The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-08-29
NOT A SULLIVAN AT THE SULLIVAN PICNIC It Wasn't the Same Old Outing, Even the Bow
 cry Felt That Tombs Inmate a Member of the Committee Last
 Year and This
(New York Sum-

Even the Bowery. such of it as un- derstood, whistled effectively yester- day morning when with blare of band, shouts of men and general confusion the annual outing of the Timothy D. Sullivan Association began at the as- sociation headquarters, POT BoWery:
 More than 1000 men and boys, most of them wearing white caps and pur- pie badges at a quick step, to the music of the band, made for the Grand Republic waiting for them at the foot of East Third street to take them to Donnelly's Grove. It was the same old association, the same band, the same caps, the same line of march with many of the same poli- ticians in, the line,l but there wasn't a. Sullivan there.
 fellow was missing, the thin, prema- turely gray hair of Christie, the faces of the other Sullivans, cousins by blood or adoption, all were missing, while Little Tim" and "F'lorrie' of course were only memories. The on- ly prominent connection of the fam- fly was Larry Mulligan, foster broth CT, now hotel proprietor, who was master of ceremonies.
 Of course, there were some of the men who once shone in the reflected glory from Big Tim They were present yesterday, and they tried to enjoy themselves amid the dialects of Italy, North Central Europe and even Greece. John J. White, who once was an adherent of Little Tim," is now the president of the Big Tim as- sociation and rode ahead in a Bow cry barouche; Johnny Fitzgerald, Con- gressman Dan Riordan, Judge Tommy Dineen, Judge Hover, Referee Char ley White, Mike Padden, once the Big FoJI ofoY Tzyk a AVT- CT that meant, and the Bowery Beau Brummel as we'll, they all showed up, but it was for old times sake rather than for a days enjoyment.
 There were various small meetings among the old men in the private rooms of the steamboat on the way up, various little meetings after they to while away the time. The real fellows, the old time Tammany over lords, were missing; there was no rea- son for them to come.
 Naturally in the case of an outing for Timothy D's" association the troubles of the police started at the dock. There was the usual rush to stampede the ticket takers: there were the usual attempts to jump over the rails of the boat; the usual swim mers tried to climb up on the other side, but all these were handled suc- cessfully by Lieut.. Mike Summers ana his squad of policemen.
 The moment the Ikes and Noes and Izzys, Tonys, Guses got aboard there was the usual truce and promptly games appeared. They were every thing from chuck-a-luck, the old army game, to stuss and faro bank. There were a dozen crap games, as many stuss games, klondyke and stud po- ker. There was a truce, however, to everything; the games were on the level and the players had declared an arnlstice
 But with it all there was not the usual light hearted confidence among the foreigners or the English speak. ing excursionists The Big Fellow" the man who could fix anything, square anything, protect anyone, get even with anyone, was not there. Many of them had not seen him for the year and they had only heard he had still his power. They knew that "Bridgie'' Webker, who was on the committee last year and this. was in the Tombs and so were Jack Sullivan, Harry vallon, Shapiro, Whitey Lewis and '"Daro'' Frank