Rensselaer Journal, Volume 12, Number 9, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 August 1902 — Our Man About Town, [ARTICLE]

Our Man About Town,

m Discusses j Sundry v and ) Other Matters.

A young hopeful recently spake to his father who is a subscriber: “Paw, the Journal says that they gave an ovation to a general a week or so ago. What does that' mean?” “Um er-well, the faord ovation is derived from the Latin. Ova means egg; ovation means the fellow received a shower of eggs.” “Good! Go up foot.” *** He had the manners of a Chesterfield and the long, flowing beard of a patriarch, and those who saw him accost a youth in front of Long’s store last evening, noting the cut of his black Prince Albert coat, thought he must be a minister of the gospel. “Pardon me, my young friend,” he said, with a benevolent smile to a young man who stood hear; “pardon me for venturing to address you, but I wish to ask what may seem to be an impertinent question. Do you smoke?” “No sir, I do not,” was the reply.

“Oh, indeed!’’ exclaimed the old gentleman, his face lighting up with a pleased expression. “Now, you would be surprised,” he continued, to know how many of our young men I have asked the same question during the past few weeks have made the same reply.” The listener looked interested but said nothing. “However,” resumed the speaker, “I have in my pocket a choice cigar, and it was my intention in case you smoked, to give it to you in exchange for”— here he hesitated, then continued in apparent confusion,—"for the price of a sandwitch.” Another pause followed, but as the youth made no move to produce the nickel the benevolent party moved on adding, “Never mind, maybe the genial restauranteur Mr. Goff will be lenient enough to accept the cigar.” A moment later be was seen in conversation with another pedestrian whom he had accosted by the Makeever House. • * A murder? And in the town of Rensselaer? Can it be true? Murdered in the first flush of an innocent and unfettered youth. Murdered and deserted by a relentless and insensate foe! It was the clear cool of early evening. The first shadows were marking across the open of Van Rensselaer street. The blistering sun had burned to ashes and humanity bad stopped complaining—for a moment. Within, the room was sufflcatingly warm, as if the heat of the day had left there its very dregs. The stuffed fnrniture was hot to the touch, the carpet was burning to the tread. There on the floor lay the victim of a man’s cruelty unavenged. But there were those present who had seen the deed, for murder cries with a hundred tongues; and though It was a little wound that let out the busy life, it clamored for revenge as loudly as did all of Oaesar’s gashes. Then those who saw the tragedy ran and told; and others came and gazed on the silent witness and on the heartless murderer sleeping heavily beside his victim. Was the man without heart? Or, stay I was he overpowered by a drug? He reposed at full length in a wicker chair; his coat off—perhaps torn off in the last terrible struggle. A handkerchief was thrown over his face—perhaps to hide the dreadful picture. He breathed stertorously; and somber twilight settled down. , In pity they approached him. Even a murderer must not die uncared for. The sound of consultation disturbed

him, he stirred, muttered a wicked word. Enough, the callous brute dozed beside his victim without pity and without remorse. So with cries of rage they sprang upon him; from all sides —like a cyolone, or sand storm. There was to be no quarter. Not even a common Kentucky lynching. With a shriek of fear and rage he sprang up wildly. In vain he struggled. There was no escape. The brothers, sisters, grand unoles and all the poor relations of the murdered youth made war upon the barbarous wretch. It was the old, old feud of the bald headed man and the fly. * # *

