The Bad Boy At Home Part 7

D. marked on the band." I sed: "Yes, marm."

"Well, they must be mine, cos my name's Carryline Duncan, & I alwus mark my cloes C. D. for short. I didn't kno I'd lost 'em til I got hum, after I'd ben down to the Post offis sendin a letter to Tom; that's my feller wots ben to China for ten yeres."

Then I giv em to her, and puttin them under her arm, she walked out as happy as culd be.

I thot I was thru with my trubbel with wimmin's warin apparel for one day, so I started hum. I'd ony got to the corner of Spruce street, wen a grate strappin perliceman c.u.m up to me, and clappin me on the shoulder, sed: "I've got you, sunny, this time; c.u.m along, now, or I'll be after makin you." I seen discreshun was the better part of valler, so I let him leed me. Wen we got to the stashun he preferred a charge of larceny gainst me. Then they axt me if I had eny bodie wot'd go my bale, so I got 'em to send for Mr. Gilley. Wen he arrove, he c.u.m up to me, the teers streem-in down his cheeks, and sed: "Georgie, I'm sorry to see you in such a posishun, but you'd better pleed gilty, and axe mercy of the cort, cos they've got a sure case agen you. If you'd ony bin sharp enuf to hide the property, it wouldn't ben so bad." Jest then the lady wot the shawl was stole from, come to identerfy it. Mr. Gilley & me was lookin on. The lady looked orful close, and sed that looked jest like her shawl, wot was all black, ony this one didn't hav no yaller stanes on the corner were she dropt the lemon juce on to hers. Mr. Gilley looked at it close, and purty soon he sed: "Why, Georgie, that's our offis towl." Then I seen all thru it in a minnit, cos there was the towl wot I'd been carryin home to get washed, and the per-liceman, seein the end stickin out from under my cote, and knowin that a black shawl had been stole, arrested me as the theef. Then they had a big laff, and Mr.

Gilley set em up for the crowd. He sed he knowd I was orful honorary, but he never culd b'leeve that I'd steel enything.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE DELINKENT SUBSCRIBER'S ARISTOCRAZEY IDEAS ON THE EDITTUR'S DIGESTIV ORGANS.--A NEW WAY TO COLLECT OLD DETS.

There's a lot of fellers wot hav brown-stone manshuns up town, and French cooks wot dish em up everything good, from frogs' lim--er--leg to the posterier xten-shun of a eel's spinal collum, frickerseed, with mushrum catchup sauce. B'sides that, they've got lots of munney in the bank, and wuldn't think no more of givin sum Anglo Saxton perfesshunal beggar a thousand-dollar keepsake than they wuld of let-tin there folks go to Longbransh or Newport durin the all-fired heeted turm.

I dont mene, Mr. Diry, that all the welthy people of New York are alike, but I have refrense to that cla.s.s of peeple wot are laberin under the 'mpresshun that editoriel stummicks was patented, and bilt spesh.e.l.ly and xclusivly for the absorpshun and dijestshun of printin-house paste and wind puddins, with ritin-fluid sauce as a con-dyment and appytizer.

These are the peepel who alwus allow there noosepaper bills to acc.u.mmerlate till they dropoff, and the edit-tur gives them a bang-up introduckshun on there long jurney, in the hope that the adminnysteers of there estates'll allow his bill Feint hope that is, cos were was the adminnysteer that was ever known to acknowledge a noosepaper bill as genwine. They all go on the princerpel "that all editturs is liars, and all big liars is editturs," and take the same deduckshun, wot is alwus this: "A bill persented by a liar must be a lie, on its face "; therefore, it is unallowable.

The reeson I've ben thus sollykisin, Mr. Diry, is, cos the expenses of the campane hav ben purty hevvy on Mr. Gilley, and yet havin had a chanse to dip his fingers inter the State Tressurey, he was run-nin a littel short of funds. So this afternoon he give me a lot of old bills to collect.

I found it purty had work, cos every-bodie 'peared to be perticklar fond of pay-in all there bills next week. I was gettin diseurraged, and I didn't like to go back to the offis without no munney, so I thot up a littel skeem. There was a big flour deeler wot owd a bill of $40, wot'd got outlored. So I went over to his offis and ast the clurk to tell him I wanted to see him on pertickler bisness. The clurk sed he was orful 'ngaged, & I'd better call round next week, and praps he'd hav time to tork to me. I insisted and told him to tell Mr. Paynuthin, that the bisness wot I warnted to see him on was a matter of immense importanse to himself. Soon as I got in, I sed: "Mr. Paynuthin, we've got on to sum very valuabel informashun, wot'll make your fortune, if the other flourmen don't get it fust. Now, if you'll pay up this bill, I'll giv it to you at wonce, and you'll get the inside trak on 'em." I seen he was gettin interested, so I concluded, by sayin: "Now if you don't get this in-formashun, it may leed to your ruin." He didn't say a wurd, but went to the safe, and got out the $40, and I receeted the bill, and axt him for a peece of paper, cos he mite forget it if I didn't rite it down.

