Market Office Conversation - 1890

In November 1980, a reporter for the Hamilton Herald, in search of a story, walked around the Hamilton Market Square before deciding to pop into the office of the city official in charge of Market operations.

Here is the Herald man’s description of the office, and of the usual collection of idlers who would visit there for some conversation :

 “A small room, a portion of which was partitioned off by a low railing, with carpetless floor, upon which the light streaming through three small windows disclosed the fact that it was unfamiliar to the brush of the scrubwoman; a desk, several chairs drawn around a small wood-stove, and a wood –box, completed a bird’s eye view of the interior of the Market Clerk’s office.

“So much for the room; now for the occupants.

          “They were half a dozen in number, and each reclined in an easy, careless attitude upon one of the chairs, except one, who was poised on top of the high wood-box.

          “The figure which chose the edge of the wood box for a seat was the one, perhaps, who would attract the attention of the stranger, first of all. Short, thick-set, with a square, box-like trunk, from which depended legs and arms, and surmounted by a head of more than ordinary size. The head was covered with a shock of grey hair, which hung above the red and blue weather-beaten face like the mane of a mountain lion. The eyes were grey and deep set, the nose would be the envy of a park bummer, the end of it resembling a bung starter. The mouth was square cut, like the crack in a squash pie, and around the face like a frame grew a profusion of iron-grey whiskers. Cover this figure with a suit of brownish grey clothes and you have then only and original Michael Joyce.

          After some idle chat, “Doc” Richardson felt the need to heatly express his opinion of the temperance efforts of the local clergy who had formed an organization of all the church leaders in the city.

          “The Ministerial Association is tryin’ to run this town,” remarked Doc Richardson. “They don’t want no wine at banquets and sich; nex thing yo’ know they’ll be a-tryin’ to prevent me drinkin’ wine at my dinner.”

          Next the topic turned to predictions about the upcoming winter.

          “Speaking of the weather,” began Jim Burgess, “can you tell me, Doc, what the coming winter will be like?”

          “Well, now I’ve been ‘bout the country some m’self, an’ I tell you Jim der’s agwine’ to be quite a spell of weather soon. I’ve noticed the thickness of the bark of the trees an’ the burrs of the chesnuts is – Great Caesar, what’s that?”

          The alarming sound was caused by “the only and original” Michael Joyce.

          “There was a crash and the funny little figure perched on the wood-box was seen to disappear through the lid which had collapsed. The gang stood in breathless expectancy for a moment fearing that he might be hurt, but, when a loud snore, like the snort of a Nile River horse, awoke the echoes within the wood-box, some one said “Even the fall didn’t wake him up” and the gang departed.”

          In the 1890, Michael Joyce was one of the most familiar characters in Hamilton. Very loud, very opinionated, especially on municipal political matters, Michael would in fact run for Mayor in one election.

          But on that day, for whatever, the Irishman was tired, very tired, and his friends decided to let him “sleep it off” in the Market office.