Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 45, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 July 1891 — REUBEN’S OLD DAD. [ARTICLE]

REUBEN’S OLD DAD.

He Almost Lifted the St-ate of Ten’ nessee. N. Y. WoriA I got off at a small railroad station in Tnenessee to find a crowd in front of a saloon, and as I began inquiring the cause of the excitement a' young man of twenty turned and replied: “Stranger, I kin tell ye all about it. Do ye want to see the corpse?’’ “Then some one is dead?’’ “Dead as a coon track, and it's mv old dad at that!’ “Been a row here?" “Not a bit of it. Dad jest made a fule of hisself. He's in thar waitin’ fur a cart to take hisself home to be laid out and buried. ” “Never seed nuthjc’ to ekal it in all my bo’n days!” said a man in the crowd. “I was right yere. or I wouldn't bare sniggered to it nohow,” added a second. “It was jest this way. stranger,” continued the son, as be picked a sliver off a pine box and began to whittle at it with a springback jackknife. “Dad an’ me comes down yere this mawnin’ to buy a mewl. Dad was powerful frisky all the way down, ana he sez to me, sez he: “Reube, I kin out-walk, out run, out-shute, out-holler and out-lick anyth n’ on top of this yere airth’s

i surface, and I'll bet our farm agin a drink of Nashville whisky on it!' ” “I sees dad was purty chucky, and I sez to him, sez I: 7* ‘Dad, you's top of the heap around yere, and nobody kin deny it, but doau you go <*s4, nieet U P no fight in’ to wn. We*s arter a mewl, we is. and we doan' want no fussin’ nor nuthin’.’” “And with that dad jumps fo’ feet high and cracks his heels together, and whoops out that he's bar-traps, pizen. powder and catamount, all biled down into one, and that he's dangerous if anybody goes to pick up his bind foot.” “Yaas, and I hears him holler when he's a mile away," said one of the crowd. “Of co se you did, ” replied Reuben, “of co'se. bad was powerful on the holler. He'd holler a b'ar out’n a tree half a mile away. When we got down yere thar’ was a feller from Memphis with a patent liftin' masheen astandin' right here. Thar's the pjpcps of it agin the fence, while the Teller hisself is ten miles away and still runnin’.’’ “But tWasn’t his fault.’ protested a man on mule-back. “I ain’t sayin' as ’twas,” placidly answered Reuben. “lina-sayin as dad got mixed up ani made a fule of hisself. No sooner had he sot his eye .on the masheen than he cracks his heels together and crows like a rooster and sez to me, sez ho. “ ‘Reube, I kin pull the hull durned State of Tennesee right up by the roots if I kin git a brace fur my feet, and I'm going tb try it," “I tried to shy him off by talkin' : mewl, but dad was powerful sot in his wavs, and he crows some more and hollers: ‘ “Whoop —whoope! Lcmme git hold of them there handles, and all yous who don't want to tipover wh«n the airth con ts ’up had be ter h b; to the fences: x».eube stand back gimme room!" “Yaas, I heard him say them remarks,” put in one of the crowd. “So’d I," added half a dozen voices. “Of co'se he said 'em,” continued, Reuben—” of co'se. Nobody's denying that he said 'im. Dad iust figgured on pullin’ most of this yere airth up as easy as you kin lift the top crust of a pie. He spit on his hands, grabbed them ere handles, and when he straightened up I jest felt the ground trembling all around. ” “So'd I,” called seven or eight voices in chorus. “Dad had one side of thehull county lifted up two foot high, when there was a rip and qsmash—them handles tore out, the masheen flew to pieces and the airth sunk back with achugg, which made us dizzy." “Then your father had broken a blood-vessel, or something of the sort?” I queried. ‘ ‘Skeercely, stranger—skeercely. Dad wan t no man to stop at one blood-vessel. He jest busted hisself all to pieces, and was a goner afore we could reach him. I might say he sort o’ run together and caked. He was six feet high when he grabbed them handles, and now you can't make him over four foot ten as he lies in thar on a board. Jest pulled his knees up and his shoulders down, and I reckon his lungs would hold his galluses up if thar was any buttons on ’em. The man who owned the masheen wasn’t to blame —of co’se he wasn’t—but when he seed the calamity he started fur Knoxville on the jump, and he was jumpin’ when he turned the co'ner of the hill up thar! Dad’s in yere. stranger. Come and take a look. Mighty good man. dad was, but a leetle too coltish when he had about fo’ drinks of applejack under his shirt bosuin. Crowd back thar. boys, and make room. Doan’ act like you never dun met up with a calamity spectacle befo’!”

M. QUAD.