
made the mistake of his life, and the
amazin' Drownded Lands snappin'
torkle is dead Deader'n marble slabs,
and it's a hard blow to Aunt Sally
BeckendarteT.
Uncle David is takin' on considerable
about it, too, and Murphy is madder'n
wildcats. Murphy's bulldog had grit,
all right, though, but he ought "a
knowed that amazin' Drownded Lands
snappin' torkle better.
Yes, yes. I've got quite a wad o.
news this trip. Quite n wad. But the
dyin' o. that amazin' snappin' torkle
sort o. bows me down. Spot cash, you
think, is the best you could do as to
little fye-fngers deal in Jersey gin
ger?"
Badly, the landlord, said he thought
it was. The Pochuck citizen cracked
his other thumb, and said:
Eve don't know exactly jest how old
that snappin' torkle was, but the fig
gers he carried on his undershell, cut
good and deep, was 1901, B. c. but he
must IA been a good deal older than
that yet, because"
Hold on!" exclaimed Badly the
landlord, rising quickly to his feet and
lifting up his hands, while Terry, the
Scotch-Irish terrier, stood ready to
take a hand in if the proceedings be-
came strenuous. Amy snappin' turtle
with a pedigree datin' bacl1to 1901, b.
c., is plenty old enough. If you've got
one older than that you must go some
where else to talk about him!"
jest what Sam Bailey thunk, by
cats!" exclaimed the Pochuck news
carrier, slapping his knee. jest what
Sam thunll when he came onto that
tOrkle as it was pullin' turnips in his
patch, in the fall o. 1926, and turned
him over and read them figgers!''
"'Great Gabriel's Trumpet saws
Sam. Here's the father of all snappin'
torllles, by gimhlets! "1SO1, b. CT"
Father of all snappin' torkles, by GIN
blets! And his father andlmother was
with Noar in the ark, I'll bet farm
says Sam.
jest what Sam Bailey rhunk. by
cats And Sam spread the news along
the Drownded Lands like wildfire, so
that folks went pikin' to Sans turnip
patch to see a torkle that mebbe old
Nimrod himself had laid low for and
couldn't git.
THE tOrllle had pulled and eat two
bushels o turnips and was on his way
back to the water, and when old Sol
Terpy see him, he says:
why he says, that's Ben's
Bolivar That's the torkle Ben Car
penter ketched on a set line in the
spring o 1901, and cut the year and his
initials on to the torkIe's shell and let
him go ag'in. 1901, B. c. Yes, sir!
That's Ben's Bolivar, sure as pigs a.
rootin'!' says Sol, and Sam Bailey was
the disappintedest man that ever
titled the soil in Pochuck's sweet vale.
Yes, sir! Jest what Sam Bailey thunk,
by cats!"
Badly the landlord sat down and
glared at the seventeenth century
Claudius Smith musket hanging SUI
pinely on its pegs over the door. Terry.
the Scotch-Irish terrier. hurriedi out
TO inquire of Ike Edwards bull pup
what business he had nosing around
there. Farmer Bill Leonard, who lives
opposite Goose Pond Mountain, turned
to Farmer Green, of Jolly Farm, and
remarked that if eggs didn't go up
pretty soon you might as well keep
guinea pigs as chickens, and Farmer
Green said yes, and a ding sight better