“WASN’T SHE A WOMAN.”

New Zealand Mail, Issue 226, 8 January 1876, Page 16

“WASN’T SHE A WOMAN.”

Outside papers must quit publishing fictitious items about Detroit (says the Free Press), or some one will get hurt. Yesterday afternoon a woman with a black belt and a pair of spectacles on, entered the editorial rooms of this paper, holding a Chicago daily in her hand, and she walked up to a stoop-shouldered consumptive toiler, who had dropped in to see a New York exchange, and grimly asked, “ Who’s Sarah ?” He replied that he had never heard of her, when she unfolded the paper and pointed to the following : —“ There’s an old woman in Detroit named Sarah who has worn one pair of stockings right along for sixteen weeks.” “It is a lie,” said the old lady, “and you’ve got to take it back or—or —l’ll—• !” She finished by sliding her hand along his shoulder until her fingers got hold of his necktie. “ I haven’t nothing to do with that,” he gurgled, he tried to pull away; “that’s a Chicago paper.” “I know it, but it’s a lie, and I can prove it.” “ I know you ca.n, madam, if it was meant for you. I don’t believe you’d go eight weeks without changing stockings.” “No, nor even six,” she exclaimed, pressing against “Adam’s apple” with her thumb. “ I can prove that I change as often as anyone else.” “ I don’t think it means you,” he said, getting his left eye on the item. “Yes’ it does’” she foamed. “Ain’t my name Sarah, and ain’t I oldish, and ain’t I a woman ? Oh ! such lies make my blood bile !” “ Well, you want to go for someone in Chicago. It has nothing to do with this paper.” “Hain’t, eh ? I know better ! You are linked in together, and I presume you read that yesterday and lafed and lafed, and thought Sarah was an old fool !” “I never saw it before.” “But Sarah is no fool !” she resumed, towering above him. “You just mark this, you long-geated grave-stone stone you : If thar’s another item in the papers about Sarah, you’ll never, know what broke your neck !” And she laid her fist on the table, flourished under his very nose, and went out saying : “ Sixteen weeks ! Think of the baseness of it !”