Deadwood Free Press Vol.

2 Issue 26 November 13, 1878

Vol. 2 Issue 26 November 13, 1878

Fire Leaves Despair, Death, Destruction

Orphanage fire claims former council member, five orphans
Fire brought tragedy to Deadwood as it
swept through the Jeni Trefusis Memorial
Orphanage and claimed the life of former
teacher and town council member Mar-
rant Vita as well as five small orphans.
The lady was found clutching one of the
orphans, clearly trying to save its life and
yet dying in the attempt.
All at the scene were moved to tears,
even your newspaper photographer who
conducted interviews and took pictures and
collected memorabilia, who was crying on
the inside.
The fire was believed caused by a fallen
lantern, though investigation is ongoing.
Certainly there must have been fuel associ-
ated with the blaze, for it took off swiftly
and took control even more swiftly. No foul
play is suspected.
The fire was discovered as people were
returning from a Halloween gathering at
the pass, most specifically by Sheriff Glen
and Dr. Morri Devon.
They desperately hurled water at the
building, but the fire was relentless.
Many people in town were either fast
asleep or still at the pass. Those bravely
and gamely hurling water at the fire beast
included the Devons, Judge Rod Eun,
Deacon Dryke, and a young woman, Miss
Violet, and a young man.
There could have been other casualties, Efforts to revive Miss Vita were not suc- “It’s a damn massacre up here,” the family to tragedy a few Christmases ago.
but were not. Sheriff Glen was overcome cessful, despite the pleading cries of her despondent judge stated as he wrapped “Why does everyone die on a holiday?”
by heat and smoke, but able to return to the niece, Miss Elizabeth, a child. “She took the slain in blankets. she asked sadly, loudly wishing she’d been
fight. The young man was badly burned in too much smoke.. and got too many All died and were carried from the build- home instead of at the pass.
when flames caught on his shirt, and he burns..... poor Marrant,” said a choked- ing to great tears by all present. While as we say, no foul play is yet sus-
recovered through in great pain; mean- up Judge Eun. Thankfully, Miss Vita’s young niece pected, if anyone saw someone dressed
while, it was briefly feared Dr. Devon It was also the judge who found four Miss Elizabeth was at the pass at the time like Santa Claus around the orphanage
might deliver of child in the commotion. orphans in their beds; a fifth was held of the incident, and unhurt; she is cared for but before the fire is asked to contact Mr.
In other words, this was a scene of vast by Miss Vita: Chastity, Charity, Felicity, in the home of Mr. and Mrs. Streeter. Streeter at the newspaper for investiga-
chaos and tragedy. Prosperity and Tranquility. The young lady had lost her original tion.

Hundreds of Citizens Mourn Brave Woman, Babes

“She had her moments ... but as far as we know she never actually got around
to successfully killin’ anyone.”
Hundreds of Deadwoo d residents
marched in procession behind the bodies
of the slain orphanage mistress Marrant
Vita and the five children killed in the fire.
All were laid to rest at Mt. Moriah in a
mixed climate: for while tears fell like rain,
shining on those tears was the sunshine of
our promised Resurrection.
Mourners wept for the babes, whose lives
had barely begun, but also for Miss Vita,
who was a well-known figure in town and
an early settler.
“Marrant and I came to town about the
same time two years ago. She was teacher
here a long time, and after she was done
doing that she looked around and saw a
need, taking on the orphanage when few
others would,” stated the first of many
speakers to pay Miss Vita tribute, Mrs.
Addison Streeter.
“I can’t think of a better person to look
after these babies wherever they have gone.
I know she will be happy where she is, but
I wish she was here. I wish all of them
were.”
Mrs. Diogenes Kuhr stated, “Marrant
God bless her, was was sorta like a good
example of what we all here are: beset with
weaknesses, but all in all, Marrant was
good people. I never known a gal who had
such a high ideal o’ what romance an’ love
could be...an’ she had her moments ... but
as far as we know she never actually got
around to successfully killin anyone.”
“An’ then in spite o’ all her weaknesses,
an choices what warn’t so good, she din’t
Continued on page 3

1
Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 26
Letters to the Editor
Editor,
You foul son of a bitch. Marrant Vita
was not cold before you started announc-
ing you would do a book about her of pho-
tographs you stole from the second floor
of the orphanage. And you have bragged
how you will write a book about her being
a prostitute, which she surely was not. She
may never have even been with a man,
and you are prostituting her memory by
making a prostitute of her.
