Democratic Sentinel, Volume 15, Number 5, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 February 1891 — PATSY AND THE RAM. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

PATSY AND THE RAM.

A Humorous Sketch.

HE residents of Cooney Island had a wh-'lsome respect for-Mickey Finn’s billy goat. The animal was in the habit of seriously interfering with the perpendicular position assumed by th e isl an d ers w h en

on the street. In fact he had battering ram inclinations. Age did not lessen nor custom stale the playful eccentricity. Indeed, practice seemed only to make him more expert in the adjustment.of the force necessary to accomplish his purpose. For many years he reigned as the champion knockdown of Cooney Island. But, alas! for the perpetuity of goat supremacy, in 1890 a rival entered the field. His rival was a ram of uncertain age,

but undoubted vigor. He was imported by Mike Welch from the village of Wilbur. The ram was smaller than the goat. His horns curled downward. He was black and white in color. With a harrowness and lack of amiability which reflected seriously on the ..masculine sheep, he regarded ail men and women ax his enemies. Even to his friends no favor was shown. His owner quickly recognized the weakness or strength of his four footed property, and after a brief interview with the ram was engaged for an hour patching up his barked shins with sticking plaster. These made very poor substitutes for skin, and Mike wrathfully nursed his bruises and vowed inwardly to take a pitchfork with him the next time he went into the meadow where the ram was confined. Mike’s shins would have been intact had he not been prompted by the dictates of a kind heart to help a friend. It happened that Patsy Fogarty was crossing the feeding ground of the ram, when he attracted the attention of the animal. There was nothing suggestive of an ugly disposition in the appearance of the ram. To be sure, he kept one eye on Patsy, and while feeding edged up sideways ip Patsy’s direction. So marked did this movement of the become that Patsy stopped and waited for the ram to come up, intending to scratch the animal’s head. But when about ten feet away, the ram lowered his head, backed up some four feet and then charged. When his head came into contact with Patsy’s legs, the latter sat down. This act was performed so violently that Patsy thought his spine had been forced up through the back of his neck. Patsy* was still seated when the ram charged a second time, but as a measure of safety he grasped the ram by the horns ahd held on. ’Twas hard work, but Patsy held on until by his cries he attracted the attention pi Mike Welch, the owner .Qfjhe aniinal. “Lave go <>”. that ram.” shouted Mike, running up. “Is it tryln’ to stale him ye are?” “Divil a stale thin,” replied Patsy; “I was just seein’ had he any strength in his neck. Come down and hoult him a minute, Mike. Faix, he’s stronger nor a bull.” “Is that so?” replied Mike, jumping over the wall, “Gi’ me a hoult of him. till I see is he that strong.” Patsy transferred his hold of the ram’s horns to Mike, and then climbed on the wall to watch the fun. f ive minutes went by. Patsy sat on the wall and uttered such comforting remarks as: “Ye’d better not lave go yet, Mike; he’ll break yer legs if ye do! Faix, be has a head as hard as a stove plate, so he has !” Mike’s face was dripping with perspiration. He trembled with excitement and fear. Patsy looked da and chuckled. Mike cursed his luck, the goat, and Patsy; but he held On like t» ’porous plaster. He dared not let go. By this time a crowd of - Cooney Islanders had

collected. They leaned on the wall and laughed until the tears rar down their faces. “Arrah, Mike, dear, s said Mr-. Finn with a gent'e sarcasm, “ye musht be tired holdin’ the dirty baste. L’ave go of him, that’s a dear. Faith, ye’ll be strainin’ yer arrums. Ha, ha!” , “God forgive ye, woman!" gasped Mike, as the ram jerked backwards, nearly pulling his aims out of their sockets. “God forgive ye fur yer sins.” “Ye hav' him, Mike, I see,” said Mrs. Doolan sweetly. “He c’u’dn’t get away from ye now if he was twict as strong, cud he, Mike?” Mike only groaned and glared in reply. He and the ram had tramped down twenty square feet of meadow land in the struggle. The ground was soft and they sank two inches the soil The fight had now been going on twenty minutes. Mike was rapidly getting exhausted. Various suggestions were made to him by which he could relieve himself of his horned antagonist. “Give him the fnt and throw him down; then ye can jump the fence,” said the wresfler on the island. Mike tried to put his idea into practice, but as he was holding the ram at arm’s length it didn’t work. “Ye might try him collar-and-elbow,” suggested the philanthropic neighbor with a grin. “If ye droppod yer hoult on wan horn and put yer arrum around his neck ye might throw him aisy.”

“If I get out o’ this alive I’ll break your back, me beauty!”exclaimed Mike, as I’e ran backward, urged by the ram. The onlookers now numbered nearly a hundred. They came running from every direction, and the shouts of laughter drove poor Mike wild. “Is there ’ere a wan as is man enough to jump the fence and grab hoult of his tail till we carry him across the lot and dump him on the other side o’ the wall?” said Mike in despair. After a long consultation with his mother Mickey Finn volunteered to assist Mike in carrying the goat. When he had secured a good hold on the ram’s tail,, the'ammal was partly dragged and partly carried across the lot, and with a heave-ho, was dropped over the stone wall into the adjoining lot. Mike now deemed himself safe, and was walking back panting from his exertions, when a shout from the crowd warned him that his danger was not yet over.

Glancing over his shoulder Mike saw the ram charging across the lot in his rear. Little Mickey being fleet of foot escaped, but Mike, owing to his exhausted condition, could not run fast. Just before he reached the fence the ram caught up with him, and as a result he was knocked on his face in the mud. Before he could regain his feet the ram had loosened his skin in several places below the knee and seriously interfered with his ribs. Hence the remark made by Mike in regard to pitch forks at the beginning of this story, and hence the recent rise in sticking plaster in Cooney Island. —New York Sun.