Democratic Sentinel, Volume 9, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 July 1885 — He Knew Bill Gimps. [ARTICLE]

He Knew Bill Gimps.

“Do you know the prisoner at the bar?" • “Him?” “Yes; answer up prompt’ “That feller there?" “Certainly. Do von know him ?” “Him?" “Yes, to be sure. Why don’t you answer ?” “Why, pshaw, Judge. Him an’ me married gals out of the same family—sisters, you might say.” “Well, do vou know him?” “Him?” ’ “Can’t you understand plain English ? Do you know this man?” “That’n?” “Of course, you blockhead. Do you know him?” “Know him?* Why, bless your old heart, Judge, he’s got a pup now that I give him more’n five year ago, an’ you never see such a dog in all your born days as that’n turned out to be. Why, pshaw, Judge; you couldn’t find nothin’ like him with hide an’ hair in seven counties; but the way I come to git him was just one of the funniest blamed things you ever heerd tell of. You see the way of it was this—uh?” “Hold on! Stop right there! We don’t want any dog stories just now. Do you know him ?” “Who?” “Why, this man.” “Uh ? Why, I ’lowed you meant the dog. Well, if I’d knowed the pup half as well as I did him you can bet your socks he wouldn’t a never got him, Judge; that s what he wouldn’t. Why, dog-gone it all, Judge, that dog was half pinter, an—-uh?” “Stop this sawing around and answer the question, or you’ll be committed.” “Uh?” “I say you’ll be committed for contempt. ” “For what ?” “For contempt.” “ What’s that ?” “Will you answer the question?” “Yes.” “Well, then, why don’t you do it?” “Do what?” “Answer the question.’* “What question?” “The one I asked vou.” “Which’n?” “Do you know the man ?” “What man?” “The prisoner at the bar.” “I wonder now if you mean Bill Gimps?” “Certainly. Do you know him?” “Didn’t I say we both married into the same family ?” “Yes; but do—you—know—him?” “Well, now, see here, Judge. Don’t you ’low I’d be like to know my own brother-in-law ?” “Will you answer the question?” “What question?” “Do you know Bill Gimps?” “Didn’t I say I give him a pup five year ago.” “Yes; but do you know him?” “Well, now, see here, Judge; I claim to be free born an’ about half white, an’ do you s’pose I wouldn’t have any more sense thun to fool away a dog on a man I didn’t know? No, sir-ee; I never get so blamed Hush with dogs as to waste’em like that. Know him? Of course I do; better’n Ido the size of my own feet or my ole woman’s voice, and I could ’v told you so long ago, if you’d only ast me. Know him at the bar? Why, blast it all, Judge, that’s where I fust got acquainted with him, by his standin’ treat, an’ I never knowed a man, Judge, that was more certain to turn jack right where it was needed in a game of seven-up thun him. You can go your pile on him for that every time, and never get left. Yes, sir ; I’d know Bill Gimps anywhere; even in meetin’, though I don’t s’pose I could ever make out how he got there. Know him? Yes-<sir-ee-bob. I know him as well as Ido when dinner time comes. Is that strong enough, Judge; or do you want me to projuce his note to show how much more I know him? I can do it if sieh is law.” “That will do.” “Uh?” “You may step down.” “Down where ?” “Down stairs, you blockhead.”—Chicago Ledger. , .