Friend Remembers Deceased
I will always treasure Marrant Vita in
my heart as not only my first friend in
Deadwood, but a true golden person that
the world now is robbed of.
I remember how innocent she was when
I first met her. How much it made me
laugh when she would try to impress the
men, and would walk about in her cute
little sweaters she wore.
She wasn’t a mother that I know of, but
she would have been a perfect mother ...
and, well, sometimes I even wished she was
my mother. She loved the kids and was so
patient with them.
We were fast friends, but our lives prob-
ably never should have crossed. She was
shy and sweet, and I was loud and bitter.
A make shift orphanage has been set up on the second floor of the
Town Hall until the orphanage on Main Street can be cleaned and
reopened. Shown is Miss Jemima and son Earl sitting in the kitchenette
area. Behind the curtains are beds for eight to ten children, divided into
a boys’ and girls’ side.
Editor and Publisher
Neil Streeter
Reporter
Addison Leigh
Contributing Writer
D. A. Kuhr
Typesetter
S. Morigi
2
You are a foul, disgusting, heathen son
of a bitch who would sell his own children
for a glass of whiskey, and I hope you rot
in Hell.
A Concerned Reader
Deadwood
Mrs M, I thought you would get a laugh
out of this, but of course, Jesus Christ, don’t
typeset it. Not that you would hahahahaha
- Neil
She would sew pockets into my dresses
and tell me all about her day. I loved every
minute of it. She would bake cakes and tell
me about the cute men she would see walk-
ing down the street. She had good taste,
I have to admit.
I wish I could go into every memory I
have with her, but she probably might come
back from the dead and shoot me for tell-
ing her innermost thoughts.
I will just say this. Marrant, you were a
beautiful person, and I hope the afterlife
gives you what you couldn’t obtain in this
life. You will forever be in my heart.
Goodbye old friend.
By Taj Nishi, Bella Union
Editorial
Let’s Treat the
Indians Properly
I draw your attention to today’s story
((from the Real Life New York Times))
about Mr. Livingston and his wanton
misuse of taxpayer dollars in terms of the
Crow Creek Indian Agency.
We’ve all passed along Crow Creek to
and from Fort Pierre, so of course we all
know Mr. Livingston. How many of us
have benefited from the fine free foods he’s
given us? I know I have.
We are thus dismayed to hear that the
authorities, for political reasons, are pursu-
ing him for allegations of corruption.
It is alleged that only a fraction of the
$170,000 spent on Indians since 1870 actu-
ally reached them. It is alleged that Liv-
ingston forged documents for his own ben-
efit, failing to give Indians their due and
selling items for his own personal gain.
Read the story, and you will see all sorts
of things that look bad in print, and even
worse when exaggerated by the extra noise
created by being published in an authorita-
tive Eastern newspaper.
Clearly, the inspectors from Washington
have a very idealized view of life if they
think someone working for the govern-
ment has to play only by the rules. It’s well
November 13, 1878
known that government does not provide
enough for the Indians. It is our opinion
that Mr. Livingston was at least partly
leveraging what the government did send
to benefit not only the Indians but every-
one.
It is through Mr. Livington’s good graces
that Indian children are being taught how
to be Americans and to leave savage ways
behind. If he, in his best judgment, chose
to take some US dollars and apply them
for the benefit of the local economy, that’s
a good thing.
It’s fair to say that many of our business-
people have benefited from buying things
from him that they would have otherwise
had to pay higher prices for. The fact that
Indians provide virtually free labor helps
hold down prices. We all benefit from
that. Has anyone failed to buy something
because they fear the price is too low?
We hope Mr. Livingston received a fair
investigation and trial based on what he
actually did for the Indians, not whether
he bothered to follow each and every rule
for every law. There is a higher law to be
respected.
Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 26
Hundreds of Citizens Mourn... continued
Continued from page 1
give in to that, an say “that’s all I kin be..I
cain’t be no more than that.” She rose up
an’ took on good works, makin the lost an
discarded chillun her own famly. Probably
was a better family than most o’ ‘em would
had even if’n they hadn’t been tossed aside
by the world. I’m a thinkin we kin learn a
bit from how Marrant lived her life an how
she died well,” Mrs. Kuhr said.
