Hoodoo Too Much For Columbus Girl

1910

Shoots Herself After Dining at Table With Thirteen

Columbus, Ohio, Nov. 25 — Miss Mary Hollenback, 18, if she recovers from a bullet wound in her left breast, will probably have more respect for the hoodoo number 13. The Hollenback family held a housewarming at their home on the North Side. Members of the immediate family were present and when the time for dinner came it was found there were 13 present. Mary was the last to seat herself at the table. "I don't care if there are 13 here," said Mary. "I can't believe in luck anyway."

Shortly after the conclusion of the meal Miss Hollenback, while examining a revolver belonging to her brother, accidentally pulled the trigger, the bullet hit a corset stay, was deflected and entered her left breast, inflicting a serious but not necessarily fatal wound.

—The Mansfield News, Mansfield, Ohio, Nov. 25, 1910, p. 2.

The Cost of a Cocktail

1916

The Drink a Young Business Man Had to Have Before Lunch

In New York city there is a man who once paid $6,000 for a cocktail. He did not know it then, and he never will know it unless he happens to read this story.

A certain prosperous manufacturing company needed a new departmental manager. The salary was $6,000 a year. The officers of the company considered a great many candidates and at last decided to offer the position to a clever young man of unusual business ability. He seemed to be exactly the man for that particular place. The president and general manager invited the young man to lunch with them at a downtown club, ostensibly to talk over a less important business matter. They wanted to "look him over" just once more.

The man met them at the appointed hour, and the president, anxious to make the occasion a pleasant one, ordered an elaborate luncheon. The waiter was a long time in bringing the first course, and the guest began to appear ill at ease. He seemed absentminded and uninterested in the conversation. He twisted about in his chair and tapped his finders nervously upon the table. Finally he turned toward the president and said almost desperately "Would you mind very much if I ordered a cocktail?" Then he flushed a little and offered a laughing apology for making the request.

The other men exchanged surprised and significant glances, but they called the waiter and ordered the cocktail. When it came the guest drank it eagerly. In a few moments he had become another man — the man of keen vision and quick mind, who could be so useful in their great business. There was no more preoccupation in his manner, no shifting about in His chair. He was alert, eager, clear headed.

But as the luncheon went on neither the president nor the manager mentioned the real object of the interview. Each was thinking the matter over seriously, and neither could be sure of the other's secretly formed opinion. The situation became awkward. Finally the president excused himself on the pretense of going into the library to speak to a friend who had just entered. But after speaking to his friend he went straight to the desk and wrote a message on a telegraph blank. He gave the message to a uniformed attendant and went back to the dining room.

In a few minutes a page brought a telegram to the manager, who read it hurriedly, while the president finished telling their guest about a shooting trip in Maine. This is what the telegram said:

The job is too big for a boozer. We can't run our business by cocktail power. — Youth's Companion

—Stevens Point Daily Journal, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, July 29, 1916, page 6.

Hooray, Butcherin' Hez Cum! (poetry)

1912

HOORAY, BUTCHERIN' HEZ CUM!

Murder, hear them hogs a-squealin'!
Butcherin' at last hez cum.
Oh, jist watch the folks a-hustlin'
An' the sassage grinder hum!

There the hog goes in the scald trough.
Off his bristles quickly fly.
Now they're cuttin' him to pieces
As he hangs on stretcher high.

Zip -- the sassage grinder's goin',
Hiss -- the lard's a-billin' too.
Puddin's cookin' in the kittle,
Oh, smell that hog liver stew!

Let's go run the sassage stuffer.
O you sassage ten foot long,
Slick as grease an', oh, so bully,
Spiced with garlic middlin' strong!

See the purty hams an' bacon
An' the lard as white as snow --
But, hello, they're callin' dinner!
Hurry up: we've got to go!

Fur they're havin' sassage, puddin',
Ponhos, pig tongue an pig feet,
An' the folks at the fust table
Allus git the most to eat.

C. M. BARNITZ.

—Bedford Gazette, Bedford, Pennsylvania, January 12, 1912, page 6.