A farmer well known in the neighborhood as a man who disposes of large quantities of grain at our elevators started to drive in the other day with a load of wheat. It happened that he had invested in a new horse a few days before and this was the first opportunity he had had of trying his purohase. When be came to the Monon railroad crossing for the first time in his life he began to wonder whether it is always profitable to buy upon the advice of a horse prophet. The animal halted square on the track and braced his forefeet against the far side steel rails, then he sniffed the air like a connoisseur of junk. For a few moments the farmer patiently tried to persuade the laggard on, but it was no use. The animal was as dopy as Fitzsimmons in the eighth round with Jeffries, and refused to budge. It was then that the driver anxiously regarded the horizon for signs of a coming train. And as the thougnts stole over him of what might happen the perspiration began to flow and he jabbed the balker with the rear end of his boot. The horse calmly ate up an aggravating blue bottle fly and kicked. Our friend scratched his head. “Wonder if I oan get damages if a train does come? That looks like smoke,” he remarked. Out he leaped and seizing the bridle began to pull forward. Pegasus ran out his tongue derisively, and then fractured a single-tree by a well directed upper cut. And the lather stole out on the farmer’s brow. As he plied the red bandana he felt satisfied that if the train should come he would get damages all right—but how much? Probably less than he had paid for the horse. Then he noticed a bit of smoke mist looming on the horizon. Again he plastered the sides of the beast with kicks and unflattering words. The balker made a place kick and shaved the farmer’s shoulder by a crooked swing that was delivered with Kentucky blue grass energy. The cloud on the horizon grew larger and then faded away. Such are the gymnastics of the human mind that the wearied owner was reduced to the point that he didn’t oare for the damages but only hoped the train would come. Pegasus redoubled his attack and winked a red eye; he was as shy as a June bride or a Bowery debutant. At this point the farmer, worn out, climbed to the top of a freight car and was ready to give a little if the train would come. The smoke loomed up again; the rumble approached and Pegasus/with an air of having done his whole duty started forward with bis patient companion in the traces just in time to drag the wagon safely across the track. After the farmer got his grain in the elevator he was seen in earnest consultation with a horse trader, and it is now understood that there is another good horse for sale cheap. Reason—because he is too light for farm work.

Working the Vick Sensation. The Ohloago Ohronicle of last Sunday published a portrait of Mrs. Ohas. Vlok No. 2, formerly known as Miss Emily Miller, of Harvard, 111., together with a two oolumn article devoted to Vick and his doings. The following is a portion of the Ohroniole artiole: The story of the wedding as told by Mrs. lianrahan is as follows: “It was New Year’s eve. Vick came over to supper that night and after the meal was over asked my sister if she did not want to take a street car ride. He said he had to meet a man at 7 o’clock and she had not better stop to change her dress, but simply slip on her cloak and hat. “My sister went with him. They went to the south side and Anally he persuaded her to go to Justice Underwood’s and be married. When my sister came home she told me they had been married. We did not like it but said nothing at the time. “Vick came to the house from time to time always stating that he was just in from a trip in the country for his Arm, Nothing wrong was suspected until a month after the wedding. “One night he went with my husband to a drug store near here and as they walked along Vick said he would like to show his appreciation of the kindness that had been shown him. “ ‘I would like to make your wife a present,' he said. Vick then went into the drug store and wrote out a check for $lO and told my husband to give it to me. The check was on a Rensselaer bank. “I cashed the check in a day or so after that and a few days later I received word that the check was no good. There were no funds in the bank to the credit of C. L. Vick. “The young man was out of town and we could not ask him about it. We thought this a very strange thing and decided to look the matter up. We had heard him say he had a brother working at a downtown restaurant. My husband looked him up. He found a young fellow with the name of Harry Cook, who said he was a half-brother to C. L. Vick. “When my husband told Cook the trouble the young man was thunderstruck. He said his half-brother had a wife and child in Indiana. “The next day my husband and Cook went to Rensselaer and there they found Vick’s Arst wife living with Vick’s father. She had a ten months’ old child in her arms when they called. My husband succeeded in getting the marriage certlAcate of the Arst wife, Annie Summers, and brought this back. With the evidence he collected he had the matter brought before the grand jury and Vick was indicted for bigamy. “The detectives went to And him and Anally they located him in Sunman, Ind. There it was learned he had married Miss Ella Heisman, the daughter of a wealthy farmer. He was arrested on the charge of bigamy. His wife and father-in-law refused to believe the charges and Vick was able to furnish bail. “When the detectives Anally arrived to bring him back he had fled and they were unable to And him.” Miss Miller, who is not yet 19, is very anxious that the roan shall be punished. “It is not so much that I care about myself,” said the young woman, who has a good position in one of the big department stores of the city, “but I don’t want him to go about fooling any more young women. Since he went away from here, a month after we „were married, I have had no word from him. I And that he left me and went down into Indiana and married another young girl. I want him punished so that he will not fool any more girls.”