Miss Jem, the Deadwood Snow Queen
formerly of the Gem and now of the
orphanage, praised her former employer:
“Ah jes’ wants to says, it warn’t jes chillens
she taked in. She done taked me in when
ah hads no place ta go. An gib me a job
which ah preciate. An she done took in
coloreds an celestials an’ .. well she done
right, dat all.”
Of course the saddest reflections were
from the slain lady’s niece, Miss Eliza-
beth.
“I just... want to say..... I sorry I said
I hate you, Aunt Marrant... I don’t, I just
... like wearin’ black.. an... I sorry I said
babies smell. Well, they do, but it isn’t so
bad if you changes them
An’... if I got to have 9 babies like the
fortune teller said, I will. An’ thank you for
taking me in when nobody else would.”
The Rev. Baird Bravin constantly
reminded the mourners that Miss Vita and
the babies were cradled together and with
God, and reunited with all their families.
“They have shed this burdening,
unwieldy clay, and now live nursed by their
mothers and fathers and all of the angels.
As the Rev. Lewis preached in a famous
Stowmarket sermon, “It is this thought that
makes all life so wondrous; that maketh
the life of each little child a marvel; be it,
that it breathe but for a moment; still that
life, lost so soon to earth, ceases never in
eternity.”
The Reverend continued, “Each of these
babies and this sainted woman are lovely
ripples in a pond, but unlike ripples on
earth, their lives shall go on forever in
God’s Home. ... Hear the happy sounds of
this woman and these babies being reunit-
ed with their loved ones in Heaven. Listen
to them speak ... They watch us from the
Above to see if you will listen. They wait
to see if you will do them honor with your
lives. Miss Vita and the little babies look
from above and want to see what your lives
and your actions say.
“Don’t let them down. Live life in
November 13, 1878
memory of their Christlike innocence and
love. Speak to them with your lives.”
Music was provided through the voices of
Clay Kungler, Miss Echo Devon and Dr.
Devon. The concluding song was sung by
Mrs. Diogenes Kuhr, and is perhaps as
good a place as any to leave this sad tale.
Sleep, baby, sleep, No longer weep; Near
thee sits thy little brother, Close beside thee
is thy mother, Sleep, baby, sleep.
Sleep, baby, sleep, No longer weep; Israel’s
Shepherd watches o’er thee, No rude danger
lies before thee: Sleep, baby, sleep.
Sleep, baby, sleep, No longer weep; Germ
of beauty, bud and blossom, Rest upon thy
Savior’s bosom: Sleep, baby, sleep.
Sleep, baby, sleep, No longer weep, Life
has many a raging billows Rest upon thy
downy pillow: Sleep, baby, sleep.
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Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 26
Ministers appeared to be Serving
Greed, Not God
Two men arrested for robbery
Two men, giving the appearance of cler-
ics, were arrested last Sunday night in con-
nection with a robbery at the Bella Union
Saloon a few hours earlier.
Gamblers at the Bella Union describe
two men: one tall and well-dressed, the
other short and squalid in appearance.
They were hovering in and out of the
front entrance of the Bella Union Saloon
on Sunday afternoon. Both appeared to
leave the vicinity, then reappear within
Commemorative Book Sale Announced:
Proceeds of Vita, Trefusis book to benefit Orphans
Editor Neil Streeter has announced a
substantial though unannounced percent-
age of sales from the book “The Soiled
Doves of Deadwood” will be donated to
The John Tanner Fund for Orphans and
Disadvantaged Young Women of Home-
stake Mining Co. in memory of slain
orphanage mistress and former town
council member Marrant Vita.
Vita died in the Jeni Trefusis Orphanage
fire which also claimed the lives of five
baby orphans.
Streeter said he had already been work-
ing with Vita on a book about the visions
that she and Miss Trefusis had shared of
Mary Magdalene, the Heavenly former
Soiled Dove who was close, very close, to
Jesus. The book is being updated because
of Miss Vita’s death and is expected to
be offered for sale in time for Christmas
giving.
4
November 13, 1878
moments, attempting to cover
their identity with masks.
The shorter and dirtier of the
two pounced upon employee
Aunty Jem, held a gun to her head
and demanded valuables from the
assembled patrons. The taller of
the two ran upstairs, collected a
large sum of money from the safe
box and ran out the door with
partner and hostage.
