[Sam Davis (?), The Darwinian Devil, San Francisco Call, December 2, 1895]

 

 

THE DARWINIAN DEVIL.

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A Plain Tale From the Foothills.

            The first circus that ever came to Carson, Nev., went to smash on a financial rock and passed into the hands of the Sheriff so as to be able to liquidate the ravenous advertising bills of the local papers.

            It was found difficult to realize money on the moth-eaten menagerie, and the horses and monkeys went over to the editors to square the accounts. As luck would have it, a ring-tailed monkey fell to the lot of the Carson Appeal, and was duly installed as the devil of the office. Journalism in Nevada at that time was not quite on a par with that of The Call, and the animal was found to be a capital night editor as well as a companion for the apprentice, who became quite chummy with the new arrival. It is well that the reader should know what kind of a moral standing the rascal had, and it will therefore be necessary to explain that adjoining the office was a beer saloon known as the "Teamsters' Heaven," where the monkey learned to consume the beer drippings at a nominal cost of a swelled head the following day. His first indulgence was so satisfactory that he made regular trips to the dripping can twice a day, and was the most constantly drunk employe in the office. Promptly at 9 a. m. "Booze" (for that was the name that fitted him best) went to the Teamsters' Heaven and acquired a most delightful jag. By 10 he would reel into the office, and with a drunken leer in his eye lean up against the editor's dusk with all the confidence of his race. In a little while the first effects of the inebriety would wear off, and Booze would be ready to practice the deviltry that was latent in him. His star performance was to cautiously mount the littered desk, and from that station reach up and take down editorials and local news from the copy-hook, which, after inspecting critically, he would proceed to rip up and cast into the wastebasket. This sort of amusement was the programme for the noon hour, and was sure to be indulged in if the office was left alone. The first exhibition of this kind resulted in the destruction of a rare opinion on the Queen's jubilee, after which he gave his attention to a few Government advertising contracts, amounting to some $85. At odd moments he would assault the subscription books and yank out the French and English mail-list, with an occasional swipe at the Eastern subscribers.

            This sport was mere bagatelle for Booze when he was in liquor, and by 2 o'clock in the afternoon he was beyond control. He once came staggering in from the Heaven about 3 o'clock and found a baby-carriage containing a babe nursing a big fat bottle. Booze was a little drunker that day than ever, and at once proceeded to make friends with the youngster. The fond mother happened to be out in the composing-room, and Booze was master of the situation. The presence of the bottle gave him supreme delight, and twisting his tail around the neck of the child he managed to choke him off from a very close association with the food supply. The next instant the monkey had inserted the nipple in his face and was cleaning out the baby's meal at a great rate. In a less space of time than it takes to tell it he had removed the entire contents and had heaved the bottle into the street. He then made a few grimaces at the frightened child, and after slapping him a couple of times for his failure to provide more milk, proceeded to twist his nose and pull his sparse hair. Some very effective howling about that time brought the mother on the scene and Booze fell out on the floor and made for the belting, into which he managed to climb. No sooner had he located himself in the shafting when the milk and beer got in its deadly work and Booze was suddenly taken with a fit of sea-sickness which so dazed him that he fell off his perch into the ink-barrel, almost disappearing from view. He was fished out and looked like a tarred rat. Several attempts were made to remove the gelatinous substance and he was finally treated to a lye bath, which proved a failure. A benzine bath was then given him, and together with the ink his hair came out and he was as bald as the youngster he had so unceremoniously slapped.

            The shock prostrated him for some days and he managed to sober up, during which time the genuine monkey began to appear in all its wild and unrestrained deviltry. On one occasion he got up on the cases where he had seen the printers set type so often, and when no one was looking he picked up handful after handful of matter set upon a galley and began to distribute it all over the case. He slammed it in by the pound, and after each scoop of live matter he would look over his shoulder to see how it struck the office-boy. Both of them thought it was an intensely humorous exhibition, and in less than a minute Booze had pied two cases and ruined two columns of local news. For something like half an hour he was chased around the office by the whole force and pelted with billets of wood and old shoes. He finally made his escape up a chimney leading from an unused fireplace, where he camped for forty-eight hours without food or beer. He was finally coaxed down and forgiven, but immediately went into disgrace by getting drunk again. One afternoon the editor's wife came in with a small hand mirror and laid it down on the desk. It was wrapped in pink paper and caught the monkey's eye. He took possession of and opened it. There was something new to him. He saw the other monkey and made a wild grab behind the glass so as to reach the animal. He failed in this and then began a series of close investigations, which were as fruitless of discovery as the attempt to grab the opposition. He twisted the glass around and looked under and over it. Several times he essayed to get around the other side of the mirror before the other monkey escaped, and finally gave vent to his feelings by bringing the article down on the corner of a chair with understood results. His heart was broken and that afternoon he began a debauch that was the cause of his undoing. From 3 to 8 o'clock he camped in the Teamsters' Heaven and hit the flowing bowl with unabated zest. After he had drained the can to the dregs he came home and staggered over to the stove, where he fell down and went to sleep. On the following morning he worked his way back to the Heaven to get a bracer and found that the drippings had not begun yet. He walked around the can a few moments and returned to the office with a fit of the snakes and trembling with nervousness. By noon he was as weak as a kitten and all attempts to revive him failed. Shortly after that he passed in his Darwinian chips and was buried with great ceremony among the leading citizens in the back yard who had tried to point out needed reforms in the Appeal during political times.