Rensselaer Union, Volume 11, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 April 1879 — THE “SNAPTOWN TOMMYHAWK.” [ARTICLE]

THE “SNAPTOWN TOMMYHAWK.”

It looked very like a pig-sty; but (t wasn’t. It was the office of the Snaptown Tommyhnwk, and in the estimation of Simon Slope, the editor-in-chief and principal proprietor, was a rather imposing building. The first number of the paper had not yet made its appearance; but it all went well. It would soon burst upon the world with meteor-like brilliancy and more than verify the expectations of the public, which were very high, 1 can assure you. Simon Slope had projected the paper; Simon Slope had formed the company that wss to publish it; Simon Slope had built the office; Simon Slope had been chiefly instrumental in securing the type and paper, and Simon Slope had written the most brilliant of the editorials and the most pungent of the paragraphs; and yet you will be surprised to learn, my reader, that Simon Slope was only fourteen years of age. The Snaptown Tommy hawk grew out of a public need. The boys of Snaptown had been for years groaning under parental oppression and the systematic tyranny of their elders, and they needed an organ. They needed a mouthpiece through which they might lift up their voices against their oppressors. When a month’s half-holi-days had been faking away from them, because they had merely driven a cow into the village school-house and put cayenne pepper onto the meeting-house stove, they felt that tho time had come when they should make their wrongs known to the publio and appeal to that sense of justice that is supposed to slumber in the heart of every community. One day the Snaptown Couranl had published a paragraph reflecting unkindly upon the boys of the place, and Simon Slope had read it. He could hardly contain himself with indignation as the words sank into his heart; and as soon as his father had turned his back he rolled the scurrilous sheet into a ball, and, thrusting it into his trowsers* pocket, rnshed out of the house td a warn) corner by the meet-ing-house horse-sheds, where the boys were wont to assemble for tho twilight loafing. “Lookhere!” he shouted. “Isay, this is too bad. Nobody is going to stand tills Bort of thing.” And he pulled the rumpled paper from among the tops, jack-knives, fishing-tackle and chewing-gum in his pocket. “Now,you fellows, just listen, an’ I’ll read you something that’ll make your hair fairly stand on fend. Here’tis.” And he read aloud the following paragraph:^

“Mischievous Bova-When we consider the aomgß or the boys of this town, we feel such a sense of indignation that we feel that we should like to exchange our editorial pen for a good, thick birch rod a«d give them a thrashing ail round. Wo have heard a good many oomplaints of their behavior; but we did not fully realize the prevailing: spirit of miaehief until it came home to ourowndoor. We did not mind their playing ball before our office till Pandemonium would be quiet in comparison to the street. We did not heed, or, at least, pretenned not to heed, the hieroglyphiae with which our garden fence had been aeoorated. We should have felt quite lost if an occasional pane had not been broken in ,our offloe-wmdows. And we looked upon the hanging of a dead oat to our front door as a harmlesa pleasantry. But when it comes to stretching wire across the sidewalk at such heights that wo alternately abrade our shins and out our throats as we go home at night; when it comes to putting loaded sHoks into our woodpile (one of which blew np our office stove a few weeks ago), we feel that, patience ceases to be a virtue and that honest citizens have some rights that boys are bound to respect. We hope this hint will be taken in the proper quarters, and that sundry parents in this town will heed Solomons wise admonition!. We shall be happy to furnish rods." “ There!” exolaimed Simon,' when he had finished reading. “What do you think: Of. that?” V.'JS’My ain’t willin’ to let us have a little fun,” said Tom Stokes, Simon’s bosom friend, and the very boy who had bored the hole aiuf put the powder into a stick of tjie editors wood: “Something oughtto be done about iV* exclaimed a red-beaded urchin, whose special recreation Was the draw-ing-of caricatures on doors and fences. “ I’ll make a picture of him hanging to a gallows. Paint it in red on his front door.” “ I might lick his little boy,” said a pugnacious ureijin; “ but I’ve done it so often a’ready that he wouldn’t know whht’twas for, an’ I’m afraid’twouldn't do no good.”, “We might serenade him with tin libTOrittidrm Ptos,” said another boy; “bub he’s so used to it now that he sleeps straight through it.” , “i’ll tell you what let’s do," said Simon. “ Let’s start a paper add pay

him back in his own coin. Barse for sarse—that’s what I say.” “ Taken a lot of money to .start a paper,” remonstrated the hieroglyphic “Bother!” saidSimou. “It don’t tafe maoh if you do your own work of it. Wo can toy a press tor (We dollars, and boy second-hand typeby the pound for a little more'n the prfbe of old lead.”

