These terms signify a man’s discharge from the position that he occupies.
1835. We no sooner got him in, that the first course he took was to give walking papers to every man in office who had dared to oppose the greatest and best.—‘Col. Crockett’s Tour,’ p. 80 (Phila.).
1835. He received his walking ticket. His services were no longer required.—Id., p. 162.
1835. He got his walking orders, and Taney was taken into his place.—Id., p. 170.
1851. I expected to get my walking papers about killing old “Cuff;” the whole family thought he was a great dog.—M. L. Byrn, ‘An Arkansaw Doctor,’ p. 55.
1853. The President sent for me soon after, and read to me my credentials (then popularly known as my walking-ticket).—Putnam’s Mag., ii. 82/1 (July). (Italics in the original.)
1855. [He] added to the enormity of his conduct by giving me my walking ticket.—W. G. Simms, ‘Border Beagles,’ p. 45 (N.Y.).
1856. He’s got his walkin’ ticket now.—‘Widow Bedott Papers,’ No. 8.
1856. You’ll get your walkin’ ticket on short order.—Id., No. 25.
1856. We concluded, after considerable deliberation, (on the part of Phil entirely, I was resigned to anything,) to give our Alma Mater a wide berth, don our foxtail, and take a walking ticket towards sundown.—Yale Lit. Mag., xxi. 144 (Feb.).
1859. The King gave him his walking papers, and sent for the countryman.—Herald of Freedom, Lawrence, Kas., Nov. 26.
1862. He will think ef he dares to keep back the truth, that you’ll be sure to give him his walkin papers.—Seba Smith, ‘Letters of Major Jack Downing,’ June 8.
1865. This poor victim declared that he had remained there [the Insane Asylum] long enough; he “wanted his walking papers.”—G. W. Nichols, ‘The Story of the Great March,’ p. 298.
1873. “He will get his walking ticket, won’t he?” “Not much!” said our friend, laughing loudly.—Barry and Patten, ‘Men and Memories of San Francisco,’ p. 104.
a. 1888. The chaplain of a Western bishop remarked to the compiler, “He can give me my walking papers at any time.”
1896. I’ll give him his walking-chalk when he comes to-night.—Ella Higginson, ‘Tales from Puget Sound,’ p. 97.
