Deadwood Free Press Vol.

2 Issue 27

December 13, 1878

Vol. 2 Issue 27

December 13, 1878

Bandits jailed; hotel roBBed
Several men associated with the robbery of Miss Sparta’s hotel, the former Phoenix, have been jailed. There were several shootings around town associated with the incident. “I was at the hotel last night, when it all started,” stated a witness, Judge Rod Eun. “I think it started as a robbery. They came in with masks.” “They wanted money, but somehow the shooting started. It all happened pretty fast. “They ended up in the mines, as normal.” There were injuries in shootings within the mine, as well as other accidents in the dark. The photo shows two men, one .. uh .. saving the other. We hope. Among those wounded in the gunplay was Mrs. Echo Devon-Torkelsonn, though her recovery is reported.

Bella Union Robbed
Citizens came to the aid of former Town Councilwoman Salissa Wilder, owner of the Bella Union, and gunned down two vile men who attempted to have their way with her and rob her. Mrs. Diogenes Kuhr located a shotgun in a back room and took advantage of her position on the second floor to hurt both men who released Miss Wilder. One, a Joe Verwood, was wounded and escaped only to be cornered by Sheriff Glen Devon, who was wounded himself in the gun battle. The second man, whose name was unavailable, also attempted to escape before turning the corner to the stairway and running smack dab into Methodist Minister Rev. Baird Bravin. The villain got off a shot that nicked the pastoral elbow, but the minister was able to squeeze off two shots that downed the villain for capture. Miss Wilder, though struck in the head by the vile men, was not shot, though she was nearly hit by a bullet in the exchange. “Any closer and I would be missing an ear,” Miss Wilder said. Still ... “I am so grateful to my fellow citizens,” she commented.

Among those injured in the melee was Judge Rod Eun, struck in the head. It is to be noted that neither he nor the sheriff struck the men in the testicular manifest though it would have been sorely tempting, instead it is reported the men were clutching that region because they had overeaten on beans earlier. Nope. Nobody kicked them. Miss Wilder said the men had actu-

ally been employed by her, and had been offered wages when they decided to attack her. She commented that other capitalists should learn from her error and not open a safe near men of ill repute. Rev. Baird said he was outraged on the attack upon the innocent woman and would be preaching about it on the streets. “It’s a disgrace if this town cannot respect Maidenhood,” he said.

Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 27

December 13, 1878

Letters to the Editor
Editor, I wish to bring to your attention, and by their perusal of your publication, the Town Council’s attention, of a most disturbing issue. I was walking down Main Street the other day, minding my own business, mind you, when a drunken lout staggered out of one of the many houses of iniquity that abound within our city, and knocked me over. This deplorable specimen of humankind then just started to stagger away. I of course called after him to let him know that such conduct was not appropriate to the locale nor the time of day, it being before 10 a.m. This lout turns and weaves his way back to me and tells me to, well, I cannot say the word being a good Christian and your worthy publication would not print such profanity in any case. Let it suffice he took a few minutes to describe my dubious ancestry and personal habits. He then most unexpectedly punched me. When I awoke a few minutes later, he was gone. I tried to find an officer of the law, but our brave constables were nowhere to be seen. The Town Council must do something about the sinful ways of the miners and other less desirable elements in our society. A Christian man should not have to be exposed to such brutality within the limits of our Town. Jerome Harcroft III, Esquire Deadwood Editor, I am writing to ask everyone who has been good this year to please ask Santa to find Morton the dog and send him back to Miss Elizabeth Vita. If everyone who has been good uses their Christmas wish to get Morton back, Santa will have to listen to us. I am using my Christmas wish, and so is my father, Mr. Clay Kungler. We need more people to do the same and wish for Morton to come home. Y can write a letter to Santa at his ou home address. Santa Claus North Pole Y could write something like this: ou Dear Mr Claus, I have been very, very good this year. All I want for Christmas is for Morton the dog to return to Miss Elizabeth Vita of Deadwood. Please help. I will continue to be good. Sincerely ___________ Please everyone, do this and we can give Elizabeth a Merry Christmas. Thank you, Miss Rachel Kungler Deadwood Deer Edditer, Me an Charlie was a thinkin we outter rite a lettr, to make you awarre of a greet wrong. Weuns was goin inta this here hoor house down by th crick. It were a nasty place, but me an Charlie caint aford bettr. Anyways, like we was sayin, me an charlie went into this hoor house an afore we kin say “how much fer a tussle”, this big feller don tole us th place was closed. I got a bit het up over thet, as I was a feelin a mite frisky ya know. That bein th reason we was there. Well sir, I sed, we aint a goin til we done got we done come ta git. This big feller, he sed no agin. Then he sed it were a sin agin God ta fernicate this away. Now, I dunno wut fernicatin is, so I tole this pup we was there fer some frolicin dont ya know? Well now, he got ta quotin from ta Good Book an then tole us fer our own good he was a goin ta chase outta there like Jesus done to th moneychangers. Charlie said ifn he tried we would stomp a mudhole outta him an walk em dry. That big feller took after us an corse we done fit back. That feller he culd fit rite nough. He knocked pur Charlie out afore I culd hitem one wit a chair. Thet took th fight outta em, but by then th pimp whut run that hoorhouse pulled a shotgun an chased all three of us out. I aint afeered a much, but I aint argufyin wit some yahoo whut gots a shotgun pinted at me belly. Reckin th reson weuns is ritin this is we think th paper outta com out n say thet a man gots a rite ta git his ashes drawed now n agin witout some jackass a gettin inta way. Signed, X (Ezra’s mark) Charlie Miners I know this will be a surprise to regular readers of the Deadwood Free Press, which is close to celebrating its 2nd anniversary as an institution of truth. But sometimes newspapers are not accurate. Sometimes they are manipulated. This is not surprising, as humans are humans and subject to the conditions therein of error. Or evil and sloppy thought. Sometimes the casualties of misinformation can themselves become the problem, and so it is about report regarding Indians which inspire either panic or laziness, and not the rethinking of public policy. It began with a report in the ((RL)) New Y ork Times stating that the Red Cloud Indian Agency was running out of food. The report said food was at the Missouri and simply could not be transported the 200 miles needed. Bear in mind, it’s up to the Indians to show their gratitude to the Great White Father by doing the transportation, and the report said they had only 100 wagons and “puny ponies, not shod.” The headline simply said the Indians were “near starvation.” The report says the wagons can carry only 1,000 pounds each on a five-week round trip, and yet it is necessary to move a half million pounds of supplies. One thus imagines 6,000 Indians starving and thus driven to desperation. An unnamed military officer based in Yankton is quoted as saying the natives will surely be on the warpath in Spring if not before. The article concludes “Everyone is crying mismanagement, and cursing the Indian Bureau.” This is no laughing matter. It was only recently discovered that Dull Knife had somehow been able to hide 100 Springfield carbines stolen from the dead heroes of the Custer massacre. How the Army missed 100 weapons in the hands of the savages is even less of a laughing matter. Speaking of Indians going on warpath is something very real to us out here in the future America that’s still pretty rough isolated territory. However, as you can already tell, this stuff in the Times was nonsense. Clearly the Yankton officer was seeking to put a dagger into the Indian Agency, and he did well. He found someone at the New Y ork Times whose only experience with Indians was probably seeing a white man playing one in a Buffalo Bill show. In fact, the paper reported soon after in a correction, the report was “sensational.” The Indians have 156 wagons, drawn by 400 horses and 112 yoke of ox. At the time of the report, 97 wagons had arrived from the Missouri River with plenty of supplies. There are meantime efforts to create a warehouse in Sidney, Neb., at which to store some of the items and get them closer. There are more than 5 million pounds of beef at or near the Indian agencies. Somehow, we don’t see the Indians starving anytime in the next week or so even if they overboil some of the beef. It is difficult to blame the Eastern press for being befuddled. We all read constant reports of mismanagement and corruption with shifting numbers and blame. The latest in what will be a series of approximately 5 million government reports says in fact the Indians of Dakota Territory and Wyoming got $3,000 worth of supplies MORE than they were supposed to. The report notes that the Indians were not being defrauded; instead, there was a reasonable explanation for reports of shortage. Managers were very properly withholding food to force the Indians to work. If a Brave wants his coffee and biscuits, he can work for it like the rest of us. So let’s see what happened here. The military failed to notice the Indians had 100 carbines from our slain cavalry in the hands of the Indians. Those guns could have been used to held us at gunpoint while our women were Outraged. But that was not the headline in the Times. No, the headline was of the Army insulting the Indian Bureau by making up nonsense. So the Indian Bureau was blamed by someone within the Army for something it did not do. No one on the East seems to care that the Army missed weapons. Score one for the unnamed military officer, and score nothing for wisdom.

