Cripple Creek, Colorado, November 1896 - Josie Coyle, a well-known young woman, of Cripple Creek, Col, ends her life. A house of ill repute in Poverty Gulch, Cripple Creek, Colo., was the scene of a dramatic suicide early the other morning when Josie Coyle, a popular inmate, ended her troubles with poison. [more]

She had taken a large dose of some drug when she was discovered by one of the other girls who asked her if she felt ill.

“I’ve taken poison, Maudie!” was all she could say and then she died in a few minutes.

The name, Josie Coyle, was an assumed one. The woman was married, her husband, a blacksmith, residing in Denver. She had two children living with their father. Almost the last thing she said was that she hoped they would never know the depth to which their mother had been degraded.

The National Police Gazette, November 28, 1896

The three-night date which a snap extravaganza company played in Butte, Montana, a short time ago, will be remembered for a long time by some of the leading citizens of that very enterprising town. In the first place the bunch of girls who came with the show, and who, in fact, were the show, were the jolliest lot that ever smoked cigarettes or knocked the heads off champagne bottles.

They had seen something of the world, they had, and so when a swell sport of the town invaded the rooms behind the scenes and said there was a cold hundred in it for any girl who would go around to the Combination house and play out a deal of faro in tights, half a dozen of them jumped at him so quick that he almost lost his balance. He didn't want them all so he picked out the one that pleased him most, Nadage De Witt. He engaged a carriage for her after the show and after she had wrapped up well to keep those precious legs of hers warm, she was bundled in. She made the hit of her life when she stepped into, the brilliantly lighted faro room, and the created the biggest sensation Butte has known for some time. She took a seat at the layout and was staked to a $50 stack of chips. She played out three boxes, when she got up from the chair with $160 to the good, which with the $100 she earned by her appearance, made $260 clean. She tells the story herself now and is very anxious to get with any theatrical companies intending to play Butte. Do you blame her?

National Police Gazette, January 25, 1896.