Then I wrote in big letters: "Owe no man a cent," and biddin him goodby, I took a hasty departure. The skeem work'd splendid every place I went, only at wun old lawyers offis, and he sed: "Yung man, I've been cheetin, fleecin and beetin everybodie for the last forty years, and there aint no noosepaper man livin wot can tell me eny eeseier way to mak a fortune. Git out," and I got. Mr. Gilley says I'm the boss collecttur, and orter hire myself out to a Mutual Life and Accident a.s.so-shiashun as a.s.sesment gatherer.

CHAPTER XXVII.

MINSE PIE AND DREEMS.--TERRIBLE RETRYBUSHUN.--WOT'LL OVER TAKE A GOOD MENNY.--VIRTUE RECEIVES ITS REWARD.

I guess the wurry of collecktin yesterday afternoon muster wurked upon my mind, cos, last nite, I dremt a dreem, wot'd maid each seprate hare on the heds of every delikent subskriber stand on end, and sing out "Pay up your noosepaper bill, old feller, if yer dont warnt a skorschin in the dubius hereafter."

Ma and Pa was out, cos it was prayer meetin nite at our church, so I went ter bed urley, cos I was frade wen they c.u.m home, they'd miss the hull minse pie wot I'd ete.

I'd just bout got ter sleep, wen I smelt a orful smell, surgestiv of a straw hat revivin shop, wen they burn sulfir and brimstone, I looked down and behold, I seen a cort room, with a lot of lawyers and clurks sittin round a table, and the judge in a pulpit wot over looked them.

The peepel all looked like Barnum's skellyton man, ony they didnt have no skin over there bones, and there eyes was maid of fire b.a.l.l.s and eech of em had a long tail, like a snake. Purty soon the judge sed the court was open for bisness, and the sargent at arms brot in a feller all dressed up with a gold wach and big charm wot I reckernized as one of our ded beet subskri-bers wot'd dide last weak.

The judge looked him all over in a com-plermenterry way, and ast him if he'd alwus lived a onhest and uprite life.

"Yer onher," sed he, "I've given of my substanse to the poor; I've luved my nay-bor as myself; I've surved for ten years as Warden of a fashunubble church, and tride to the best of my knowlege and beleef to do rite."

"Yer onher," sed the prosercutin turney, wot I reckernized as the ex-religio-jurnalistick edittur of a defunckted alliance noosepaper, "May I ast the prisner a questshun?"

"You may," sed Judge Satan, for it was his infurnissimo himself.

"Prisner at the bar," sed the turney, "Did you pay your subskripshun to the _Buster_ 'fore you checked your baggage thru to Hay dies?"

"No, sir," sed the prisner, "I did not. I never thot it was perticklar, cos editturs aint like other mortels, enyway, and I never knowd it was a sin to beet em if you culd."

"Yes, sir, yer onher," said the prosercutin 'turney, "he confesses his gilt, and I find, by lookin over the reckord, he ows the _Buster_ offis for 8 years' subskripshun besides a hull string of free advertisin wot the edittur giv him outer goodness of hart. Not only that, but I notis in the day book that jest wun week 'fore he departed he ordered his paper stopped, cos he was opposed to surportin', by his munny, a Dem-mercratick candydate for Guvner. You see, yer onher, there is nothing left for you but to pa.s.s sentense on the prisner."

"Prisner at the bar," sed the Judge, "this yere cort sentenses you to hard laber shuvlin' flames at a tempyrature of 6,000 degrees, for 10,000 yares, durin' all wich time you will sing 'I want to be a angel, And with the editturs stand!' Shurruf, conduct the prisner to furnace number 561, next to Gittoes."