Editor and Publisher Neil Streeter Reporter Addison Leigh Contributing Writer D. A. Kuhr Typesetter S. Morigi

as though it were coffee or tea. Why, we nearly had a riot on our hands due to the lack of liqour. I would ask what, if anything, the Town Council and the merchants of our community have done to provide for the time when foodstuffs and liqours become scarce? Editor, Daniel C. Stroud, Once again. winter is upon us. and the Deadwood snow is coming down fast and hard. Soon we will be snowed in and will not be able (( T submit your letters o to get needed supplies, which brings me to the reason for my missive to you. During to the editor, send a noteour last winter, food was in short supply, card to Poohneil Streeter or though with a bit of scrimping we got by. email deadwoodfreepress@ We also ran out of good quality alcohol. )) While I imbibe on rare occasions, the miners and some others of the lower classes of our society take strong drink

Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 27

December 13, 1878

Winter BloWs in neW immigrants
Residents of Deadwood showed their creativity, fortitude and fun ata snowman building contest sponsored by Justice Rod Eun at the Number 10 Saloon. As soon as they took shape, Deadwood’s newest residents took up acting like oldtimers; Drinking, killing and carousing with the toughest of Deadwood’s hardened criminals.


Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 27

December 13, 1878

Town Council: Women Shall Vote, Goats OK
Thanks to the absence of proponent Daniel Densmith, the Deadwood Town Council was able to unanimouslyvote down a plan to ask citizens if women should vote. “I still feel it’s a waste of the town’s time and energy to have a town wide vote on it,” said Dr. Morri Devon. “The people trust us to vote on issues for them.” “Aye, that’s why we’re here,” said the newest Councilman, who was sworn in at the meeting, banker Blayne Bluebird. Citizens of the town also agreed. “I think, personally, with there bein’ a Lady on the Council, it would be right silly not to give women the right to make their own decisions, and it’d be a little contradictin’ I think,” said Miss Agatha Udimo. After the meeting, Densmith was contacted and said he no longer much cared about his proposal about the vote, and that he appreciated the council’s time. He then said he had business, and excused himself further from the discussion. In other business: - The council welcomed two new residents to town, Jonny and Jane Lately. We were not able to obtain pictures. - The council did approve a hall of records and a courthouse attached to the town hall at a cost of $3,500. Mayor Clay Kungler said, “What that would entail would be both facilities to have trials and keep records of marriages, criminal records, births and of course deaths. - Dr. Devon reported that it is her hope three doctor will be available to serve the community when she is convalescing after giving birth this month. The hospital is located in a two-story building at the far end of Lee Street. - The council voted to put up a sign saying no one should store dead bodies anymore in the ice house like they did last year. Mayor Kungler noted this should not be necessary because we now have a thriving undertaker. It will thus be posted. “I suggest a padlock,” said Councilman Bluebird suggests a padlock. “A padlock would prevent all who use it for meat and other storage from getting to its contents,” commented Kungler. - The council heard a request from Councilwoman Coodnank Thibedeau, who works at the hotel, to allow Miss Cookie, co-owner of the hotel, to take her goat into any business. “Miz Cookie, she gots dis heah new goat an it be lak her, um company un it be a watchin out fer her an stuff. It be a good goat all nice an mannerly, an report to me raht regular. But see, dere be a bit ob trouble in de town wif it an ah doan thank dat be raht. Ah thank ennybody whut need a company un wif em oughta be allowed it for de better health and well bein ob de whole town,” Councilwoman Thibedeau stated. At least, we think she said that. Surely she said something like it. “Well, I certainly think some of our residents are as clean as goats so I see no issues,” said Kungler. But not all agreed. “And should we let hourses in the saloon?” said Councilman Bluebird. Miss Thibedeau strongly remonstrated at the comparison. “Ah ain’t axin fer no HORSE peepeye. Jus one lil ole company un goat,” she said. There was no vote, but Kungler said, “I am sure we won’t have a problem.” “Y kin issue a license or sumfin fer o de goat? Ah would HATE fer dere to be

