Five Cent Wide Awake Library (vol. 1) (1879 02 10)
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j Eitered at the Post Ofice at New York, N. T., as Second Class Matter, Pee } PRICE ; ‘ No. No, GB, teomrrieme } COMPLETE ceepax. _'5 CENTS: ome, _'somnme} VOL * _ Volt I MULLIGAN’S 1 BOY. hile ieee MM. TEASER, Author of ‘“*Skinny the Tin Pedle **Wip Flip,” ‘* Jim Jams,” ‘ e Muleahey Twins,” ‘*Corkey,” Etc., Ete. 7 a pra TE ae : | eat ht i L i" iS 2 | mT | Il | . @ * f § WIN hy este y i] | i Hi 5 } MAI ie “ HAA © | 1) i, ! ULL AT MTN: SAS Th ' Ny ' i MATL Vin ve am | WENN NUN NY | ae 4 \ ih { a A i , — a <aees| Be ih: <= e 1) | = Pe With } ss SAN WV ANA Wt :
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2 eee MULLIGANS BOY. The subscription price for Taz Wips Awake Lisrary for the year 188. will be $2.50 FRANK TOUSEY, Puxnuisoer, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, er year; $1.25 per 6 months, post d. BweYork.’ ~~ Box 2780, ae pe Address MULLIGAN’S BOY. By - TOM. TEASE...” Author of “Senator Muldoon,” ‘Muldoon Abroad,” ‘Jimmy Grimes,” ‘Muldoon the Solid Man,” ‘Hildebrandt Fitzgum,” “A Bad . tog,” “The Deacon's Son,” “Skinny the Tin Pedler,” -‘‘Mulcahy Twins,” ‘‘Muldoon’s Boarding-House,” “Muldoon’s Brother Dan,” “Two in a Bow,” Hic., Htc., Ete. PART I. ‘* MULLIGAN’S Boy ’”? wasn’t a beauty. iy, There was nothlng pale, or intellectual, or lily-like about him. He was rather tall, with a face like a Dutch cheese with aslice cut out, the missing piece being where his mouth was, His nose extended skyward, and his eyes were round and goggle, They were just about as expressive as a dried cod-fish’s, In age he was just about fifteen, but he looked— well, he had one of those impassive faces which do not show whether its owner is twelve or thirty-five or thirty-five hundred. At the time our story begins he was in the steerage of a National Line steamer. The steerage was decidedly lively. New York city was in sight. - The majesticsteamer was slowly proceeding up the noble bay, and every one was preparing for their en- trance into the gate-way of America. All was prepared for disembarkment among the steerage passengers. Trunks were strapped, boxes were corded, valises securely entwined, and even bundles fastened by stout threads which secured their contents from damage. The steerage, of course, was full of all sort6 of people Rs a nationalities. ‘It was an epitome of cosmopoli- hanity, There was the frigid Swede, the garrulous Gaul, the burly, red-faced son of Great Britain, the lusty, merry, always-ready-for-frolic-or-fight Irishman, the seda but sturdy Scotchman, the dark-skinned, passionate- eyed Spaniard; in fact, most of the nations of the globe appeared to be represented. i Foremost of all was Mulligan's Boy. His personal appearance has already been described. Now for @ glance into his private history. His right name, let us say, was not Mulligan. But it was akin to Mulligan; that is to say, it was Mulvaney, the first or Christian name being Michael, or, ag he was called, Mike, ; ike had been unfortunate, as a rule, so far in life. His parents had both died when he was but a mere child, succumbing to a contagious disease which de- vastated the North of Ireland at that period, and as Mike was their only child, he was left to the care of a guardian—one Peter Mulligan, a Dublin lawyer, and old college friend of Mike’s father, Mike’s father was not rich, — Neither was he poor. / ; The younger son of a well-to-do family, he had been left at the death of his male parent in a situation which, if it did not encourage expense upon one side, did not enjoin economy upon the other, So Mr. Mul- vaney, senior, had felt perfectly justified in wedding a penniless, rosy-cheeked, black-eyed daughter of old Ireland, whose only dowry was her good looks and her good ‘temper. } Both died, as before stated, and Peter Mulligan, solicitor, was left Se of Mike. It was a trust which Peter really did not desire. He was a bachelor and a student; a bald-headed, weazen-faced fellow of uncertain age, to whom the poring over of some dry, dust-covered hook appeared to be the acme of ear pleasure. Yet he had liked Mulvaney, pere, and he accepted the trust left bim, ne, resolved to do his best for his charge. When Mike reached him he was a stout, square- shouldered