The History of Louisville, from the Earliest Settlement till the Year 1852Casseday, Ben
History
The History of Louisville, from the Earliest Settlement till the Year 1852
Casseday, Ben
Louisville (Ky.) -- Description and travel; Louisville (Ky.) -- History
and sent one of his men in a great hurry to the sheep-owner's house to
tell him that he "had better come down and see what was the matter with
his sheep." Upon coming down hastily in answer to Mike's summons, the
gentleman saw a portion of his flock very singularly affected; leaping,
bleating, rubbing their noses against the ground and against each other,
and performing all manner of undignified and unsheeplike antics. The
gentleman was sorely puzzled and demanded of Mike "if he knew what was the
matter with the sheep."
"You don't know?" answered Mike very gravely.
"I do not," replied the gentleman.
"Did you ever hear of the black murrain?" asked Mike in a confidential
whisper.
"Yes," said the sheep owner in a terrified reply.
"Well, that's it!" said Mike. "All the sheep up river's got it dreadful.
Dyin' like rotten dogs--hundreds a day."
"You don't say so," answered the victim, "and is there no cure for it?"
"Only one as I knows on," was the reply. "You see the murrain's dreadful
catchin', and ef you don't git them away as is got it, they'll kill the
whole flock. Better shoot 'em right-off; they've got to die any way."
"But no man could single out the infected sheep and shoot them from among
the flock," said the gentleman.
"My name's Mike Fink!" was the curt reply.
And it was answer enough. The gentleman begged Mike to shoot the infected
sheep and throw them into the river. This was exactly what Mike wanted,
but he pretended to resist. "It mought be a mistake," he said; "they'll
may be git well. He didn't like to shoot Manny's sheep on his own say so.
He'd better go an' ask some of the neighbors ef it was the murrain sure
'nuf." The gentleman insisted, and Mike modestly resisted, until finally
he was promised a couple of gallons of old Peach Brandy if he would
comply. His scruples thus finally overcome, Mike shot the sheep, threw
them into the eddy and got the brandy. After dark, the men jumped into the
water, hauled the sheep aboard, and by daylight had them neatly packed
away and were gliding merrily down the stream.[5]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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