The Goat Meat Grift
A Seattle housewife takes matters into her own hands after a local butcher tries to swindle her.
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.
Mrs. Flynn related with much pathos an incident in her life that graphically illustrates woman's trustfulness and perfidy. 'Oi was in the market wan mornin' lookin' for some mate, an' a Dootch butcher axed me how an elegant bit of spring lamb was soot. Oi said it was food, an' he sed it was the best in the market or he wouldn't be offerin' it to a lady loike meself. Oi'm fond of spring lamb, an' so Oi took a hunk av it home an' cooked it fer me old man an' meself.' After serving it, she noted a strange 'rank and romantic flavor.' When she later discovered a piece of the skin—with hair, not wool, still attached—she realized the butcher had sold her goat. 'Oi couldn't afford to lose the mate, d'ye see, an' so Oi kept me jaw to meself.' After stewing it to mask the taste, she waited. A few days later, she returned to the market with the skin as evidence. 'Oi hunted till me beautiful Dootchman [was found], and axed, 'Have ye any more mate this mornin', Dutchy?' When he offered spring lamb again, she grabbed a ten-pound steak and 'slammed it around his big Dootch ears' until he cried out. 'The nixt time ye sell me goat fer spring lamb, ye thavin' Dootch man,' she said, 'Oi'll make ye ate his whiskers!'
“The nixt time ye sell me goat fer spring lamb, ye thavin' Dootch man, Oi'll make ye ate his whiskers!”
This story offers a rare, spirited glimpse into the agency of working-class women in 1890s Seattle. While the butcher's fraud was a common retail risk of the era, the housewife's direct, physical retribution remains a striking subversion of the period's domestic expectations.
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