Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 19, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 November 1897 — GOT THREE TURKEYS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

GOT THREE TURKEYS

HOW TOLLIVER WON HIS THANKSGIVING DINNER. Hi* Five Shots in the Gallery Result in Only Two Misses -Proprietor Gives Him One Bird and Pays Good Money Cor the Others, Boze a Good Shot. Shooting for turkeys on Thanksgiving Ja not confined entirely* 4 to the country. Those people who recall the times in the rural districts when they furbished up the •Id squirrel rfle or the family shotgun and attended nn old-fashioned turkey shoot will be glad to know that there is a chance to accumulate a bird by prowess in marksmanship right hero in town. It came, this knowledge, like a bright ray of sunshine to “Boze” Tolliver. “Boze” hailed from Missouri and he had been in Chicago a year. Times were tough and he and “the •Id woman” had hardly earned enough to keep themselves and the family. “Boze” had done teaming and odd jobs with his horses, but the fact was that right before Thanksgiving “Pete had the cupboard,” to use a Missouri phrase. To be sure. “Boze” had half a dollar, but that wouldn't provide a Thanksgiving dinner for six hungry people. He went out on the street and wandered •long about six blocks, trying to think what he would get the most of for 50 cents. Presently he heard a sound something like a bell ringing and a sound also •f shots. He looked a cross'the street and •aw a shooting-gallery, with quite a crowd collected in and around the doorway, and he crossed the street rather aimlessly to watch the sport for a minute. When he got over there he saw that the crowd were •hooting for turkeys. lie pushed his way’ in and inquired the price of shots and the tales of the contest. Now, “Boze” was a famous shot “back yon in Missouri,” .and could bark a squirrel with his rifle, or even kill a prairie chicken when flying from him straightaway, and his mouth watered at the prospect of gaining a turkey by an exhibition ♦f skill with a rifle. He was told that the price of shots was 10 cents apiece; that he must ring the bell fairly on the ■mallest target to win a turkey. The hole •a the smallest target was about as big •a a 22-caliber cartridge and was exceedingly difficult- for even a practiced marksman to find. Only one man won a turkey while

•Boze” watched the shooting and nearly forty shots were fired. It was evident that the proprietor was not losing money •a the scheme. “Boze” stood and watched. He did not Bke the new-fangled looks of “them ar brich-loaders." Finally, as the -crowd thinned out some the proprietor said to “Boze,” “Want to try your luck?’!, “Well,” replied “Boze,” “I hain't never tried nary brieh-loader, but es you'll let me shoot my own rifle I'll try you a few.” “What caliber is your rifle?” said the •hooting gallery man. “It’s a Hawkens rifle,” said’“Boze.” “Oh! I mean how big a bullet does she throw,” said the proprietor. “Oh!” said “Boze,” “she kerries about a hundred and twenty to the pound. It’s a powerful little bullet,” “How many shots do you want to take?” asked the gallery man. “Well, I reckon about five,” was the reply. “Go ahead and get your gun,” was the proprietor's answer, and “Boze” walked home and got outdiis artillery. It was a typical squirrel rifle, with the “buck horn” hind-sight, knife-blade front sight, cap

tax and patch box in the stock and carlying a bullet scarcely larger than a pea, “Boze” returned leisurely to the gallery after assuring his wife that he •didn’t aim to shoot ary feller.” The ■booting gallery began to fill up to see the ■nzzle-loader perform. “Boze” had meas■red out the powder, carefully greased the ■etch and pushed the ball home with the Hekory ramrod. He braced himself, took careful aim and fired. The ball barely aniseed the center and the bell hummed aUghtly. The Missourian loaded his rifle •are fully, aimed and fired again. This flfane the bell rang clear and true, the omrd cheered and “Boze” smilingly reCMrrked: “By cat, I reckon that gits a gobHer *’ He reloaded his rifle for a third shot ■ad, bringing the gun to his shoulder for • third time, he fired and rang the bell

clearly again. The crowd by this time was in ecstasies, all but the proprietor. Even “Boze” was affected with a sense of joyful hilarity and on his fourth shot he fired a trifle high. Reloading his old standby for the fifth and last shot he brought the gun up with the steadiness of machinery. At the crack of the rifle the bell rang like a gong so clearly had tlfe bullet reached the center. “Boze” was entitled to three turkeys. “Tell you what I’ll do,” said the proprietor. “I’ll give you a dollar and a quarter apiece for two of those turkeys. That will put you two dollars ahead, with your Thanksgiving bird free and your shooting costing you nothing.” “That’s fair,” said “Boze.” “I kain't fight over that.” So “Boze” returned home triumphant with turkey and money and the Tollivers had as big a feed as anyone. And all because “Boze” had cultivated a knack for rifle shooting. As he said to himself at the dinner, with his utterance somewhat choked with “stuffin’: “What a feller kin do hain't allays goin' to do him good, but what a feller kin do kin be depended on to come in sometimes. It looks tO me thataway.”—Chicago Chronicle.

ENTITLED TO THREE TURKEYS.

A THANKSGIVING DINNER AND MONEY TO BURN.