Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 May 1877 — A Barkeeper’s Triumph Over a Dead- Beat. [ARTICLE]

A Barkeeper’s Triumph Over a DeadBeat.

A sad-eykd old man, meanly clad and wearing a cardinal nose, cut very full at the tip, called in at a West-Side saloon early yesterday morning, and told the barkeeper to hand him down the ten-cent whisky. The barkeeper had his suspicions of the man’s general appearance, but there was no guilty tremor in his voice or abashed dropping of the eye at the critical moment, so he guessed he could risk it. The old man filled the tumbler brim-full and took it off. “ Well, you’ve got nerve!” sarcastically replied the barkeeper, as he replaced the bottle; “ten cents.” The old man, with an air of confidence, felt in his left vest-pocket —vainly. “ Made a mistake,” he said to himself, cheeifully, and he tried the other one with equal lack of success. “ Hurry up, mister man I” exclaimed the barkeeper, as the old man, with a visible elongation of countenance, felt in his watchpocket, turned it inside out, and recovered the end of a match, some fluff and two newspaper scraps. " I’ve got a dime somewhere here, but where in thunder tinuing his fruitless researches into the domestic economy of his clothing, while all the while his face kept getting longer and longer. “ See here,” finally said the exasperated barkeeper, ‘‘that’s too thin; it’s played out; it’s n. g.; fork dver that ten cents in about a quarter of a minute, or else I’ll- —” “ You’ll what ? anxiously queried the customer; “not kick me out ? You surely wouldn’t raise your foot against a poor old man like me, save in the way of kindness?” “No,” replied the slinger of gin, “ but I’ll call in an officer and have you arrested Cor obtaining whisky under false pretenses, and that’s from two to seven years at Joliet. Now hand out that dime.” “Don’t call a policeman, don’t,” pleaded the old man, piteously, bursting into teats and sitting down on an empty beer-keg to pull on his boot; “I’ve got some money in my sock,” and he extricated thence a creased ten-dollaj bill. “ Here are the savings of a lifetime,” he said; “I wanted to save up enough money to take me home to Elmiiy, N. Y., but taKe it, take it.” “You hoary-headed old scoundrel,” said the barkeeper; “you wanted to beat the bouse with a regular Black Hills and SubTreasury in your boot, did you? Pretended yon hadn’t any nioney! Yah! I’m & mind to kick you out anyhow; Here!" and he laid the’ old man’s change on the counter ; “ take ydiir money and get out of this.” “ You vriU y«t own that you are mistaken in me,” plaintively whimpered the old mam. “WTO you git, or won’t yout” ytUed the barkeeper, catching up a bong-starter, and the old man, in mortal terror, shuffled out. When the boss came in about three hours later, the discovery was made that the bill was bad, and subsequent inquiries showed that the old man had rung in dght.othen on the vigilant barkeepers of the same ward the same morning. —Chicago Jrib une. *•>■< :< < —An Irish waiter, speaking of a lady’s black eyes, says; i “ They are mourning for the murders they have committed.” It is estimated that 100,000 buffaloes have been killed ih Colorado the past season for their hides alone.