A couple hours
later, peace was
distu rb e d by
shouts of anger
on Main Street
as two battered
men, dressed as
clerics were heard
to threaten a local
gaming dealer,
demanding the return of combination of blood loss, ignorance, and ries and is aiding local deputies in their
property. Oddly enough, potent pain pills donated to the clerics for search for the guilty.
b oth clerics dropped “relief of the poor” by Deadwood Doctor Both “clerics” proclaim their innocence
insensible to the dust Morri Devon. and the money has not been recovered.
before one fist flew or shot One of the two men bore a striking The card dealer, one “Copper,” is wanted
was fired. Help was sum- resemblance to the earlier bank robber. for questioning, but cannot be located.
moned. Both men were Thus, both were arrested by Deputy Trini Anyone with information regarding the
found to have multiple McMillan and are being held in Deadwood whereabouts of him or with any informa-
gun related injuries and jail pending further investigation. Aunty tion about this incident should contact the
were felled it seems, by a Jem has returned to town with minor inju- Sheriff or Deputy at once.
Mr. Streeter previously authored the
Jeni Trefusis Black Rose of Deadwood
Speller, a book that allows for study of
the alphabet, including photographs of
the famous young soiled dove who died a
Christian martyr while ministering to the
poor. Streeter said the book was destined
for children, of course, but also adult learn-
ers. The book is for sale at the newspaper
office on Main, and features several photo-
graphs of the young woman both after her
conversation, and before, she wore highly
inappropriate clothing which is only pic-
tured in the interests of accuracy.
Mr. Streeter stated that the only pho-
tographs found in the orphanage of Miss
Vita are of her in nightdresses and bath-
ing, and so in her memory the new book
will feature several such pictures though of
course in only the highest taste.
It is hoped the new book will be instruc-
tive to young women. An excerpt is printed
herein:
Jeni and Marrant lay there togeth-
er on the hillside, their ripe firm
breasts heaving in the sun from the
exertion. Jeni was the first to roll
over onto her side, and was reaching
for her corset when suddenly her eyes
were blinded by a bright light. Both
women instinctively cowered. best they could, looking down in confusion They did not see, but instead felt, a smile
A woman’s voice as calm as wind on the town of Deadwood, and then up at ... “The only hurt I bring is the challenge
but strong as hurricane spoke to a glow. of a new and better life. Through Jesus you
them, seeming to come from all “I am Mary Magdalene.” can find salvation...”
directions, lovely and lilting “Be not Both women dropped to their knees,
ashamed of thy white thighs, for I which was familiar to them and looked Publication date: Dec. 10. Preorders for
bring you the Word of God.” up in horror. books and reprints of pictures accepted at
Both women covered themselves as “Do not hurt us!” cried Marrant the offices of the Deadwood Free Press.
Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 26 November 13, 1878

News Briefs
((from the RL New
Stupendous Indian Fraud
York Times)) Discoveries Made at Crow Creek Agency
Deadwood, Dakota, Oct. 13 - A shoot-
Sudden Appearance of Commissioner Hayt at the Agency and the
ing affray occurred here this afternoon
between Mrs. Lovell, a notorious woman,
Result: Theft, Perjury, and Every Kind of Fraud by Collusion of the
and John Rogers, an employee in Gregory’s
Restaurant, which resulted in the death
Agent and the Trader.
of the former and the fatal wounding of
the latter. The quarrel was caused by a
Special Dispatch to the ((RL)) New York Times.
dispute in regard to the ownership of cer-
tain ground which has been in question for
some time. Mrs. Lovell assaulted Rogers Fort Thompson, Dakota Terr, via Yank- that besides his large landed interests, he the Indian his own potatoes. The trader’s
in his own house. ton: is a part owner in three silver mines in warehouse was inside of the stockade, and
Commissioner Hayt, from Washington, Nevada. 10 feet from the government warehouse,
Deadwood, Dakota, Oct. 14 - A severe is now visiting the Indian Agencies in this Livingston and his ‘pards’ owned two and the former was stocked from the
fight took place this afternoon at Brigand section. Today he dropped down on the cattle ranches, with the stock, rations, etc. latter.