miss Udimo introdUces herself
Part of an occasional series of articles from new residents. Hello, I’m new to your small Mining Town, and while I grew up in a vastly different place, I feel, no matter who we are, or what type of family we come from. Human beings can generally relate on a similar level. My thoughts today are muddles, and I’m not too sure where to start. I wanted to write the town (That’s you) about life, not about living by any means. But about the actual thing, that life is. Being alive. I grew up in a very strict Catholic Family, one of honour and of money. To me, it did not seem as if my Mother, Father, or my sister lived by the Bible. It was more as if they lived by the Bible, when it suited them. Personally, due to this way of life that my family and I lived, I found I did not want to believe in God, after all, why would I want to worship a being that prides himself on his Wallet and Belonging’s. My main issue is, whether we were ready Of course, I know that’s not the case to understand life, to truly appreciate it. now, I know the story of God, of how he Should God have shown us how valucreated us, gave us life, and trusted us with able Life was? How important Life is to have? Should he have told Adam and Eve exactly what could happen if they weren’t to look after one another, make the right choices, thus living a better, healthier, richer life? I know that no one told me how important Life was, or is. No one told me, because they expected I should live like them, pretending I was better because I came from money, living in fear that people would judge me if I didn’t act like I was from money. Because of that, I rebelled, and I made bad decisions, I did things I shouldn’t have done, and it cost a life, my child’s life. All because I made one bad decision, because I didn’t know how important Life was. I hope I’ve left you with something to ponder over. it all by ourselves. I’m not sure if I believe By Agatha Udimo though, and by no means do I disrespect anyone who does.

Bella Union Theater Showcases Taming of the Shrew
pleasant singing voice, as he warmed up the audience with a song. Elisabeth played her part very well, looking truly a sight when she first appeared on stage. Quite If I had to some this performance up in a strong woman she is, for she lifted her one sentence, it would be, “The cow stole the show.” The actors did a fine job, even Dr. Morpork, who played Baptista, Katherine’s father, did reasonably well. Some of his lines were a bit slu r re d, but really, who is shocked to hear that? Planter has a Starring: Planter Leitner as Petruchio Elisabeth Leitner as Katharine Herman Morpork as Baptista husband over her shoulder at one point! Alas, working with children and animals, one is guaranteed a mishap of some sort, and this production was no exception. Perhaps the Leitners will leave live animals out of their next show, and I must say, The Bella smelled just fine last time I was in playing Faro. All-in-all, I would recommend for all to attend the next p e r fo r m a n c e the Leitner’s have. By Mrs. Echo DevonTorkelsonn

trouble.” Miss Thibedeau pursued. “I’ll write it a note. I’ll make it a deputy in fact,” Kungler commented.

The Darjeeling Teahouse has opened on Main, offering sweet and solid treats as well as multiple fine teas. This young couple was among many spotted there.

Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 27

December 13, 1878

the trUth aBoUt gUnfighters
The recent sentencing of the notorious gunslinger John Wesley Hardin on Oct. 3 1878, to 25 years in prison for the killing of a deputy has encouraged some of us to reflect upon the difference between the reality of gunfighters and and gunfighting, as opposed to the romanticized view of it promulgated in the dime novels and stage plays. First off, the simple fact is that very few gunfighters, either lawmen or outlaws, have killed the actual numbers of individuals that are credited to them in popular press and lore. For example, our friend Wild Bill Hickok, while an estimable gentleman, and dedicated lawman, did not kill anywhere near the 100 men he supposedly dispatched. In fact, serious scholars of the way of the gun estimate that the actual number of white men he killed to be closer to about 10. Hardin may be one of the few exceptions to this rule, being an extremely nasty piece of work who kills without remorse, and often without much reason. He has quite probably killed something in the range of 40 men, including negro peace officers in the Indian territory, soldiers, and lawmen in various locations. He is very quick with his guns and a good shot. However, he rarely takes on his opponent in a straightup sort of way, being more inclined to shoot men in the back or from ambush in most cases. Wild Bill, on the other hand, stands out as an actual example of one of the few gunfighters to ever have actually stood up against a foe in the classic, face-toface duel in the street that is so beloved of authors and playwrights. In 1865, in Springfield Missouri, Hickok did in fact stand up against a gent named Dave Tutt in this manner. In other words, the fellow who makes his prietor Miss Sal to proceed him down the gun clear leather faster is not necessarily second floor hallway toward the front of the building. Y our humble correspondent, going to be the winner. having procured a shotgun from Miss Sal’s The simple fact of the matter is, most room, waited around the corner at the end shootings are done by surprise or from of the hall. Once they appeared in the ambush. It is simply the reality that get- open area by the piano, your correspondent ting the drop on your opponent makes a simply waited until Miss Sal was shielded hell of a lot more sense than dueling like a (mostly) by the piano, and Mr. Verwood They faced each other at about 75 yards, couple of old-time fancy-pants New Orleans was exposed in the gap between the end of and both drew. The truth of the matter dandies who insulted each other’s honor or the hallway wall and the piano. was that Tutt actually drew faster, and got some nonsense like that. A good example off four shots before Hickok fired once. Tutt, however, was nervous and hurried in his shooting, and all four shots were misses. Hickok carefully aimed his 1860 Army Colt in a two-handed grip and dropped his opponent with one well-aimed shot. of course is the killing a few years of Mr. Hickok, in which a cowardly assassin did shoot him in the back of the head while he played cards. In recent activity, one might point to the recent example in which Joe Verwood and his confederate attempted to rob the Bella. As Verwood forced the proThe guns seems to have been loaded with a large form of birdshot, rather than heavy double aught buckshot, in order to minimize collateral damage when fired indoors. When the gun was discharged, a portion of the loads from both barrels hit home, and Verwood was sufficiently wounded so that after jumping (or perhaps falling) from the Bella’s second floor porch, it was relatively simple for Sheriff Devon to apprehend the wounded man. it was a calculated risk, but Miss Sal was nicked by only one pellet. Her Piano, however, is now somewhat badly out of tune. Speaking of shotguns, for close-range work, there is nothing that beats a good scatter gun. Y our common 12-gauge shot shell will hold approximately 9 pellets of 00 (or “double aught”) buckshot, each of which is about the size of a .32 ball. And as with most double-barreled shotguns you can fire both barrels virtually simultaneously, that means you will be sending the equivalent of eighteen .32 rounds down range at your opponent. Y there are disadvantages to a shotes. gun - the shot spreads as it goes down range, so it will of course be ineffective for distance work, unless loaded with slugs rather than shot. But then there is the issue that you must reload after having expended but two shots. This is why a gunfighter who works with a shotgun will certainly carry other arms as well. Nonetheless the efficacy of the shotgun in close quarters is undisputed. When a reporter from some New Y ork newspaper asked a New Mexico lawman why he carried a shotgun along with a Winchester 44-40 and a Colt .44 revolver on his manhunts, the man’s eyes narrowed in contempt and sharply replied: “To kill men with, you damned fool!” By D. A. Kuhr

The Deadwood Shooting Society
We are pleased to announce the successful formation of the Deadwood Shooting Society, a loose confederation of shooters of all genders, ages, and levels of skills. We are united in a commitment to enjoying the pleasures of developing and demonstrating our skills at marksmanship with a variety of weapons and in a variety of circumstances. Two meetings have been held so far, with prizes (and drinks afterwards) provided courtesy of the Grand Central Hotel and Albion Importers. Any individual who considers themselves a member in good standing of this group may obtain a plaque suitable for hanging upon one’s wall, from the Mr. Rod Eun’s store next to the Saloon No. 10. This plaque is available at no charge, courtesy of Mr. Eun. Following the last shooting session in which long distance targets were engaged -- with some remarkable results -- it was determined that the club shall in fact have no elected officers, no dues, and no rules and regulations, other than one which suggests that feckless idiots are not welcome to participate ... unless, of course, they happen to be feckless idiots who we happen to like. Contact Mrs. Kuhr at the Grand Central Hotel in order to be put on the list of people who will be notified about club events. By D. A. Kuhr

Town Councilman and capitalist Daniel Densmith was the winner of a tightly drawn poker night hosted by Mayor Kungler and the Gem at which several tables of contestants tested both their wiles and luck. It all came down to one final hand, so tight was the final contest with Judge Rod Eun. Both men and the room emerged as friends, and Mr. Densmith treated to drinks after.


Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 27

December 13, 1878

story night at the Bella: mUch Variety
It was story night recently at the Bella Union. Here are some of the tales told, and songs sung. Some are very fine, but omitted for reasons of space.