boy of eight, and Mr. Mulligan at once put him at a boarding-school, in charge of a client of his, one Dr, O'Keefe. There Mike staid for seven years, and a hard seven years it was for the doctor, When Mike first came to the school the doctor had, in. duty bound, asked his name, Now, the day before, Mike had been to court, going through that awful and solemn process a which was necessary in order to make him the ward of Mr. Mulligan. The stern faces of the bewigged, bepowdered judges had impressed him. He had received an idea—par- donable at his time of life—that he was Mulligan’s property, as much as @ cow or another animal would So it occurred that when he went under Dr. 0’Keefe's custody and was asked his name, he replied, upon the question being ee to him: “Mulligan’s Boy.” The doctor could not repress a laugh, and somehow (the doctor may have told it himself) the incident was noised about the school, Thereafter Mike Mulvaney’s identity was sunk in that of “‘Mulligan's Boy,” for tis school-fellows gave him the nick-name, and of course it stuck. “Verily, Mr. Muiligan had not cause to be proud of his son, by ridicule. “Mulligan’s boy,’ it appeared,’was always getting into some scrape. He appeared to be the cause of-all the mischief in Dr. O’Keefe’s school. Who was it that shod the feet of the doctor’s favorite cat with nut-shells? ““Mulligan’s Boy |’? Who was it led a stray jackass up-stairs and tied him to the door-knob of the doctor's door? “Mulligan’s boy.’ Who was it placed a pail of water in such a position upon a half-opened door that Professor Lengthy, tutor at the school, was deluged with the fluid to an extent which ruined his best suit of clothes?” ‘Mulligan’s Boy.” ' Who greased the front stoop of the boarding-house so that when the dignified doctor tried to walk down it he fellin a way decidedly undignified, upsetting a passing grocéry boy laden with a basket of gro- ceries? i “ Mulligan’s Boy.’? : Really, ‘‘Mulligan’s Boy”? got to be a nuisance in the school, and the doctor, half-worried out of his life by the pranks of the lad, implored Mr, Mulligan to take him away. ; ? Mulligan bra and firmly refused. He showed the doctor the written contract, in which O'Keefe agreed to take care of Michael Mulvaney, to feed, clothe, and educate him till he was twenty-one years of age, for a certain sum per annum, to be paid upon the first of the New Year. “Haven't I kept to my agreement? placidly asked, Mulligan of the doctor, as they sat, three weeks before the beginning of our tale. ity ‘Yes,?? sighed the doctor. “You've got your money down?” “Yes,”? ‘ “On time ?”” . “Yes, “First of the year, as I said ?” - “ Yes, +h “Then what are you a ae about ?? einer doctor rubbed his forehead with his handker- “T would rather,’ said he, “have a wild hyena in my fc than that ward of yours.” “why 4 “You have heard of people bei ossessed with devils ?”? as ne’ P é “Yess* ; “Well, if ever there was a person perenne of a devil, the devil of mischief, it is‘ Mulligan’s Boy,’ as his fellow-scholars term him. For seven years he has been in my school, and such another seven years I never desire to pass through. He has made my life miserable.’ “ But why didn’t you tell me?” , “Havent 1?” ; “Yes, once or twice. Twice, I believe. Two years ago, when you accused him of hy Ea & calf up. stairs and putting it to bed in your bed, and short afterwards of filling the logs with which you built our study fire full of powder, so that when they were law | ignited they exploded and devastated your room. I went to see him about that, and he protested his inno- cence. ; j The doctor sighed for the second time. Once more did he rub his forehead with his handker- chief, a sure sign to one familiar with his ways that he was perturbed, “Phat is the worst of it,’’ said he, “What?” asked Mulligan, ‘He always does protest his innocence of all the mischiet which he is accused of inciting. Now, he isn’t handsome.” “ Or intellectual 2” No,” i nt His face is about as expressive as a block of mar- e.! “You are right.” “The average observer would take him for a fool, an over-grown numskull; but he isn’t, He's as deep as a—a—well, a pretty deep well, too. I feel morally sure, Mr. Mulligan, that he is at the beginning and end of most all the mischief in my school, and yet I— “You what?’ “Can't prove it.” With this candid acknowledgment the pedagogue got up and rapidly paced the floor. “Yes, sir,”? he repeated, ‘\I can’t prove it. .He man- ages, fool though he iy Sena ‘to get out of every scrape as easily as a freshly caught eel slips from the naked hand of its captor. And there is a period, Mr. def when patience ceases to bea virtue. That period has arrived. No longer will I have as a pupil your ward,” : “Recollect the agreement,” softly said Mulligan. The doctor swore. : LS Yes, Dr. O'Keefe, proprietor of the Arcadian Youths? Seminary, gave utterance to a word not fit for ears ‘Dash the agreement,” he said; ‘I don’t care if you call me to account forit. Ifyou lock me up ina dungeon to die I won’t keep that boy another week. Saturday night ont he goes,” and putting on his hat, away went the irate speaker. He was as good as his word. 7 Next Saturday night Mike arrived at Mulligan’s rooms, bag and baggage, f His arrival, however, did not discomfit his guardian. as much as it might have done, for that very morning had Mr. Mulligan received a letter. oa was from Patrick O'Dowd, Alderman of New York y. P Its contents can be briefly stated. Mike’s mother, it appeared, had an elder sister, who. had made a runaway match with a young artist, and consequently been disowned by her parents, which didn’t make any particular difference any way, as they did not have anything to leave her, The artist had died soon after the couple’s arrival in America, and soon succeeding his death she had married again, ’ ‘ Her second husband was O'Dowd, who had, by hara work and good luck, risen from errand-boy to bar- keeper, and from bar-keeper to owner of the saloon, and finally to the rank of alderman, The pair were childless, and Mrs. O'Dowd, getting tired of lavishing her affections upon pug-dogs, cana- ry-birds, poll-parrots, and the like, feit a Jonging for some human pet. aS She recollected her nephew. : i Thereafter Mr. O’Dowd had no domestic peace until a letter was written to Mr. Mulligan, requesting that Mike be sent over to America, and offering to take care of him as their own child. , The letter wasto Mr. Mulligan’s perturbed mind like a flash of sunlight across a black thunder-cloud. He knew that Dr. O’Keefe would keep his word, that Mike would surely arrive Saturday night, and then—whatnext? = The idea of having his bachelor solitude and com- fort invaded and, perhaps, ruined by an imp such as his word was described to be, was awful to think of. He had worried over it, and actually lost several end of flesh, which, as he was a spare-built man, ie could not well afford to do, ‘ . The letter took a load off his mind, Mike should go to America, and he would release cd
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. 3 Dr. O’Keefe from the agreement. concerned would be happy. . Mike arrived, the picture of youthful innocence. He and all parties To look in his honest eyes, his fat, well-rounded: cheeks, one could not but believe, as appearances went, that Dr. O’Keefe was a libeler, Could Mike be such a demon of mischief as the doc- tor represented? Oh, no, it could not be. A supper was prepared, to which Mike did ample justice. His was no canary-bird appetite, but a good, healthy, boyish desire for food. After the meal was over, Mr. Mulligan ordered Mike to sit down for a talk, ‘“‘ Michael,” said he, seriously, ‘‘I have heard very ill accounts of your conduct at school.” “oTwasn’t my fault, sir,” answered Mike; ‘‘ they were all against me.” +h Who pr u “« Iverybody.”” “ Who's ‘iverybody? ” | “Tachers, sir, scholars, even the servant-girl.’’ ‘* For what reason ??. z “ They couldn’t appreciate fun, sir. Whin I played some little thrick to drive away the bad effects ay too much study, they got angry. The servant-girl became me deadly inemy bekase I put- glue in her bandoline bottle, and after she had fixed her hair she had to dig it off wid an ice-pick. The docthor can’t take a joke aither, Whin I bid him good-bye I held out me hand. He tuk it, He wished he hadn’t.”’ “Why?! | “Me hand was full ay angle-worms. The docthor bawled like @ calfl? and at the recollection of the joke Mike laughed heartily. Then, of course, Mr. Mulligan proceeded to give his hopeful charge a long lecture upon the sinfulness of a joking, to which Mike listened with rapt at- tention. f “Ye appear hoarse, Mr. Mulligan,” he said, at the end; ‘ye nade a cough-drop. It is hard—hite it ‘aisy.”