Royal Wedding of Victoria Louise and Ernest Augustus, postcard from One Last Dance
Begin with Chapter One ~ Return to Chapter Forty-Seven
Andrew Stevens, July 1913
“Just hold your horses a minute, Otto,” pleads Sheriff Tobin.
“Hold my horses? Hold my horses?” Mr. K’s head appears poised to explode. “Your men seized 3,600 quarts of beer yesterday.”
“It’s not like we confiscated it from the brewery, Otto,” explains the sheriff. “That was beer you already sold.”
“Probably on account,” grouses Mr. K.
“Otto, you have to understand the pressure I’m under to enforce that damn new law the governor signed.”
John comes to Sheriff Tobin’s defense. “The first week of the 9:30 closing law barely made a dent in our sales, Otto. We’re capping 200,000 bottles of Pearl a day.”
Continue reading “An Ostrich-Plumed Hat: Chapter Forty-Eight”
Above, the intersection of Navarro and East Commerce Streets. John Stevens’ office building is mid-block on the left side of the street.
Begin with Chapter One ~ Return to Chapter Forty-Three
Andrew Stevens, March 1913
“Thought the prophecies of the Book of Revelation were coming true last night!” John hangs his hat and umbrella on the stand just inside the door of Mr. K’s office.
“My best hens,” responds Mr. K, “never laid an egg as large as those hailstones plummeting down from the heavens. Half the slate tiles from my roof lie splintered on the ground. Both greenhouses shattered. All their contents destroyed.”
“Your financial loss must be enormous,” remarks Andy. “I am so sorry, sir.”
“Approximately 5,000 dollars. But my mourning is not monetary. Insurance will replace the roof and the glass. But those rare specimens of orchids I collected and cultivated? Irreplaceable.”
Continue reading “An Ostrich-Plumed Hat: Chapter Forty-Four”
Above, A&M’s Old Main burns, The Battalion
Begin with Chapter One ~ Return to Chapter Twenty-Nine
Former Governor Thomas Mitchell Campbell, July 1912
“‘Tom Campbell’s Man Friday,’” sputters Judge Ramsey. “How dare that good-for-nothing Governor tag that label on me? He expresses wonderment that I claim to be a clean and Christian gentlemen. Then that crook brazenly declares that he has always lived by the golden rule.”
“The golden rule,” snaps Thomas. “Governor Colquitt is ruled by gold. Nothing else but gold flowing directly from brewers’ kegs into his pockets. Nothing will work right in this country until monopolies and trusts take their infernal hands out of the election process. That’s what this election is about. That and education, which the Governor refuses to fund. His veto of the appropriation for the State University leaves students meeting for class in wooden shacks that would require very little huffing and puffing to blow down. First norther should do it.”
Continue reading “An Ostrich-Plumed Hat: Chapter Thirty”