Soon as he'd gone, a cullered gentleman was brot in, and in ansur to there quest-shuns as to his morral standing he sed:

"Jedge I knoes I'se a hard cityzen, and I've done gone and sinned purty nigh all the sins wot I know'd of. Steelin' fouls, hookin' nickles outer the contrybushun box, 'propriatin' millyuns wot I'd no legal rite and t.i.tel to, gettin' converted at camp meetin' so as I culd mash wun of.

them purty sistern, and other offenses too numer-ickel to menshun, but if this yere cort'U giv this n.i.g.g.e.r a sho, I'll try to leed a dif-frent life."

"Prisner, did you ever tak a noose-paper?" sed the Prosercutin' Turney.

"Yes, sar; I'se skribed for the _Christshun Advercate_ for 'bout six yares, and I've payed it up in advanse for most a yare to c.u.m."

"Bobby, my boy," sed the cort to his rite hand man, "go order the cook, to kill the fatted ram, and prepare a bang up lay out, cos this here cullurd brother is a man, molded after my own hart. Shake, my man,"

sed he, shovin his rite boney hand to the cullured feller's, "and after we've feested, and viserted my privat opra house, and taken in the new skellyton bailey at-trackshuns, I'll driv yer thru my subteranean domminyuns, fore you tak the xpress for Skie stashun, and you bet you'll say this here devil aint as bad as he's painted, cos he knoes how to onher a distingushed guest."

Then the seen vanished from my vishun, and I woke up, hollerin with a pane in my programme, and ma had ter get me a dose of brandie and ginger, outer the flask, wot pa carries, when he goes a fishin.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

AT THE STOCK EXCHANGE.--THE ENGAGEMENT.--FIRE IN THE SHECARGO UNIYUN DEPOT.--A OFFER FROM JAY GOULD.

This mornin noose was sorter dull, so the city edittur sent me down to the Stock Exchange for to write up the anticks of the Bulls and Bares.

Wen I got down there I guess the annymiles hadn't got round, but there keepers was purty numerous, and made a good deel more noise than they would theirselves. I was showd up to the visters gallary, so as I culd get a good vue of the fite wot was goin on tween the grangers and coalers. The way they do there fitin puts me in mind of wen we use-ter go to skule, cos they chew up a lot of paper, and make spit b.a.l.l.s outer it, and then paste each other on the eyes with them. Jay Gould is the name of a littel bit of a feller, he aint much in size, but he's hale columby wen it comes rite down to spit ball fites, cos he pasted old Russel Sage and Vandybilt outer ther boots, hittin fare in the eyes every time.

Wen they was gettin purty well tired out, a lot of fellers wot was "hit," c.u.m out, and the other formed rings round them and sung a song wot sounded like it was maid up of five 8s and three 1/4 s. I shuld think theyd be ashamed of theirselves, grate big men, spendin there time playin a game wot Boys, as big as me, wuldn't do for a nickel. I seen they was disgracin us, New Yorkers, so I thot it was time to put a stop to it, and bring em down to bisness, so I sung out orful loud:

"Gintelmin: Thurs a big fire in the Uniyun Depot in Sheecargo." Then they all looked up to see who was talkin, and reckernized me, as connected with the _Buster_. You'd dide, to see em flyin round; the fellers wot do the bullin was purty neer crazey, coverin up there stocks, with margin's. Stocks come flyin down, like litenin, and the barish porshun of the compenney, was makin a immense pile of munney.

The country lams wot the Bulls and bares had been fleecin, so as there wives, & gals culd have wool enuf, to stuff the footstools with, wot they was makin for Chrissmas boxes, hurd wot I sed, and tumbeled to it, and sold all the Western trunk stocks. I didn't say nothing till I seen thay'd got a good deal onter the bulls, then I sung out agen, "Gentelmen, The big fire wot, I sed, was in the Uniyun Depot, at Sheecargo, is still burnin fiercely, in the heeter, wots lokated in the seller."

I didn't wate to say good by, cos the fire-like gleem wot gleemed at me from bout a hundred pares of eyes, boded no good for the _Busters_ devil.

Wen I got back to the offis a note was watin for me, wot red:

Dare Devil--You've mistakin your callin. A sensashunalist like yurself orter stick to the spesshialty bisness. If you'll quit the noosepa-per perfesshun, I'll form a syndycate, and run you as a stock hammerer, and gin you half the proffits.

Yours very trooly,

Gould.

I a.s.sure you, Mr. Diry, the temptashun was purty strong, but I thot of my integrity and princerples, and rote:

Sur--I prefer my present persisshun of hammerin branes inter the publick to that of hammerin stocks. Not all the syndycates of 'Merica wuld temp me to relinquish my onherabel con-necshuns with the _Dailey Buster_.

Yours trooly,