Camp, 15 miles south of the city, between Crow Creek Agency, and found Inspector regularly supplied from the Crow Creek Of course, all the stolen property was
the Sheriff and posse and two road agents, Hammond’s sealed book ope. and Cheyenne agencies. They were both reported issued to the Indians. Whole
in which one of the latter - Tom Price - was It reveals fraud and robbery to an extent seized by the Government. They conducted bands of Indians had their rations cut off
wounded four times twice fatally, and is unheard of on the Missouri River. a hotel, supplied regularly with beef, milk, a dozen times a year for alleged offenses,
now in the hands of the authorities. Last March, the Crow Creek, Lower and potatoes from the Agency, and forced and the rations were not accounted for to
His companion escaped. The sheriff is Brule and Cheyenne Agencies were all the employees to board there. the government.
still in pursuit, with the prospect of recov- seized by the Military authorities. They used the Agency blacksmith shop There were rations and annuities drawn
ering the treasure taken from the coach A secret investigation into their affairs, and material for their private gains. All for 300 more Indians than there were on
on Sept. 26. which is still incomplete, has developed a their private stock were fed at govern- the agency. The money appropriated by
conspiracy between the agents and traders ment cribs. Livingston sold the agency Congress, during Livingston’s administra-
Deadwood, Dakota, Oct. 29 - “Baldy” that even startles the natives. Dr. Livings- wood to the steamboats and the hay to the tion, for the management of the Agency
Ford, a notorious gambler, last night shot ton, of Crow Creek, was taken without Black Hills wagon trains. Crow Creek is and employment and incidentals, amount-
and instantly killed John Russell, a Texan warning, and his office safe captured a stopping place on the Fort Pierre route ed to $170,000. He stole all he could. His
cattle man, at Sturgis City, 12 miles from before he had time to remove the evidence to Deadwood. employees were all very ignorant men, and
this place. The only cause assigned for the of his wealth and of his guilt. The Indian annuities and rations were any excuse for non-receipt of wages was
murder is that Fort was intoxicated and The mountain of testimony is still piling stolen and sold. Two steamboats of Indian accepted. They were glad to get rations
wanted to kill somebody. Ford is in jail. up against the ring, and Livingston in par- goods for the Lower Brule Agency were and clothing. The false vouchers, and they
ticular, and is simply overwhelming. It unloaded at Crow Creek, under the protest are not yet all discovered, already number
beats all former developments for thiev- of the steamboat captain, who insisted they 150, ranging from $50 to $1,500.
ing, perjury and forgery. The details show belonged to the Brule Agency. One laborer, whose name, Hooker, was
that they stole everything in sight, and The Indians put up large quantities of freely used on fraudulent vouchers, was
prostituted the whole agency machinery hey and wood, and were paid in their own so badly frightened by the Ring that he
to their private use. Feeding and civilizing rations and annuities. The ring would then went into a loft and shot himself through
the Indians was a secondary matter. charge the government for this hay and the heart.
The affidavits, false vouchers, forged wood, get paid for them, and then sell the The instances of perjuries are too numer-
payrolls, and ring letters laid before Com- same hay and wood to the steamboats, ous to mention. Livingston was an Episco-
missioner Hayt prove that Livingston military posts, and bull-whackers, and get palian appointment. He gave fonts and
began his robbery in 1870, when he was paid a second time. The crops raised on the stained glass windows to the chapels.
first appointed. Since then he has accu- reservation were sold, and the proceeds This is only a skeleton of the worst case
mulated a fortune. It is a matter of record not accounted for. The trader would sell of plundering ever made public in the
indian service in the West.

5
Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 26 November 13, 1878

A guide to the Western Horse, Part 3

Now that you know the nomen- coloration--from cross breeding
clature for the different ways that with Arabian and Spanish stock.
different horses look, let’s have a They are large and sturdy, usually
little chat about the most common 16-17 hands high, with a broad chest,
breeds you will find in traveling and short neck, small ears and broad
working in the American West. forehead. They tend to have a wide
girth and slightly shortish legs. The
Percheron is a willing and intelligent
Light Horses worker, easily trained and generally
adaptable to many different climates
and conditions.
