AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A PENNSYLVANIAN
| Then sadly Pennypacker comes |
| Forth to the graveyard gray, |
| And lays a grateful wreath of plums |
| Upon the tomb of Quay. |
| "O Master," 'twixt his sobs he saith, |
| "When all cartoonists die, |
| When editors, all gagged to death, |
| 'Neath broken presses lie. |
| Four noble statues I'll erect |
| With public funds to pay; |
| The Gilded Hog, the Yellow Dog, |
| Myself and Matthew Quay." |
A picture equal in merit to the poem accompanied it.
For the 29th of May, a prize fight, under the guise of a boxing bout, between “Bob” Fitzsimmons, the champion, and “Tommy” Burns, had been scheduled at a sporting club at North Essington in Delaware County. The fisticuff fraternity in New York, who feared to run the risk of prosecution under the laws of that state, had arranged to have the bout in the Quaker County of Delaware, just outside of Philadelphia, where, as they convinced themselves, it would be within easy reach and safe. They had the support of the sporting editors of the Philadelphia journals, and the scheme was lauded rather than opposed. A special train was engaged to bring over the New York “fancy” and tickets were so much in demand that they sold as high as fifty dollars each. McDade, the conscientious young district attorney of Delaware County, did what he could to prevent the occurrence, but he found that the sheriff was in league with the rounders and the forces were too strong for him. Then he came to Harrisburg to see me. I tried in every way to get into communication with the sheriff, but he, too, had the impression that I was helpless to act, except through his intervention, and he went into hiding and escaped all directions. Then I called Groome to the department and said to him:
