was old. You could tell that by the barnacles that covered It. It was prodded over on Its ancient back by inquisitive toes and It slapped itself across Its chest like a cabby on a cold night.
Lew told how he caught It. He and Hogan went out in a rowboat about 9 o'clock yesterday morning to look over their weakfish nets. It was flopping around in Lew's best net. Lew leaned over and got hold of a flipper. He found himself in all sorts of trouble right away and called for Hogan. The latter changed position too quickly and they both went in. Lew had hold of the flipper and never let go. If Al Girard and Nelse Williams hadn't come along in a launch just then there is no telling what would have happened. Al and Nelse got Hogan and Lew out and Lew had hold of the flipper.
It is the biggest turtle—there, it's out now—that ever has been caught in Gravesend. A deep sea turtle at that and weighs anywhere from 150 to 200 pounds.
Lew hasn't said yet what he will do with the turtle, but he hints darkly of soup. Maybe it isn't a soup turtle.
How a bit of information gleaned from a janitor
may furnish the basis for an amusing little story,
developed almost entirely by conversation, in this instance
with the added flavor of Irish brogue, is well
illustrated by this example taken from the New York
Tribune:
Mike, one of the cleaners at the
Hall of Records, beamed with satisfaction
yesterday afternoon—so much
so that every one noticed it. The corners
of his mouth wrinkled upward,
and he acted as if he had found a
pocketbook for which there would be
no claimant.
