Democratic Sentinel, Volume 5, Number 38, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 October 1881 — Briggs' Centenarian. [ARTICLE]

Briggs' Centenarian.

[Bxcbange.] The usual crowd was down in the store the other evening, when the conversation turned on old men, Squire rutkins saying that he knew an old man, aged who had recently walked eight miles in the burning tun to purchase a hobby-horte. This brought Brigga to hia feet He slowly rolled around the cud of tobacco in his mouth, and remarked: “That ’ere man of yours, Pitkins, was a ragged old slouch, a no-account nigger, compared to an old roosttf that I “What about your friend?” inquired Pitkins. “Wouldn’t you think that a venerable, gray-haired old man who can skip rope for two hours, at the age of one hundred and seventeen, and not feel tired,is something remarkable?” “Yes.” “And when the same individual draws his wife and daughter in a hand-cart to to the circus, four miles distant, and then wins five dollars by ridiug the trick mule, don’t you admire him?” “Of course.” “And when you continue to hear that he ploughed a ten acre lot yesterday, and after he got through played leapfrog all the evening for relaxation, doea not your admiration fade into veneration?” Pitkins said that he guessed so, and then asked the name of the gay and festive old gentleman. “Knott,” replied Briggs, wanning up to hi< subject Abijah Knott, and a tough knot he is. Now, gentlemen, maybe you’ll think I’m lying when I tell you that he attributes the longness of his life to his always smoking seventeen cigars a day, and never forgetting to wash the back of his neck. In fact, I never saw such a lively old potato bug. We had a ball a week or so ago, and he was there, every time. Danced all the time, played the fiddle for the Virgina reel, helped get supper ready, and sang ‘Auld Lang Syne’ like a lark, coming home in the morning. “He’s got an amazing muscle for a man of his age too. What do you think of carrying a piano up four pairs of stairs and lowering a Herring’s safe out of the window.

“Besides he likes his fun, the old man does. He went down to a wrestling match the other night, threw the champion of the United State over his head and won the belt. And, come to think, have any of you noticed that gorgeous vest he wears?” Briggs waited for a moment, bnt as nobody seemed to have noticed it he continued: “Well, he got that as first prize for climbing the greased pole at the state fair. It made quite a talk at the time, and one of the York picture papers had an illustration of him as he appeared at the top of the pole, waving his vest in triumpth, and scraping the grease from his Sunday pantaloons.” “Is—is Mr. Knott married?” feebly inquired a timid-hearted auditor. “Muchly,” sententiously repliefl Briggs. “He had six wives, and it looks simply beautiful to see how nice he keeps their graves. Got a big sunflower at the head of each, and weepin’ wilier planted square in the middle. “But he ain’t a going to join them yet Not much. He is on the lookout for material to make a seventh funeral, and it would do your heart good to view the old feller’s rig out. He’s parted his wig in the center, got his false teeth patched up, and wears kaleidescope stockings with low-necked shoes. Tell you what, he runs the young men close. “But he never allows pleasure to interfere with business. The very day after his third mother-in-law’s funeral he went right to work and dug up over two thousand hills of potatoes, just as if nothing had happened.” “Did he know any of our Revolutionary heroes?” asked Squire Pitkin. “Did he? You bet! Played tag with George Washington, hooked apples with Tommy Jefferson, and he told me himself how he and Miles Standish lamed old Powhattan by hitting him with a brick while playing “Duck on a Rock.” “That centenarian of yours,” interrupted Bald wick, “is an unblushing old liar. Admitting that he is one hundred and seventeen, now could he know Miles Standish?” “By gum!” cried Briggs, “that’s so!” And then he retired to the darkest corner of the store, and kicked himself all the evening for not being able to tell a story straight.