Source:Allegheny-1870-04-19
"Allegheny." Pittsburgh Commercial, Apr. 19, 1870, [p. 4]. Newspapers.com 85542341.
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Closed.—The Mayor's court was closed yesterday morning. There was not a single case in the lock-up.
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In Quest of Amusement.—The aldermen bid fair in a short time to become proficient in the old time game of mumble-the-peg. Owing to the utter stagnation of business in their line, they are devoting their time exclusively to this and other light mental amusements.
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Claims the Right of Way.—The new sewer on Spring Garden avenue necessitates the removal of some three hundred feet of gas and water pipe on that thoroughfare. The property owners will be decided gainers by the change, as the pipe removed is only two inches in diameter, while that which is to take its place is four.
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Missed Roll Call.—Pete Harrington, a frequent visitor at the Workhouse, missed roll call on Sunday morning. It appears that usage is not second nature in Peter's case; the oftener he is sent to Claremont, the more he dislikes that praiseworthy institution. Last Friday he was recommitted to his old quarters by Mayor Brush. Saturday night he managed to make his escape. The police are on the lookout for Peter.
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Trifling Theft.—The other night, some person not having the fear of the law before him, entered the cellar of constable Holman's house, in the Eighth ward, and carried off a quantity of Adam's potatles [sic] As Adam is known as an efficient and energetic officer, having been connected with Alderman Egger's office for a number of years, the action of the thief or thieves may be regarded as peculiarly daring.
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A Trifling Difference.
Unless the authorities are disposed to favor Hans Breitman's style in preference to pure English or German, it would be well to distinguish some of the streets in the Third and Seventh wards, by giving them names less liable to corruption than those they bear at present. We could tell of an instance where an individual in search of Willow street was led to believe that he was pursuing a shadow, which sometimes shot a dozen blocks ahead of him, or fell as many in his rear. Occasionally it was completely lost. Although the mass of testimony located it somewhere between Woods' Run and Herr's Island, it remained for a small boy scarcely bigger than an interrogation point to fix it permanently. "Willow street—Oh! you mean Villa street." It was as clear as mud in a second. The Hans Breitmans in the East End have an insurmountable prejudice against the letter V., which our city fathers will do well to remember when they perfect their street nomenclature.