The American
One of the types that is most fre-
quently seen in these parts is the
The Belgian
breed that is simply known as the In recent years, America has begun
“American” horse. It is descended importing the Belgian or “Brabant”
from horses brought to the east coast horse, which is slightly lighter in
from Great Britain. They were build than the Percheron, but which
crossed with English Thoroughbreds are still incredibly strong. Gener-
to get a large, good-looking, all- ally darker in coloration, Belgians
purpose animal. American horses are not liked by some horsemen who
are strong, smart, and generally claim they exhibit an “ungainly”
even tempered. They can be read- appearance. Nonetheless, they are
ily taught smooth, pleasant to ride very solidly built and well suited to
gaits, and may be used either for farm work. The Belgian horses also
pulling light vehicles, or as saddle are notable for their unique sense of
horses. They began moving west humor, which is often directed at the
with the pioneers after the Ameri- human owner.
can Revolution, and now are very
common in the West.
The Clydesdale
The American This elegant and distinctive heavy
horse was bred in Scotland in the
Quarter Horse 1700s and brought to this country
initially in the 1840s. They are as
Quarter horses are a type that large as Percherons. but exhibit
was bred to be able to run a quarter a longer, more graceful neck and
mile faster than about any other longer legs. The air of elegance is
beast. They originated as “Ameri- enhanced by the “feathering” on
can Quarter Running horses” bred by The Plantation Walking Heavy Horses their hooves which is usually of a contrast-
English colonists in the 1600s, and when ing color. Coloration in general tends to
they were interbred with Spanish horses, Horse be lighter. The Clydesdale displays a very
they just got stronger and faster. That The Percheron distinctive high step in trotting, which adds
Spanish blood almost helped make them In the late 1700s and early part of this to its appeal as a “fancy” draft animal for
pretty much the best cow horses. Heavily century, settlers in Tennessee and other With increasing size of and use of an urban setting where the owner is trying
muscled and a tad on the compact side, “over the mountain” areas of the south machinery on the American farm, begin- to create an impression.
they are admirably suited to the work of began selectively breeding Narragansett ning in the middle of this century, hus-
rounding up and moving cattle, roping, and Canadian pacers to produce a horse bandmen increasingly have switched fro By D. A. Kuhr
etc.--they are an essential part of the West-that had a smooth gait combined with the use of oxen to heavy horses for draught
ern agricultural economy. incredible stamina. These walking horses purposes. The first heavy breed imported
are comfortable to ride and display a very in significant numbers was the Percheron,
even-tempered disposition. Consequently, which began coming to this country in
The Appaloosa the Plantation has a popularity in the
West as a trail horse, though some riders
1839. Originally bred in France as a war-
horse, it picked up some its most charac-
These strong, fast animals were bred by find they are not too sure-footed in truly teristics--such as the predominance of grey
the Nez Perce indians, who started with rugged mountainous terrain.
Spanish horses in the 1700s and selectively
bred them to get the spotted coats that
are the symbol of this type. They are not
particularly big, but are hardy and can live
The Spanish Horse
off forage that would make a more civilized Descended from the animals ridden
equine flare its nostrils an go on strike. by the conquistadors and still ridden by
Known sometimes as the “palouse” horse, the vaqueros and many Indian tribes, the
they are emblematic of the Nez Perce resis- Spanish horse is small, and deep-bodied,
tance to white encroachment. with a broad forehead nd narrow face,
closely-placed front legs, and a low-set
tail. They have an unusually long stride
The Morgan and tend to have a gentle disposition when
domesticated (many that survive today are
Originating in America in the 1790s, feral, but can be caught and broken). They
this breed is reliable, graceful and heavily make an excellent ranch and riding horse.
muscled on the quarters. They are durable Nonetheless, the type is disappearing as
and tireless, and do well under fire, which American horsemen are tending to mix
is why they were a popular military mount them with other types, such as the Morgan
in the late war. Most commonly, they and the American. It is not clear if they
generally have handsome dark coloration will still be around in a recognizable form
(though lighter shades do show up) and a in the next century, unless perhaps it is
very upright stance that enhances the sense on some of the Indian agencies or in the
that they are intelligent and alert. wild.

6
Deadwood Free Press Vol. 2 Issue 26
Take a Spin on the
Floor Wheel
Deadwood gaming houses may well
wish to consider a fine line of the latest
technology, floor wheel machines import-
ed by Judge Eun as part of an extention
of his Number 10 mercantile exchange.
These games are for those who don’t trust
a human dealer or who may wish to enjoy
the latest technology. Floor machines are
normally found with a large color wheel in
the center of the machine in which you bet
on the color the wheel will stop on.
