Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 200, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 August 1913 — Tales of GOTHAM and other CITIES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Tales of GOTHAM and other CITIES

Policemen Assist Mother in Spanking a Bad Boy

NEW .YORK. —There’s- .a grateful sting in the palm of Mrs. Margaret O'Hanlon’s good right hand to remind her that she has at last achieved her ambition. She has spanked her four-teen-year-old son John —of shameful neighborhood note as “Mrs. O’HanTon’s bad boy"—and, though two brawny policemen assisted in the operation, she it was who struck every indignant blow. John, who is sometimes called “The Eel," because he has the ability of the greased redskin of yore to slip through avenging fingers, has made himself especially worthy of his reputation. Some times, so Mrs. O'Hanlon says, she Just had to stand awestruck and wonder how such a carload of badness could ever have been compressed into her bad boy’s four feet of height and seventy pounds ot bones. First of all, he issued a declaration of independence, in which he stated his intention of staying away from school. Also, he didn't think he would spend all his nights under the paternal roof, being “past 14.” Also, he didn’t think he would take care of his younger sisters, while his widowed

mother was out earning the family’s living, nor would he carry any more kindling wood in for domestic consumption. Seizing his ear—the only portion of his anatomy upon which any one can get a handhold, Mrs. O’Hanlon carried him upstairs. Once there, John began to vent his indignation. He took the kitchen lamp and tossed it out the window. He took dishes out of the cupboard and smashed them on the floor: He tried to wrench the door off the icebox. He slapped his small sisters. He called his mother names. Policeman Herdenreich heard the racket and came upstairs. When he was told Mrs. O’Hanlon’s bad boy was at it again, he entered into the pursuit with a zest. There was a procession to the police station. Lieutenant Hickey on the desk at the “house’’ was astounded when the villianies of John O’Hanlon had been recited. A grin stole over his face. “Take him out in that room," he said. “ “Follow, m'adam," said the lieutenant, bowing toward Mrs. O’Hanlon.. She did, with a great, great joy welling up in her heart. Woman** intuition, perhaps, told her what was going to happen. With Herdenreich holding his feet and another policeman his head, Mrs. O’Hanlon’s bad boy was disposed across his . parent’s knee. And then —and then —but go ask Mrs. O’Hanlon, who can tell you better than any one else in the world.