DYING HIS BOOTS ON.

Thames Star, Volume X, Issue 3177, 25 April 1879, Page 1

DYING HIS BOOTS ON.

A few days ago a drummer from the East-was taking a nip ioja salooanear the Central Depot, and ha put the proprretor up to a new dodge." It .was to place on the hot stove what seemed to be an ounce ball and cartridge, but the cartridge or shell was of course .emptyr -Very' few loungers Would care to remain in the room and wait for the ejcp'pcted explosion, and once out doors they Vo'ujd jgire room to caah customers.'' .Tlie''.saloonist procured lliree or four.of the'"", bombshells " and the triok was a^supce«B .from, the start. When he had, roped in three or four friends to aid. him they could .clear the room of loafera. in one minute by the watch, and the fat oa their ribs grew in thickness. . ." - ' Yesterday morning an uTtgainfy'looking cl>ap, who seemed to'have been frostbitten by contract, and whose old overcoat was too ragged to even tangle the cold, i dropped into the pace in a quiet way and at once tried to surround the edal-stove. Tho saloonist asked him if be didn't want a hot drink,'and he replied: ' '"",'' " Oh, I guess not—l'll thaw,put;by the fire after an hour at two." j „r ' i ]' '. . Pretty soon a,hint wjs given him-that • he^ould buy a, ten cent c,igar ,for;vfive cents, and tbab reujipded him that Jierjaad a clay pipe and. some tobacco in- bit pocket. The saloonist,thereujian. determined to scare him out. abd "While fixing the fire he placed one of the deoeivers on the stove and leaped Away, with exclamation that' some fiend had "conspired to assassinate him. "J'lio »trang#Tbse up, realised tho peril,• and cfllled but, " How long' 'fore the darned thing; will shoot off? " " You haven't a minute' to r live if you dofi't get'out of doors !'*■' '■'wli the wild answer, as the saloohisGi;ioade a dive for a rear room. - ,' .' l'':<7'- " Pete Adam's," began the stranger, as he shook off his old overcoat;'' "you hain't got a tarnal thing to live for, and you might as well go under now, when coffins aro cheap. Brace up, old boy, and die with your boots on—whoop I" Picking up a stool, he knocked the hot water can off'the 'store at the first blow, and.he was whaling away at) the beertables wheu'tbc SttlopuisVriisnedJnahd scrcatued out:' " ,' ''" ''""' 1 " Fly ! %; or, you're'a dead mail!" " Welcome! King of terrors'^'wliooped Peter, as he tossed'a table clear over the bar-ltpepefs head. ' Three or four men* cam^ in, to help secure him, but before they hid succeodod

in jamming him down behind the coal-box they had. bumps and bruises enough to last them for a month.

'* I'm the clothes-pin that never flies from nothing nor nobody!" remarked Peter, as they finally let him up and sought to Ret 20 doll, damages He hadn't a red cent, and when he had jumped through a back window and cantered down the alley his faded and ragged overcoat alone remained to tell that he had been there.—Detroit Free Press.