• “ Where you goin’ to get you’re five dollars to buy your press P” asked one practical youth.* “Earn it, you l>ooby,” said Simon. “An’ whose goin’ to write the paper, after you got things? atoms to me it will be a good dew like writin’ compositions, and everybody knows there ain’t no furi in that.” “Oh! I will write most of it,” said Simon; “me and two or three of the other boys. We’ll form a company. Capital ten dollars. I’vo got five already, and I’ll be half owner; and the rest of you can make up fiye more easy enough.” 1 This was the beginning of the Snaptown Tommyhawk. The company was formed, the type was bought and sorted, the press was sot up in the building which the publishing oompany had erected for it. The building, as I’ve said, was not imposing, but it answered admirably. Ola doors, old drygoods cases, in fact any old boards that could be found lying about were used in its construction, and the sash for the windows were surreptitiously obtained from a ruined hen-house on the Slope premises. But I needn’t go into the details of preparation. The Snaptown Tommyhawk becapie a reality in due course of time, and a copy of its first and only issue is lying before me as I write. * Si Slope had a very good conception of an editor’s duties. Tip had thought a good deal about the matter, and askea the advice of his elders. He had heard his father say that “what the public wants is facts;” and fiis mother had remarked that it was gossip that made the people read thejiapers. His older sister, who had just returned from a finishing school, declared that no first-class paper oould exist without a fashion article .and poetry. Then Si’s quick observation had shown him that the most attractive articles in the Snaptown Courant were those that were the most abusive. In fact, he had heard his father say “that fearlessness is what everybody likes in a newspaper calling a spade a spade, and a liar a liar, and a thief a thief;” and upon this free and fearless basis Simon determined that the Snaptown Tommyhawk should be conducted. Then it should be original—nothing stolen from other papers, no rehash of stale jokes, no old rhymes; but all fresh and original. To attain the end of originality, Simon enlisted all the boys of his acquaintance to bring him in items. “Just keep your ears and eyes open, boys,” he said, “ and tell me what you hear and see. I’ll fix it into shape and publish it; and you shan’tbe the losers, yon bet.” The boys were very diligent and effective nowsgatherers; and Si proved to the world that he held the pen of a ready writer, as you will see by the following extracts from the first number of the Tommyhawk. I think I’d better transcribe the whole numbed, as it is not larger than two pages of a reading-book. Here it is-—beading, spelling and all: THE SNAPTOWN TOMMYHAWK. Foundered by Simon Slope. Vol. I. May 15th, 1874. No. 1. motto: be jest and feak not.

Editorial. * This paper is published by Simon Slope and some other boys, to show to old Smith, of the Couranl , that he ain't all creation, as he thinks he is, and that somebody else can write and edit a paper as well or better than him. Most everybody round here has had about enough of old Smith’s sarse, and it Is high time a decent and unscurrilous sheet was started. That is what this is going to be. All the news we publish will be Original, which is not the case with the Courant. We have a large corpse of reporters, and have hired a boss poet, and we do not intend to knock under to any paper in the country. We respectfully solicit the patronage of our towns people, and hope to run the Courant off its legs in about 1 year. Sic semper tyranis.

POETRY. SPUING. BY 8. S. The ‘snow ia gone the iipring is here And planting time has come round Again To ride the merry hone to plow Will make ns boys feel cross as Cain. And now our Bleds ipust be stowed away J For Sliding in hqfcttastber we cannot do. v And skates must also be laid away r~-f?) —- Also ohangeour boots for the festive shoe. I am fond of winter, I don't like spring For in winter you see there is much more play And now we poets our ink must sling And can’t go out to enjoy this bright May day. 9w.i THE SNAPTOWN COCRANT. BY SIMON. The meanest paper under the sun Which hardly anybody ever reads. -r It is like an old rusty Continental gun tsiaded with Punlcm seeds. ~ It can\t shoot straight and it never hita And lit does not hurt if it docs. And when it shoots it kicks so it nearly seta the editor into lit*. Such an editor! Oh— dear mo— bus!!! MANNER. BY ff S E. r-' I love yon hanner—hanner dear And do you hanner love me? . If you do, you see, we’ll build us a boat And go sailing into the Carriboah Sea. I will defend yon while I live Andfight for von till 1 die And if yon don t love me hanner dear 1 shall certainly heave / 4 sigh. NEWS,' The editor of the S n o— — t, on returning' from the lodge of Freemasons, last Tuesday Evening, was called an “ outrajous old donkey” by his wife, who kept him sitting on the doorsteps for three quarters of an hour. He had forgotten his latch-key. BiHy Smith informs us that his sister thinks the new singing teacher just lotely. She remarked at the tea-table last Sunday Evening that all through the singing-school she felt like just flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him. Wecannot commend her taste—for we should not like our sister to case for a man who has his hair: dyed on the sly every Saturday evenings as our barber’s son informs us Mr. Singing Snodgrass does. Mr and Mrs Percival had another p<mlwt. i night. They had better be careful how they quarrel with their wijjdewsxipen. On? friend Tom Stokes informs us that his father' the grocery man dot

keep rum in the keg down. cellar labulled “Soothing Syrup,” and that Captain .Fungus has a jug filled'there every week. Ho says also that his father sometimes puts chalk or some other,white stuff his sugar. Deacon Pepper has aboil on hisnoso. He Ball starves Ms hired boy—afid we’re glad he’s getting his “come upuns.”

