Thursday, November 1, 1895
I LOATHE, abhor, detest, despise,
Abominable dried apple pies.
I like good bread, I like good meat,
Or anything that is good to eat,
But of all poor grub under the skies
The poorest is dried apple pies.
PAY YOUR ANNUAL TOLL
All persons in arrears on annual toll, either at Edray or Marlinton gate, will conserve their own interests by an early settlement of same. Tolls must be collected.
GEO. P. MOORE
Supt. Etc.
GRAND FOOTBALL MATCH
The “Mingo Redshirts” encountered the “Elk Ironclads” in a bloodless (with the exception of a few broken noses) battle, which was pitched on the plains of Linwood on Saturday.
The valiant “Redskins,” the envy and admiration of all beholders were thirsting for the gore of the noble Elk warriors, and the war was waged hot and strong, to the knife, on both sides. Immediately the ball was set a-rolling at 2:30 p.m. It was clearly evident that the game would be most closely contested. All the elite and fashionable of the Big Spring Valley had assembled, and many a “lady faire” graced the festive scene with her presence, and took up “coign of vantage” on adjoining logs…
After 1 1/2 hours of hard and fast play, the match was decided as a “tie,” each team having scored two goals…
Now, Marlinton boys, take my word for it! You will have your work cut out for you if you intend to whip the Elk Men of Iron, for they play with a will and pluck that baffles description. You had better bring a few tins of “condensed pluck” along with you, when you play your football match against Elk.
“Never say die whilst there’s a shot in the locker!” is their motto. Moreover, they are as nice a gentlemanly set of fellows as one could wish to meet anywhere…
“Little Jim” Gibson, the world-famed hunter, was the mainstay of the Elk jumpers, and he and his brother, Bob, showed that splendid sand and grit they are made of, by playing in their stocking feet! A poor tenderfoot (from the other side of the Herring Pond) said: “You’ll knock a bit off your toes, Bob. To which a laughing reply came wafting down the breeze: “Doggone! I can spare a slice!”
That is the stuff the jolly mountaineer hunters are made of…
“Plunged in the Linwood smoke,
Right through the line they broke,
Dakers and Lindsay
Reeled from the pedal-stroke,
Shatter’d and sunder’d
Into the Mingo goal,
Charged the Elk warriors!”
HOME NEWS
THE rain, so greatly needed, fell on Sunday, and melted the dust, which was getting worse every day.
MASTER WILLIE HANNAH, aged 13 years, son of Andrew W. Hannah, of Elk, killed a four pointed buck last week, the first shot he ever had at such game.
MR. NEWTON DUFFIELD attempted to burn some trash on his farm. The hay stubble took fire, and before the flames could be suppressed two or three haystacks were destroyed.
THE late freezes have made the “glories of autumn” almost disappear, and nature is rapidly putting on her winter looks. It is high time to get your fruits and vegetables out of reach of the nipping frosts.
MRS. ALLIE HAROUFF, near Marlinton, found a wild turkey on an apple tree, and by a well-directed aim with a rock, brought it down. The bird soon recovered consciousness and is now thriving for the forthcoming holiday festivities.
IT is reported that a very large bear is terrorizing the residents of Beaver Dam and vicinity. He came so near two of Jacob Simmons’ children that they threw a bucket of water on him, and while the bear was wiping his eyes, the youngsters made good their escape.
WANTED: A young man of experience in wagoning, and, also, who can clerk in my store when I am absent. He must be of a good character, and positively must be free from the habit of indulging in strong drink. Apply to:
W. B. HILL, Lobelia, W. Va.
A PRINTER of a paper lay gasping in his lair, there was lack of news to gather, there was dearth of things to scare; and the “devil” stood beside him, to hear what he might say, to get a “local” or a “newslet,” ere his ideas ebbed away. The printer never faltered as he filled that comrade’s hand with a joke so old and feeble that all papers should withstand; but he said: “That is a token to that Editor of thine, he that is gone a-hunting, and left us on the grind.”
