Memory's Storehouse Unlocked, True Stories: Pioneer Days In Wetmore and Northeast Kansas — John Locke — John Shaqi
Memory's Storehouse Unlocked, True Stories: Pioneer Days In Wetmore and Northeast Kansas
John Locke · en
When the speech-making was getting dangerously close to the
vice-president’s turn, I slipped out. Motivated by strictly personal
interest, Mr. Harvey followed. And though I did, later, get away with
the acknowledged best write-up of the outing, I couldn’t have said one
word in that meeting, with the Pike’s Peak Press Club in attendance,
for all of Cheyenne mountain, with the famous Seven Falls and the gravel
slide thrown in—and THE Girl knew this.
Also, as it turned out, my girl carried off the acknowledged
speech-making honors—following some very fuzzy ones. I never could
understand why relatively smart people would insist on pushing the
ill-equipped fellow out into the open. When the call came Major J. F.
Clough, of the Sabetha Republican, president elect—the old piker had
just delegated another to do his talking—said, “we must hear from the
vice-president; someone please fetch him back in.”
The Major, who, incidentally, in partnership with Theodore J. Wolfley,
established the Wetmore Spectator, in 1882, and therefore was a sort of
godfather to my paper, looked over to where THE Girl was seated, with
Mrs. Hyde and other women including his own daughter, Miss Bay. Then
THE Girl raised her 118 pounds up to her full 5-6 height, in her scuffed
shoes, saying, mirthfully, “He has gone out with Mr. Hyde. You’ll not
see HIM again tonight.”
The applause, started by the ladies—all of whom had scuffed shoes, and
instantly taken up by the men, all of whom had gotten from their women
a neat and not a gentle telling off—was enough to frighten THE Girl. The
shine having already gotten back into her eyes, THE Girl, in associating
me as of the moment with Mr. Harvey, was actually trying to cover up
for me for running out on them. But the inference, nevertheless, pointed
toward Oldtown.
There were some in the party who were not bona fide editors—that had
worked transportation through the newspapers. A Wetmore shoe merchant
had made a deal with a county paper. The outing was a courtesy gesture
of the railroad—principally the Rock Island.