The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1911-06-17


lately about the laws delay That is be-
cause the President does not know Squire
Hibben. When the machinery of justice
begins to grind, with the Squire's hand
on the throttle and his one sound eye
fixed on the straight and narrow path OF
duty, look out for results.
Somebody is going to be nicked, or
trimmed, or stood up, or shaken down
for $500 and costs, the total often
amounting to as much as $l475,
This talk about the guilty escaping
does not apply to our town. Nobody
escapes. 1t is almost as dangerous to
be innocent as it is to be guilty.
Any man arrested and jerked before
Squire Hibben had better begin counting
out his money.
The Squire has small cubical office
Just back of the postofice. On the wall
is a map of the state. On the table is
copy of the Revised Statutes. On the
floor is a box filled with sawdust.
Would you like to see the Law being
applied without fear or favor? Then fol-
low along.
Homer Finkley has a dog. 1t is
conventional small town dog-part set
ter, part pointer, and the remainder of
the escutcheon somewhat blurred. 1t is
the kind of dog that never suspected
having an ancestry and if it did, 1t
would try to hush the matter up.
Tom Jimmison walks out of his back
door after a hot breakfast to inspect the
dwindling supply of anthracite and hnds
the Finkley dog, christened Hero for nc
particular reason, snuffling and smelling
around his wood shed. He is annoyed by
this bralen act of trespass and hurls
piece of coal at Hero, and strangely
enough, hits the target.
Hero establishes a new speed record
up the alley, running close to the ground
and emitting staccato yelps expressive
of physical agony. Nervous shock and
acute private humiliation.
Homer Finkley is standing at the end
of the alley and wants to know what ails
Hero.
Then the Thornton boy, in desire to
promote warfare, says that Tom Jimmi-
son damned him with piece of coal so
big" indicating something larger than
a cocoa nut and not quite as big as
football.
Homer Finkley's emotional nature i'm
mediately goes to the boiling point. He
knows that he (Homer) and the other
members of the Finkley family are the
only persons who have a right to do
things to Hero.
He walks around on Third street and
meets Tom Jimmison, who is on his way
to the elevator where he is employed
to weigh the loads and explain to the
farmers why the price of grain has gone
to the bow-wows.
Mr.. Finkley opens up.
Look here! What was your object in
tryin' to Fill my dog?"
Well What business did he have
sroopin' around my back yard?"
That dog never harmed nothin' or no
body. My little girl plays with him by
the hour That dog has more sense than
lot of people ] know"
Got no business over in my yard"
tom Jimmison, if | ever hear of you
harmin' hide or hair of that dog agin.
I'll make your heels hit the back of your
neck I'll lay you across my knee and
spank you! Anybody that'll pick on to
a dog is cheap, ornery, low down, dol
derned piphead O misery"
Think OF being called pin head of
misery"
Homer Finkley is big, rough Clydes-
dale, with an eighteen neck and cor
rugated hands. Tom Jimmison is min
pound imitation of what his parents
hoped would grow up to be a human be-
ing.
When you look at him you get merely
the disappointing impression of pair of
spectacles and an Adams apple.
Any peronal encounter between the two
would conform to the general outline of
a battle between a colored' chef and
spring chicken. But, of course, Tom has
to go through the motions of sustaining
his end of the argument, especially as
the Thornton boy is standing by eagerly
absorbing the details so that he can tell
his mother all about it and hereby get
the facts into general circulation.
So Tom wags his head and says, "Ho-
mer Finkley, you'd better be a little
careful how you talk to me-" and then
walks rapidly away before losing his
temporary advantage.
AS he passes down the street he is
still stunned and bewildered by the sud
denness and the ferocity of the attack
on him and then, as he recalls, over and
over, the highly insulting language used
by the domineering rufian, a white hot
wrath and an aching desire to be re-
venged begin to curl and writhe in his
system.
What does he do? He pegs down the
street, breathing heavily through his
-
Buskirk and Hooper. Ed Buskirk 10
busily engaged, whiting a chain out of
a solid piece of wood, but he comes out
from underneath the shavngs and listens
to the story of the outrage.
I'D a been justified in hittin' him.