A Late Night Kitchen Intruder
A panicked homeowner summons the fire department and police, believing a burglar is loose in his house—only to find his own servant girl.
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.
At 11 o'clock last night, the family of James Collins, living on Main Street, near Fourth, were awakened by a peculiar noise coming from the kitchen. Mr. Collins arose, and discovering in the darkened room the form of a man, and imagining that he could see the person handling what looked like a set of silverware, he hurried to the Fourth Street fire house, reported the matter, and claimed that a burglar was in his residence. Immediately, a telephone alarm was sent to police headquarters, and while Captain Willard and Jailer Noble were hurrying to the scene, Mr. Collins returned, surrounded his house to cut off escape, and waited for the police. The house was soon surrounded, and Captain Willard proceeded to make an entrance. He found the kitchen door unlocked, and with a dozen armed men, marched into the room. The flash of the policeman's lantern did not reveal the expected burglar, but merely the girl, the domestic servant, in her apron, who had just returned from a late errand.
“The house was soon surrounded, and Captain Willard proceeded to make an entrance. He found the kitchen door unlocked, and with a dozen armed men, marched into the room.”
This domestic incident highlights the 1890s era of panic-response, where residents in rapidly developing urban neighborhoods like Pioneer Square lived in heightened states of alert regarding crime.
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