The tale told by Mrs. D. A. Kuhr
“Back in the day when Papaw an m’ great uncle Ezra was goin’ across the big muddy to trade with the Injuns an trap beaver an fox fer the pelts, they had made camp in this lovely lil’ valley. Mos beeyootifull place ye ever saw an they thought they was in heaven: Crystal clear stream. Bushes with lots o berries en tho twas late summer “An they settled in made a lean to, built a fire an was fixin up some grub an some coffee when they found out they warn’t the only ones who thought the spot was heaven. Seems a big ol she grizzly was right fond of it too. “An she come out o’ the bushes snufflin’ at the scent o’ their grub a’ cookin,’ an she stands up on her hind legs, an before they could grab they rifles she had rushed upon Papaw an grabbed him in a big ol bar hug an was gonna skoosh him. “Well he was a’wrasslin’ back. but it warn’ doin no good, an ol’ Ezra did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed up that boilin’ hot kettle o’ coffee an tossed the steamin’ liquid into the bear’s face. “Got some on papa’s head, too. but ye cain’t make a cake without breakin’ some eggs. “Well, he hoped that would startle the critter, make her drop Papaw, an lo an behold it sure nuff did. Thing dropped him an he scramble right fer the crik as quick as he could. “But ye know what else happens when ye toss boilin hot joe in a bear’s face? “It really really really really pisses em off. That ol she-grizz roars like a monster an takes off chasin poor Ezra. An great uncle Ez, bein the wise woodsman that he is, runs like hell. That brar chased him across the crik, up the one side o’ the valley, down the other, an they kep a runnin until they was nearly back in white folks country/ An Great Uncle Ezra sees this ol abandonned settlers cabin up ahead. He puts on one last burst o foot power, an gets inside an shuts the door just as the grizz is fixin to chomp him onthe buttocks. He bars the door an settles in. Gonna out wait the bear. “...And the bear sets down outside, gonna try to outwait HIM. So Ez is inside the cabin. The bear is outside. An they wait. An wait. An wait. “The leaves fall... “Snow comes... “An long about Christmas time, they’s both gettin tired o this nonsense. Ez is gettin lonley. The bar is too tired an hungry to be pissed off anymore. An with the

winter settin’ in they was both stuck there. So Ez eventually invited it in an they kinda took to a new sort o relationship. “Matter o fact Great Uncle Ezra claimed that come spring him an the she-grizzly got hitched “But I gotta tell you, I ain’t sure he’s bein completely honest about the story. ‘Tween you an me, I think he done exagerated a tad. “’Tis my absolute belief he neve married no grizz “Nope. I think they was jus shackin up together.

Mr. Clay Kungler then sang the famous ((RL)) Civil War hymn, “Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!”
“And and no it’s not about anyone specific,” he added helpfully. “In the prison cell I sit, thinking Mother, dear, of you, And our bright and happy home so far away, And the tears, they fill my eyes ‘spite of all that I can do, But before we reached their lines, they Tho’ I try to cheer my comrades and were beaten back dismayed, be gay. And we heard the cry of vict’ry o’er and “Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are o’er. marching, Cheer up, comrades, they will come, “So within the prison cell we are waiting And beneath the starry flag we shall for the day That shall come to open wide the iron breathe the air again Of the free land in our own beloved door, And the hollow eye grows bright, and home.” the poor heart almost gay, As we think of seeing home and friends “In the battle front we stood, when their once more.” fiercest charge they made, And they swept us off a hundred men “Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are or more, marching, Cheer up, comrades, they will come, And beneath the starry flag we shall breathe the air again Of the free land in our own beloved home.”

your business. Some men talk ‘cause they got somethin’ to say. Others talk ‘cause they got to say somethin’. If your horse doesn’t want to go there, neither do you... or When in doubt, let your horse figure it out. There are more horses asses, than horses. A halo only needs to drop a few inches to become a noose. No tree is too big for a short dog to lift his leg on. Don’t wear woolly chaps in sheep country during the breeding season. There’s two theories to arguin’ with a woman. Neither one works... And last, but not least... A word to the wise... is unnecessary.

Judge Rod Eun did not have a song or poem or story, but he had something far more lethal: one-liners

“Tom of Bedlam” ((an early song about madness)) was sung by Dr. Morri Devon.
To find my Tom of Bedlam Ten thousand years I travel Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes To save me shoes from gravel

The quickest way to double your money is to fold it over and put it back in your Still I sing bonny boys, bonny mad pocket. boys, Bedlam boys are bonny. Never take to sawin’ on the branch that’s for they all go bare and they live by the supportin’ you, unless you’re bein’ hung air, from it. and they want no drink nor money. Never follow good whiskey with water, unless you’re out of good whiskey. I now repent that ever If drinking hurts your business, quit

Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 27

December 13, 1878

more fUn, and finally, tears
Poor Tom was so disdain-ed. My wits are tossed and semi-crossed Which makes me thus go chain-ed. I went to Pluto’s kitchen, to beg some food one morning. There I got souls spiking hot, while on the spit a-turning. There I took up a caldron, where I boiled ten thousand harlots. Though still a-flame I drank the same, with a health to all such varlets. Me staff has murdered giants, me bag a long knife carries, to cut mince pies from children’s thighs, with which to feed the faeries. No gypsy, slut, or doxie, shall win me mad Tom from me. I’ll weep all night with the stars I’ll fight, the fray shall well become me. So drink to Tom of Bedlam, fill all the seas and barrels. I’ll drink it all well brewed with gall, and maudlin drunk I’ll quarrel. In coral tint thine eyelids glow, And weep the setting suns below, Y still the tear of sorrow stops, et And stands congeal’d in amber drops. Fly, shepherds, or your hour is come; If fails her face to seal your doom, Like amhush’d foes, her potent breath Inflicts inevitable death. I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm summer night, when two thousand men are sleeping around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of death -- and I, suspicious that Death is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee. I have sought most closely and diligently, and often in my breast, for a wrong motive in thus hazarding the happiness of those I loved and I could not find one. A pure love of my country and of the principles have often advocated before the people and “the name of honor that I love more than I fear death” have called upon me, and I have obeyed. Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my love of Country comes over me Divine Providence, but something whispers like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly to me - perhaps it is the wafted prayer of on with all these chains to the battlefield. my little Edgar -- that I shall return to my loved ones unharmed. If I do not, my dear The memories of the blissful moments Sarah, never forget how much I love you, I have spent with you come creeping over and when my last breath escapes me on the me, and I feel most gratified to God and to battlefield, it will whisper your name. Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless and foolish I have oftentimes been! How gladly would I wash out with my tears every little spot upon your happiness, and struggle with all the misfortune of this world, to shield you and my children from harm. But I cannot. I must watch you from the spirit land and hover near you, while you buffet the storms with your precious little freight, and wait with sad patience till we meet to part no more. But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the garish day and in the darkest night -- amidst your happiest scenes and gloomiest hours - always, always; and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath; or the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah, do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again. As for my little boys, they will grow as I have done, and never know a father’s love and care. Little Willie is too young to remember me long, and my blue eyed Edgar will keep my frolics with him among the dimmest memories of his childhood. Sarah, I have unlimited confidence in your maternal care and your development of their characters. Tell my two mothers his and hers I call God’s blessing upon them. O Sarah, I wait for you there! Come to me, and lead thither my children.

Proprietor Miss Salissa Wilder read a famous letter by Sullivan Ballou, written to his wife before he died in the First Battle of Bull Run in 1861, and is a lovely meditation of courage and death.
My very dear Sarah:

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorStill I sing bonny boys, bonny mad row. Lest I should not be able to write you boys, again, I feel impelled to write lines that Bedlam boys are bonny, may fall under your eye when I shall be for they all go bare and they live by the no more. air, and they want no drink nor money. Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure - and it may be one of severe conflict and death to me. Not my will, but thine 0 God, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the battlefield for my country, I am ready. I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in, the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know That charming face I love to view, how strongly American It emulates the cowslip’s hue : Civilization now leans Thy neck, thy hands, thy arms disclose upon the triumph of the The colour of the Sharon rose. Government, and how great a debt we owe to Thy lips the swarthy Ethiop’s shame those who went before us (Their dear delightful form the same); through the blood and But oh ! a deeper dye they boast, suffering of the RevoluIn mourning for the teeth thou’st lost. tion. And I am willing - perfectly willing - to Thy chin, firm guardian of thy mouth, lay down all my joys in Dame Nature stinted in its growth ; this life, to help maintain It yet a thousand arrows bears, this Government, and to Transform’d to bright and golden pay that debt. hairs. But, my dear wife, when I know that with my own joys I lay down nearly all of yours, and replace them in this life with cares and sorrows - when, after having eaten for long years the bitter fruit of orphanage myself, I must offer it as their only sustenance to my dear little children - is it weak or dishonorable, while the banner of my purpose floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded love for you, my darling wife and children, should struggle in fierce, though useless, contest with my love of country?

Thespian Planter Leitner, dressed as Lady Clara Snootuphernose, presented a poem, The Spinster.

you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our sons grow up to honorable manhood around us. I have, I know, but few and small claims upon