Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-11-08
Tells How Bob Ingersoll
7 racked Him in a
Quiet Way--Dr. Tai
mage Kidded Him a
Little, Too.
Special Correspondence Of The Star.


NEW YORK, November Z. 1908.
Mr.. James ]. Corbett, the actor man
and mon-ol-ogist (accent on that "ol,
please. staked the chronicler hereof the
other night to some "reminiscences Of
real kazuzza folks he met up with when
he was just Pompadour Jim. the Pug.
Il only cut the trail of the late Col.
Robert G. Ingersoll once. and I got
numbed good and hard that one time"
he said. This was in 1892, not long
after I'd been matched to meet John l..
l was in Chicago, staying at the old
Grand Pacific Hotel. Col. Ingersoll, on
his way to Montana to take part in
the big Davis will case, happened to
drop into the same hotel. l had sort
of wanted to meet Ingersoll. for l look
ed upon him as pretty nifty individual:
do yet, for that matter, though he sure
gave me a singing.
There was a freak ball game. in Chi
cagO during my stay there that time. 1t
was for charity-a game between the
S1nbad' extravaganza company and the
'Soudan' meodrama outfit, both outfits
then being in the middle of long Chi
cago runs. They roped me into pitch
ing FOR the 'Soudan' bunch. / came near
manning for life a lot Of members of
the Sinbad' company. and it was only
miracle that any of them ducked my
wild losses. Col. Ingersoll had been
taken out to see the game by Paul
Gore; the manager of the Grand Pacific
Hotel
Col. Ingersoll Butts In.
After dinner that evening I was lean
ing on the Grand Pacific counter chat
ting with Paul Gore when Col. 1ngersoll
swung along.
Colonel said Gore introducing me.
this young fellow here is that Corbett
lad that's been matched to go up against
the great John L. You saw him heave
the ball over the top of the stand q few
times at that funny ball game this after
noon
"A slow, quizzical smile crept over Col
Ingersolls rosy, chubby face. and he
sized me up shrewdly out of his big blue
eyes as he staked ME to healthy grip.
oh, yes. the coming baboon-l re-
member said Col. Ingersoll in the pleas
ATTEST way imaginable and going right
ahead shaking my hand. The things ne
got out of his system. somehow or anoth-
er. didn't sound bit raw at the time
he was saying them. and l didn't feel
like I'd been stung until later when l
fell to coming his remarks over. Err
young man. he went on, was there ever
a prize fight in which both OF the slug
gers killed each other in the ring!
fights of that kind.
TOO bad too bad said he. still cycling
me pleasantly. Too bad that all prize
fights don't result that way. Do you ex-
pect to thrash Sullivan
II replied that l was going to make
hard stab at it.
Stab at it, replied Col. 1ngersoll
picking up my words. 'Um--that's the
way 1t ought to be. Prize fighters ought
to be armed with bowie knives when they
meet in the ring. That would be the cor
rect thing for the quick defamation of the
prize fighting species. Gnarled war clubs
wouldn't be SO bad for the purpose,
either. Then prize fighting would be plain
out-and-out savagery. and therefore pos
sess certain primitive merit, instead of
being thinly yelled. hideous baboonish-
ness, existing in a period of comparative
civilization, as it is.
Kind O. deep for me. all that. At the
moment wasn't up to 1t exactly whether
it was all meant for knock or boost,
particularly as the colonel himself fairly
beamed upon me while he exuded those
things. He went away presently with a
kindly nod. Mr.. Gore grinned.
Only wanted to hear what the old
boy would say. that's ALL said Gore. You
needn't take it to heart. Col Ingersoll's
been dead ag'in prize fighting all his life
it's his pet aversion. When he comes to
Chicago and the hotel reporters can't get
him to talk about politics or agnosticism
or anything like that. they start some