Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-05-06
REAL HANDSPRING

"A man know introduced me to the
members of the Washington bah club the
other night" said an odd time, fanatic, land
1t took me- some time to get my fingers
ironed out straight after that assortment of
handshakes. They're a strong lot Of colts.
and there isn't any absence Of heartihess
In their way OF gripping your paw. The
power In their fingers reminded me OF an
Incident that once witnessed in connec-
ton with a bit of too-hearty Handwriting.
1t occurred In the cafe OF the Palace Hotel.
San Francisco, and Tom Sharkey, the pug.
was one of the central figures.
"A travelling man from the east met a
big gang of Manifested sports in the Palace
cafe on this night. He was introduced to
the dead-games by the clerk OF the hotel.
The drummer a small man, and the
first dead-game who took his mitt gave 1t a
squeeze and a shake If trying to cop
out a manicure set at a county fair tight
est-grip contest. The travelling man WINGED
and turned a bit pale under the pressure.
The sport tipped the thing along to the
rest of the bunch, and they all gave the
sirummer's paw a bone-crushing squeeze.
The drummer got paler and paler and
Inadder and madden as each of them took
his hand and tried to knead ii into a mea
cake, but he didn't explode until the last
man to whom he was introduced, noted
middle weight fighter, got vise-iike clasp
on his right duke and came near macerat-
Ing 1t to pulp Then the drummer snatched
his hand away. threw back his chest and
blurted out:
Say. this is too blamed much of a
good thing! I've got some use for this
hand yet awhile and the next forehead
that comes along and tries to break it off
has got to fight. and he's got to know how
to fight. I'll knock the block Off of him. 1
don't care If he's eleven feet high, and
you hear me a-talkingr
The SnOrtS LET q ho f,,p
wrath OF the dapper little travelling man,
In which he at length had to join. but he
repeated what he'd said. all the same. and
declared that he wanted to go on record
as to that point.
The very next mug that tries the bone
crusning game on me. he said again, t5
going to get one right in the nose, and
that's no airy persiflage, either
"One of the dead-games slipped out to
the rotunda of the Palace. where Tom
Sharkey was holding down leather chair.
Hey. there. Tom,' said the sport to the
pug, L want you to come into the bar to
meet a good fellow. He's one Of our kind
and ne wants to know you. And, say Tom,
give him the right kind of grip-he was
Just saying, while ago. that he always
Judges man by his handshake, and that
ne got no use for guy that pushes him
dinky, jellyfsh handshake.
On, OiH attind t thot, all roight,' said
the Dundalk pug who was a pretty raw
the cafe.
Mr.. Snowshovel, said the sport who
mad dug up Sharkey to the drummer, let
me make you acquainted with Monsieur de
Sheearkay, one of our best-known citizens
ana aldermen, and man
Glad t meet yeeZ,' said Sharkey hold
ing out his hand to the drummer
Same here, said the drummer who
dldnt know Sharkey from DIR. Parkhurst
Sharkey's red mitt-it's as big as a horse
coliar-folded around the drummer's white
slim paw. and the drummer rose to his toes
and gave gasp of pain.
Then. bif! and the drummer's free left
hand shot out catching the fighter right
square on the left eye.
Why We Protestant blaygard yeezp
yelped the enraged Sharkey. and he led off
with right and left for roughhouse 'Ye
nurtherin' runt. Oi'll tache yeez-"
The swings he aimed didn't land, or the
drummer would have had taps sounded
over him day or so later One of the
sports threw his arms around the pug from
behind. and another yanked the frenzied
little drummer out of harms way
After the tumultuous boot there were
explanations, and Sharkey and the drum
! mer got together all right, but without any
more Misunderstanding"