See previous issues for the perils of this young
heroine and her adventures
The Perilous Journeys of
Mary Sue Sweetlyness
Episode 6
By Miss Adele Leeland
Mary Sue Sweetliness felt odd lying
there, unable to move her head, arms or
legs. In fact, she was not even sure they
still existed.
Was she dead?
Was she a floating spirit above its corpse
waiting for freedom by the side of the river;
her family and friends swallowed up by
nature’s tantrum the night before now
looking for her on the other side of God’s
heavenly gate?
A beatific smile crossed her lips as, in her
mind, she imagined what a vision of serene
immortality she must appear.
“At last, I shall see my beloved,” she
thought, anticipating the moment when
St. Peter himself would descend from lofty
heights, take her hand in his and lead her
up the golden ladder.
Heart fluttering in anticipation, Mary
Sue put her mind in a place of peace lest St.
Peter come upon her with an inappropriate
frown. Quickly she prepared. She found
she had lips and bit them to deep pinkness
and held her breath a few moments – long
enough to blush her milky white cheek.
And lastly, she composed her facial fea-
tures in a pleasing arrangement.
What one should do in such circum-
stance she could not tell. It did not seem
appropriate to call out after all, St. Peter
might have a great many appointments
after such a storm. No, she would pass the
test of patience.
If hours existed on the other side, she
did not know – but they passed. First
one, then another, and then another. The
sun tracked over head and began its slow
decent. Mary Sue came to the end of every
recitation and prayer she knew. It was
dark? How much time had passed now?
Her eyes tracked to the right and the left,
up and down, searching for a landmark
and finding none. A large bird settled near
and let out a startling squawk.
“Uh!” as eyebrows shot up and met in
the middle.
“He is only tardy, she reasoned, and
that is hardly the worst sin,” she muttered,
not entirely believing it as an unpleasant
itch settled upon her nose. “Oh bother!”
she exclaimed, contorting her face - most
would agree she thought, that should ones
nose itch in heaven, one should be provided
mean by which to grant comfort.
At long last, when the last vestiges of
light streaked purple over a blanket of
stars and evening breezes stirred their lazy
finger tips through the soft grasses, low
To be continued...
November 13, 1878
voices began to carry over the wind.
Craning her ears to hear, a call here,
a murmur there, was it singing? Mary
Sue instantly forgave the long wait. How
could she do otherwise in the company of
seraph’s, come to bare her on to her heav-
enly home upon their shoulders? Never
had the sound of manly voices, the rustle
of their feet in the grasses coming nearer
and the soft skitter of stones upon the road
contained so much music.
“Son of a bitch! Charlie, come look
here!.”
“OW!,” Mary Sue cried out, her hair
held fast in the mud, “P-Peter?”
Fer fuck sakes?” spat his shuffling
cohort, “What the hell is she doing?”
The two men knelt down incredulous
shoving the lantern in her face, doubly
attacking the distressed damsel with harsh
lamp light and putrid odor as waves of
putrid gasses emitted from unwashed
crevices and unkempt beards stiff with
dried tobacco juice, burning her eyes and
nasal passages. “She’s worse than a half
dead grasshopper stuck in molasses!”
laughed one man obliviously to the other
as they futilely tried to tear free the skirts,
starched petticoats and flaxen curls, held
fast as cement in the dried mud of the creek
bed.
“Sheet” grinned the man ignoring her
sobs of protest “Only one thing I can think
of to do” he said with a wink, gesturing
towards the pail hanging off his cart.
“Nooo,” Mary Sue screamed, a plaintive
whistle of protest emitting from her very
soul, setting aloft a cacophony of winged
river birds.
“Shad up!” the man yelled back, “Would
ya rather we cut em off Idjit?”
“I bet she were drunk” chuckled the
other as he stood up, scratched a particular
spot on his scalp and went for the bucket.
Strident, heart breaking shrieks filled
the air as pail after pail of friged river
water accuratly shloshed over the target.
“I am in hell!” bubbled Mary Sue through
a mouth full of river water and sand.
Doubled over with laughter, the grimy
strangers once more closed hands upon
her soggy garments, at last ripping her
loose from the river bed, leaving much
of her skirt and a good portion of flaxen
strands rooted in the dried mud like golden
saplings.”
“Not yet, Darlin,” Said the man, laugh-
ing. “Not yet.”