The Thompklns family keep their children on rather short allowance. One of them informs us that no more than one piece of plum cake is ever allowed them at a time. Miss Slope will have the minister and his family at tea next Wednesday. Great preparations arc in progress. She has borrowed Mrs Pepper’s china Tea Set for the occasion and the repast will be spread on Mrs Stoke’s long damask table-cloth. She has just sent her best spoons down to Boston to be replated and sent word to have them all matked to look as nigh as can bo like real silver. SJfie says that whatever the minister’s sermons amount to she!* bound ha Shall have a good supper—and that’s what he don’t often get at home with such a wife as hq^has., ARTICLES.— Cats. —Cats aro abput the most interestingest animals there is. You can have more fun with a cat in half an hour, - if you have a good tree handy and an enterprising dog, than you can with a whole traveling menagerie. Cats and fire-crackers are mortal enemies—You tie a bunch to a cat’s tail and set ’em off, and they will go down the street like a firry comet. N. 8., wire is better than string to fasten them on with—as string is liable to burn oft. It is a very pleasant pastime to see two cats fight. Their tails may be. tied firmly together, and for fear that they might tear things up in the garden'it is a good plafTto hang them across a clothes-line. They can be heard miles. 1 have often seen them. Some folks regard this sport as cruel, we call such folks chicken-liv-ered. Did you ever see a shaved cat? They are very singular creatures—it may be done with a razor if you know where your father keeps his’n. You tie up’the cat’s paws in old mittens while you are doing of it. Some folks don’t think it hardly pays—and I shall never be guilty of doing of it—though I do think a father is rather mean who whales his boy all over—wheiMus finger is cut half off - and his face scratched ail over all ready. Kittens are very pretty. There are more than forty of them in the water under the mill bridge. They nearly all of them have stones tied to their necks. It is a very unfeeling thing to drownd. a kitten. They are innercent harmless creatures. Cats are great singers. The Chinese eat cats. What can vou expect of the heathen? Some people hang dead cats as Mav baskets —it is only a joke but the folks that get ’em never seem to appreciate it. There is a great many other things about cats—but I think I have given you plenty of ideas already, so will close. Simon Slope.

That was all the reading-matter that the Tommyhawk contained. There were some advertisements, principally calling attention to the manufacture of sweet-fern cigars and asking for the return of lost balls and jack-knives. Altogether the paper was a success—if the success of a paper can be reckoned by the commotion it creates. The above number was issued on a Saturday morning, and before midnight of the same dry Mrs. Slope had received a note from the minister declining her “ kind invitation to tea” and devoting several pages to as hearty abuse as a minister could frame in language. Mr. Stokes’ store was visited by a committee of the temperance society, who brought an officer to seize the “ sooth-ing-syrup” keg; and before he had fone another minion of the law had lr. Stokes in hand for selling adulterated goods. That same night Deacon Pepper discharged his hired boy without notice. On that Same afternoon Mr. Singing Snodgrass walked into the barber’s shop, thrashed the barber, broke tho bottles. aDd went straight off and proposed to Billy Smith’s sister — who accepted him at once. The edition pf the paper was sold in no time. There was not a copy of it left by three o’clock in the afternoon, and whilo Si Slope was that evening making a selection of candy and dime novels, for which he intended to pay with the proceeds of the sale, he was seized upon by Mr. Percival, who proceeded then and there to chastise him. He had hardly escaped from this angry man before Stokes’ boy -had him by the hair of the head, dragged him into the middle of the street, and, putting him down in the mud, kicked him till he was black and blue. Capt. hungus saw the light and came and helped Stokes’, boy. At -last, covered with mud and with shame, the young editor made his escape and hied him homeward, vowing vengeance, lie was just turning the last corner when he met the boy whom Deacon Pepper had turned away, and this wicked boy had a horsewhip. Such shrieking was never heard before in Snaptown. After this lasi infliction Si sneaked into the yard, saying: “ Never mind. I’ll pay them up next week. I’ve got things to tell about all of ’em. I’ll get every one of them a licking!” Anflfche went across the yard and locked up the Tommyhawk office. As he approached the building, the Tompkins boys sprung out upon him, and, acting as leaders to a score more of fiery and untamed youngsters, they proceeded to tear down the building before Simon’s very eyes, having previously bound him to a tree. Then they pelted him with the types, and, it being quite dark* made a glorious bonfire of the debris of the structure. Mr. Slope, seeing the light, oame rushing out of the house, And, instead of driving the boys away, shouted: “Go it, boys. Serves him right. Apd when you’ve done, I’ll take him in hand.” And Mr. Slope did take him in hand pretty effectually—so effectually, indeed, that Simon was obliged to stand at his meals for a week afterward. j Poor boy! The day after that first and only issue he was seen limping out to the ruins; and as he stood there, leaning on a cane, and surireyed them with his- one unblacked eye.he.Waa heard to murmur: “Things ain’t as they was. There’s no premium on telling the truth nowadays. George Washington couldn't have edited a paper without lying; and I’d rather go to sohodl all .my a ays than ever try it M.jF. Round, in N. Y. Independent. i 7 < ■ * An exchange says that tho only jokes wemen like to read are those which t«fleot ridicule on men, and asserts in proof that on taklqg-up apAper a woman invariably turns to the marriage Column. This is A high-menial charge against the fair sex.— N. Y. Graphic ? ‘i i ■ - • *