The Birmingham age-herald., 1909-06-20
THE HOTEL CLERK
 ON THE MANLY ART
BY IRWIN 8. COBB.
<<T SEE by the paper they're 'fraid |
 Jim Jeffries ain't goin' to be able


 <<T SEE by the paper they're 'fraid
 Jim Jeffries aint goin to be able
 4 to get down to weight for his fight with the Big Smoky" lamented the House Detective of the St. Reckless. Tt sure is too bad'
 "It is indeed" agreed the Hotel Clerk "Its a terrible thing that the momen- tous issue of race supremacy in this fair land should be dependent on the cham pion of the Caucasion or white bunch nav ing figure like a family group with the twins sitting in front in their perain- bulator I saw Jeff when he was here in vaudeville last month. When he first came on it looked from the back of the house as if he was carrying one of those roll-top file cabinets in his arms. A nearsighted man sitting next to me thought Jeff was going to do piano. logue, and was bringing the instrument out of the wings himself. It certainly was a most distressing sight, Larry It almost brought the tears unbidden to my eyes when I thought to myself that this here stout matinee idol with the baby grand development and the centerboard tummy was the same stalwart young giant from the glittering sands of the golden west, that once moved majestic swath across this country from west to east and back again from east to west, | leaving in his wake, all neatly laid by and corded up, many aspiring young men such | as Jack Monroe. who didn't quit hearing the roaring of pleasant waters going over l O1d mil daD daVq When you met up. somewhere on your travels. with young midcontinental fav- orite with most of his features shifted l around to make more room for his nose, and only a recent site where his front 1 teeth used to be and an air about him 1 of having met with a great crushing 1 shock which had left him more or less numbed in the head, you knew you were crossing the trail of James J. Jeffrtes, 1 Esq, defender of the title and holder of l the belt, as he journeyed along through pastoral scenes and peaceful wales, meet 1 ing all corners and disoouraging most l of them from coming any further. And now, by heaven, to see him leaning up against the scenery of a two-a-day house with figure like his own Pacific slope, only more sloped. was enough to make angels weep.
 "No. Larry, speaking as one who would 1 like to see victory perching on our own perch, exclusively, I say to you I'm sorely afraid Jeff will never get down to weight again, unless they use an adz on him. l I don't think a plain drawknife would 1 do@twould take too long. And even if i he ever did reach the point where he could weigh in at o'clock on the aft ernoon of the fight at 2S4 pounds or what 1 ever weight he fought at, when he was l doing so, there d still be the financial end 1 oF ;t nd UO11ld take | l should say, anywhere from 12 to IA years. | By the time all the papers were signed 1 and the purse properly split, and the gate l receipts arranged for, and the picture privileges disposed of, Jeff would be ready | to enter the ring in a rolling chair ac- 1 oompanied by delegation of his fellow inmates from the California State Home 1 for Aged and Decayed Gents, while his l present challenger wouldn't need any makeup on to give correct imitation l of Old Black Joe at the age of S2. 1 "It wasn't like this in the middle ages, when I was boy. In that medieval pe- riod old John L. was going around pack 1 ing an abrupt sleeping portion in each l hand It wouldn't have been necessary 1 for him to take off weight to meet a col | ored person of the name of Johnson. If he felt like taking off any weight he'd l take 1t off of Johnson. He'd catch this l Johnson party some pleasant evening In the middle of a 24-foot ring, with none l of his friends at his side and the police barred out, and in five minutes that ring would look like somebody'd been put 1 ting in a ton of soft coal. Those who met his late Afro-American opponent on his coming out of the hospital would be able to notice the sad ravages at a glance.
 1 "They were noble old Romans in those days, Larry. Turks by nationality mostly, ~aa Thro' Tarrier Halls off by heart, but old Romans by breeding and disposition. For l an ambitious but reckless lightweight to sirk his map within reach of MT. Kid Lavigne amounted practically to the same thing as climbing up on the operating ta- ble. putting the nose under the chloro- form funnel and inhaling deeply. No mat ter how Camembert burlesque comedian was he could be sure of friendly hand by coming down to the footlights at the finish of his turn and saying But aft CT all, gents, there never wuz but one of 'em ekil to old Nonparalled Jack Demp- l sv.' Loud cheers And sturdy Tom Shar- kev was there with his full-rigged chest and his burglar-proof jaw and the umlaut | over the eye. And honest Peter Maher with the family entrance. side-door ear | and the subway nose. And stalwart Jake Kilrain with the blueprint face and the l tme-exposure mind. A hardy bunch Of l plasterers and fathers, all of them, Larry; | take it from me, they were. There was l many a coming champion that those fel- | lows detained for some time.
 'The Human Side of Meat and the IAv- ing Bar of Pig Iron would be matched up | this morning in the back room of some body's liquor-store; they'd train this after | noon on mixed ale and the second joint of the COW, and by 10 o'clock tonight thered | he beef. wine and iron, but mostly wine
 scattered all over the ring; the victorious l gladiator would be leaning negligently on the ropes responding to the glad acclaim of his admiring constituents, and the de- | feated man would come to about this time 1 day after tomorrow, with most of his plans and specifications mostly altered. | His eyes would be black so far down you'd think his whole face was In mourn | ing for the Johnstown flood. Those were l good old days. when no accurate fight | story was complete without the final | statement that at this juncture One Eyed | Connolly leaped through the ropes, chal- | lenged the winner and was thrown out by | the police. Cops in those days got so they l could put One-Eyed Connolly almost as | far as a Harvard field day athlete can l nut the sixteen-pound hammer, which Is l ' feet AZ inches.
 'It wasn't the size of the purse then. l A real champ would fight a man for glory | or to settle an election bet or for pair of red suspenders, or because his folks i were suspected of being Presbyter1ans l from the north of Ireland, or just for the