The Perilous Journey of the Little Brown Jug
A logger's desperate, tipsy attempt to retrieve his prized whiskey jug from the Seattle harbor makes for a chaotic afternoon on the waterfront.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
A practical illustration of the tenacity required to hang on to a 'little brown jug' was given yesterday afternoon on Yesler's wharf, just back of the blacksmith shop. A burly logger from one of the camps across the Sound came paddling up the slip in a skiff. He came to the steps, moored his little craft, and was shortly afterward meandering up town, saving a veritable 'little brown jug' in his hand. In the course of time he came shambling down the wharf with a gait that allowed plainly he had been paying his devotions at the shrine of Bacchus; but he still clung to the little jug. He left it on the cap of the wharf, and after a deal of skirmishing about, succeeded in putting the line to the skiff clear. Then he scrambled up the steps and procured the much-prized jug, but during this time the skiff had swung off, and in attempting to make a long stride to get aboard, he missed his step and shot down with a splash. His head soon came peering up out of the water, and his hand stretched aloft with the 'little brown jug' still in his grasp. After splashing about awhile and sinking and rising again, he succeeded in reaching the side of the skiff. He caught the side of the craft with an iron grip with his left hand, and with his right placed the little jug out of danger. Then he nearly upset his skiff in trying to get in, but at this juncture some men from the blacksmith shop came to his assistance, and he was soon safely ensconced in the skiff beside his little treasure.
“His head soon came peering up out of the water, and his hand stretched aloft with the 'little brown jug' still in his grasp.”
This waterfront scene, set on the wooden wharves of 1876 Seattle, captures the rugged, often volatile life of the city's early labor force. Today, while the blacksmith shops and muddy slips are replaced by skyscrapers and seawalls, the image of the lone worker navigating the harsh urban environment remains a central, if transformed, element of our city's narrative.
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