The Olneyville times. (Olneyville [Providence, R.I.]) 1887-1917, 1907-02-01

You can't tell how far frog will
Jump by the size of his speckles,"
remarked Thompson, the cattle
buyer. And, what is more, you
never can tell what man will do till
you see him in action.
"My first winter away from home
] worked in slaughter-house near
Los Angeles. Foreman Prout, an old
friend OF my father, was strictly busi-
ness and a fierce worker; Schmidt,
the journeyman butcher, was friend
OF no man, himself least of all. There
were no feather-bed berths in the
establishment. We roustabouts. An
tone and l., had to step more than
lively.
"Antone had the hardest time of
It, chiefly because he was a Mexican.
Prout had an idea that only white
people, particularly Americans, had
the right to live, anyway. Schmidt
naturally didn't like Antoine because
he disliked every one, especially
roustabouts.
Just before Christmas rheuma-
tism, an old enemy of my family, tied
me hand and foot. ! was as helpless
as an infant, and to pass the time
away l got my landlord and his
brother to wheel me over to the
slaughter-house and put me on a
raised platform, where l could watch
the boys work.
There were extra orders for the
Christmas trade. The crew was
short-handed by one roustabout, and
not particularly cheerful
"Antone drove a whale OF a steer
into the chute. He was a tremendous
fellow and a tiger for fierceness.
Schmidt noosed him swiftly, and he
and Antoine hurried across the room
to their places at the windlass.
THE windlass rope passed through
a ring in the floor to the steers
horns. The system at that establish
ment was to draw the animals head
down to this ring, thus facilitating a
painless death-blow.
"Prout turned to unfasten the gate
that opened from the chute.
is that ring solid?' asked
Schmidt, with his usual ugly scowl.
Because IL IL amt
It's ten chances TO one the ring
pulls out!' snapped Prout, who was
sarcastic when very busy. 1t always
does
with a flourish OF horns and a
roar like lion the steer left the
chute. The windlass men swiftly
wound UP the slack, bracing them
selves in time to catch him as he
reached the end OF the rope.
The steer came UP with a jerk,
gave a tremendous founder, and
the ring pulled out. The punky wood
from the rotten joist flew to the cell
ing.
Down went the steer on the slip
perry floor; but he was up like fash,
and charged for Schmidt, giving him
very close call as he pulled himself
up on a cross-brace above the wind
lass.
The steer was king OF the place
now, and a more angry brute never
trod the floor OF a slaughter-house.
The treed butchers were in somewhat
OF rage themselves, as a half-hour
delay in the rush before Christmas,
when they were short-handed. too,
was serious matter.
"The steer stood for a moment
shaking his horns and rolling his eyes
at Schmidt and Antoine, and making
the slivers fly with his paving. Then
there came scamper of feet from
outside, and the door at the other
end OF the building few open.
Shut the door!' All four OF us
howled the words in tones of un-
righteous indignation.
Tommy, Prout's six-year-old boy.
shut the door-from the inside-and
scared and dazed, braoed himself
against it.
THE steer, attracted by the fash
OF light, wheeled, and all quivering
for the charge, searched the room for
something moving. Prout had
climbed the loft ladder, and without
stopping to descend, made a flying
leap for the boy, landing awkwardly
about ten feet from him.
Instantly the steer charged at
him. Prout did not, evidently could
not. get up; but above the clatter OF
hoofs and the whir OF the unwinding
windlass his voice rose cheerfully re-
assuring, Shut the door from the out
side. son. That's right! Good-byr
Schmidt, who feared nothing.
sprang for the windlass, but was
caught by the spinning iron crank
and hurled against the wall. He
dropped to the floor, a limp heap. By
this time the steer was halfway down
the long building, and Prout had