Rensselaer Journal, Volume 12, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 October 1902 — Our Man About Town [ARTICLE]

Our Man About Town

Discourses on Many Subjects and Relates Sundry and Other Incidents.

“bad man” living near Foresman has been making goo-goo eyes a long time atone ofonr belles. In fact his attentions have been so pressing; that the lady has been obliged many times to resort to strategy to avert an unpleasant orisis. The other evening the lad forgot the rules and asked the momentous question. The lady studied for a long time as to the best answer to make by which she could rid herself of his presenoe and his attentions. Finally she began: “Yon want to marry? You want to be a fool do you and bring other little fools Into the world?” “Oh yes,” replied the yonth fervently, “I’m dead stnok on the job. Will you or won’t ypu?” * “Well, I’ll tell you—l’ll see, but I’ve got to oross question and examine you. Do you know I can introdnoe you to a wealthy, handsome girl who is anxious to marry yon?” “I don’t want a wealthy handsome girl—l want you.”'

“Ouch!” murmured she, “that was a fierce one, we’ll have to put on the brakes if yon going to pnt in such uppercuts as that. I will marry yon on condition that yon can correctly repeat the fool’s oath without stumbling. If you do it I’ll be your polished souvenir; if you fail you won’t come anymore.”

“Fli take you,” he assented. Here is what he had to read: “Sudden swallows swiftly skimming, snnset’s slowly spreading shade, silvery songsters sweetly singing, summer’s soothing serenade. Susan Simpson strolling sedately, stifling sobs, suppressing sighs, Beeing Stephm Slocum stately, stopped she showing some surprise. ‘Say’ said Stephen, sweetest sigher; ‘Say, shall Stephen spouseless stay?’ Susan seeming somewhat shyer shewing submissiveness straightway. Snmmer’s season slowy stretches, Susan Simpson Slocum she—so she signed some simple sketches—soul sought successfully. Six Septembers Snsan swelters, six sharp seasons snow supplied, Snsan’s satin sofa shelters six small Slocums side by side.” The yonth started out reading the above like a race horse, but soon his eyes had a troubled look and his tongue began to stagger and splash aronnd among the “sighing sounds of souls satisfied.” In a minute he tripped on an “s” and fell his whole ength. He may be seen now wearing crepe and carrying a hymnbook with him wherever he goes. ‘ “Snsan’s satin sofa’ did it” he says. V

TXTHEN I look at Rensselaer as it v v now is and then let my memory wander back to fourteen years ago as it appeared at that time, when first strnok the town, I seem to live over again the experience of old Rip Van Winkle as he awakened from that long twenty years’ sleep to find himself still in his native town, bnt yet a stranger. The magic hand of improvement had done its work well in poor Rip’s native village, and while I am not a native of Rensselaer or of Jasper county I cannot help bnt notice with a feeling of awe the work of that same magic hand and the wonderful iransformation that has taken plaee in Rensselaer under its sklllftil manipulation. My recolleotions of Rensselaer at that time are of a little village about one half the present size and the proud possessor of a town pump which was located in thg northwest corner of the court house square and over which stood a towering wind mill that gave vent to many a creak and groan on a windy night.

In the center of the square stood the old brick court house, which at that time was quite the pride of the county, and I am told not only served as a place for settling all county disturbances, but also as a useful meeting place for political parties, debating societies and spelling schools. Just west of this old historic building, which no longer stands but has been replaoed by a beautiful modern structure was the famous croquet grounds. Croquet at that time was qnite the leading sport among the old patriarchs and even among some of the younger generation.. The game had an absorbing fascination for the old fathers in particular and every day

one oonld see the same old femilar feces collected together, smoking contentedly at their pipes and knooklng the balls either to viotory or defeat. Many a sigh, no doubt, escaped some of these good old fethers when the mareh of improvement made it Impossible for them to oontinue their favorite pasttime.

Another institution of those days that still lingers In my memory is the frame saloon bnilding whioh stood on the corner of Washington and Van Rensselaer streets where the Forsythe block now stands. This place beoame famous on account of its Irish proprietor “Mioky O’Halloren”. On a sonny summer afternoon Mioky and hlschnms could be seen seated beneath the large trees whioh then grew in front of the building, and the branches of whioh spread far ont over the street. Their conversation consisted principally of old Irish tales, brought vividly to mind by the all inspiring smoke whioh then blew in large rings from their anoient pipes. Mikey not only oooupied his time in serving drinks to the public and talking over old times, but also In taking care ot his large animal collection, which was made up mainly of boll dogs, goats and eagles. Many Rensselaer people still remember the pride Mikey showed In displaying these pets to strangers.

On the west side of the old Halloran building was a fine smooth pleoe of ground which afforded an excellent ilaoe for marble playing and I remember well how we boys hurried through our lessons at school in order to get nto a game at Mikey’s, as we ealled t. Many a scrape occurred here, over stake grabbing, to use the marble flayers’ term, and many a boy can »11 of the numerous stale beer baths le received from the npper regions of! Mickey’s building. This famous old structure that helped in making bo mnch of Rensselaer’s history was finally destroyed by a' fire several years ago.

Washington street in those days did not possess the fine appearance It does at the present time. Large shade Drees grew ont in front of several of the business bouses and in summer when times were a little dull It was a common occurrence to see the business meif sitting under these same urees talking politiosand other weighty matters of the day. Many an intricate problem no doubt was solved in some of these discussions. Sunday was always a day of quiet on Washington street. The only signs of life were an occasional store box loafer whittling away in a contented fashion. Some times a stray goat or horse wonld wander along, to break the monotony, and I have known times when a dog running pell-mell down the street with a tin can tied to his tail caused no little excitement. I think I have felled to mention the old hitching chain which at that time reached entirely around the pnblio square and where onr good old farmer friends from Nnbbln Ridge, Pleasant Ridge and other suburban points, would hitch their weary steeds, while they did their Saturday’s trade and talking. This ehain disappeared when the old court house did, and several large toed barns have taken its place, and while these barns may not quite coincide with the ideas of some of onr economical farmer friends they serve as a far better protection and place of hospitality to the beast than did their predecessor, the chain. Rensselaer has almost effaced its appearance of fourteen years ago. We are all proud of it today, with its well paved and lighted streets and modern buildings. But to the writer who at that time first saw the town, the contrast is so striking that he felt called upon to make these few comments. V

JT OTWITHSTANDING that this is an aiJe of newspapers, education and progress, there are still a large number of suckers. Among those who attended the Indianapolis excursion last Sunday were two young men from Rensselaer who were caught on a graft so old that the morally degenerated are ashamed to work it. While these two young men were strolling down Senate Avenue they saw two girls, who commenced making rabbit eyes at them. The boys, who have been living around Rensselaer all their life, probably thought it was a case of love at first sight with the girls and immediately proceeded

to chuck them under the ohln. After I a while the girls told our 4 two young duoklings that they must go as they didn’t want to loose their beanty sleep. They went away leaving their fond farewells, bnt that was about ail they did leave, as the boys found they were about fifty dollars shy. Moral— Read the history of your oountry. V mHE Town Humorist was looking doletol the other eve when we aocosted him. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing. Just thinking.” “What about?” “Superstitious—l’m it.” You’re superstitious? Think thirteen’s unlucky number do yon?” “Yes, I do.” “Why?” “ ’Cause my wife was the thirteenth girl I ever kissed. Ya-a-s I think It will rain.” Suffering Annanias!