? ‘ee < Not thinking for a second, Mr. Mulligan bit the of i article, which seemed to all appearances to be a candy. ' The next second there was an explosion. Mr. Mulli sprang wildly from his easy-chair.: His mouth appeared to be on fire; at least smoke came out of it. f He placed his handkerchief to his jaw and danced widly about, : “You fiend!” shrieked he, “you've—you've killed | me! All my false teeth are blown down my throat. That was a concealed torpedo instead of a cough-drop. Mulligan’s Boy smiled his own bland smile, “Faix, [havea great brain,” he said; ‘that article wur give to me by Dennis Hogan. There wur a spite against me held by Dennis, bekase I put tacks into his bed wan ote Iwur afraid ay it, and I thought I would thry it on somebody else. Did it hurt much?” “Hurt much? repeated Mr. Mulligan, groaning. ‘| won’t be able to eat meat for a week.” “Thry soup, sir,” said Mike, earnestly; ‘soup is very nourishing, at laste the docthor always says so. We used to have soup ivery day. It wur chicken soup, and it wur made by putting the wing ay a chicken, which wur used to swape off the mantel-piece, into a varrel av rain water,” “Stuff—get_me some water, you villain,” cried his guardian. “I want to take a swallow. Tt may cool my mouth.” ; “* Where’ll I get it??? “Tn the closet yonder—hurry !17 Mike obeyed. - lle we He went to the closet, and returned with a cup full of water. ; ‘“Here, sir,’ he said. 4 Mulligan grabbed the cup, and took a The next minute he dashed the cup down to the Noor, and spit out the water, while his face contracted in agony. $6 on jackass—you dolt!? bawled he, “Hey ?? said Mike. “You assassin !’” “Who is?” “You—you vagabond.” Mike's face assumed an expression of concern. ee ails you, sir?” he interrogated “ Ain’t you well?” “Well, you idiot! Do you know what you did? “What h i “You brought me hot water.” “know it, sir.’’ “Youdo? What possessed you to do 80?” ; “The docthor always said that loike cured loike. Yez mouth wur hot, and I thought that hot water aoe cure it, Faix, that is philosphical, isn’t it, sir}? “ Philosophical!’ Mr. Mulligan uttered the word as angrily as it could be uttered, and his facial expression denoted his Mike felt that it was well to fade away. ‘Can I go to bed?” he queried. “Yes,” cried Mulligan, * the quicker the better, Go to bed to-night. and Tuesday | hi go to America, He was as good as his word. . Tuesday morning Michael Mulvaney sailed for the land of the free and the home of the brave, as a steer- age passenger upon the good ship—vwell, call it any name you please—of the National Line. To relate his pranks pee the voyege over would make a separate story by itself, Suffice it to say that before Sandy Hook was sighted he was known to everybody in that steerage by the rackets he put up and put through upon them. One of his chief victims was a big, fat, burly Dutch- man, named Hans Bumblecook. Hans had been to Ameriea before; in fact, he had big swallow. | do been away to his native land” upon a brief vacation, and he was never tired of dilating to his fellow-trayvel- ers about New York and its wonders. , “Tt vos der finest blace mit der vorld,’”? he said. “Dalk apout der oldt goontries! New Yorick yos dake der cake. It vos der stobbing-blace between der vorld und Heaven.’’ The remark, doubtless, was extravagant, but Hans was sojoyous at nearing home that his enthusiasm may be pardoned. Was he not to meet his wife and five flaxen-haired children, who called him “Vater 2” “But, mein Gott, look at meinself,” he exclaimed to Mulligan’s Boy, as he peered into a small hand- lass, ‘vot a character I vos! I vos shoost as hairy- laced as a bear. I ‘pelieve dot if I vos to die my skin vould make a goot pulfalorobe, If I vos only acquaint- ed mit a razor |” Mulligan’s Boy exhibited that smile of his. _ “Mr, Bumblecook,” spoke he, “ye have been often mad at me?’ “{ yos got reason,’’ replied Bumblecook. ‘You have blayed dricks upon me all der vhile. Who vos it —only last night—filled a bottle up mit kerosenemnd said { lot it vos pale ale?’ “Und who drink it?” “You !? F ‘‘Shoost so. Youvonder dot I vos incensed at you?” “No, I don’t. Yer had & roight terbe. Yet I will forgive you. Ye spake just now av being hairy-faced —that ye wud loike a razor.” “Yaw.” “T have wan,’ teYou ?”” “ Vis—fact |? ‘ Bumblecook burst out langhing. “Vat vas you vant py a razor?’ he remarked. ‘ Dere vos apout as much hair mit your face as a pay- ing-stone. It vould be shoost as goot for business as bleasure if you vos shaye yourself mit a crowbar.” “That's all roight,’ said Mulligan’s Boy. ‘I have the razor. Here it wur.” From his pocket he fetched out a neat razor, which once had belonged to Mr. Mulligan, but now it was the property of our hero, although how he got it we can’t Say. It might have walked into his pocket by itself. At the sight of the razor at least fifteen others of the male steerage passengers sprang forward. . ** Lind it to me.” “Let me haye a scrape.” “Give me a show.” “T haven’t been shayed for a month.’’ “Me. first,’”? “Me next.” * Look at my face.” cit ‘Ye know, Mulvaney, I have stuck by ye.’? “Don't favor the Dutchman,” So they cried while Mike carelessly held the razor, He seemed grave and unconcerned, but there was a twinkle in his eye which would have warned one fa- ae with his ways that he was about to play a new joke. “How many av ye want to be shaved 7?” he asked, Fully a dozen voices responded in the affirmative. “Have ye lather?” i r In a second, it seemed, a cake of soap was produced, and an impromptu shaving mug formed out of a tin cup, a veteran hair brush being adopted as a means of applying the cold-water suds, Mike caught hold of the apparatus, and said, firmly: “Ye all want to be shaved?” ‘Yes,’ came in chorus. “Ye all want aiquil chances ?” “Yes.” ‘No partiality ?”” “No, “Thin Pll tell ye how I will fix it.” “How ?? “All av vig stand in a row, facing me, wid yez faces turned. left cheek front. I will go along and shave wan side av yez face first upon me downward prog- ress, whin I come up I will take the other cheek.” The idea was agreed to be good, Mulligan’s Boy went adown the row, cleaning one side of the presented faces off. h The end man stood near an open port-hole. | Just as Mulligan’s Boy finished one side of his cheek, and was about to begtn upon the other, the razor, it seemed by accident, fell out of the port-hole into the water. A yell of horror went up from all about. There they were with half-shaved faces, one side clean, one be-whiskered. Nice-looking sights they would make upon their first appearance in the New World, They raved. And stamped. And swore, And cursed Mulligan’s Boy for his stupidity in all sorts of dialects, He was unmoved, for he said he couldn’t help it, accidents would a and so fully fifteen of the steamer’s steerage male passengers dis- embarked half shaven. Mulligan’s Boy was one of the first to get off. He expected to be received by Mr. O'Dowd in grand style. but O’Dowd wasn’t there, the steamer haying made an unusually quick passage, and arriving in New York two days ahead of its usual time. So Mulligan’s Boy decided to drive up to 0’Dowd’s house, which was situated in Varick street, upon the top of an emigrant express wagon, which was already nearly loaded with other emigrants, Mike got upon the seat with the driver. Just as they turned into Greenwhich street the driver paused to put on his gloves, He handed the reins to Mulligan’s Boy. Just then there was a clatter of wheels. a series of cries of ‘‘ Fire!’ and around the corner at full speed came a steam fire-engine. “Get out of the way!’ cried the driver, lashing his em “Get up on the sidewalk with that old scow “* Get out yersilf!”” said Mulligan’s Boy, placidly. The driver didn’t stop to reply. There was a crash of wheels, the heavy machine up- set the light express wagon in a twinkling, and over went trunks, emigrants, and last, but not least, Mulli- gan’s Boy. PART IIL. THE fire-engine did not stop to pick anybody up. It rumbled away, leaving a trail of smoke and flery sparks in its wake, ‘ a; : Mulligan’s Boy at first thought that he was bookea for angels’ land sure; for when he had tumbled off of. the express wagon jhe landed right.upon his head upon the cobple-stones, and if his head hadn’t been of - good old Irish oak, it would have been split sure. , The driver was the first man up to his feet, He danced around, and shook his fist at the retreat-. ing fire-engine, and then turned his attention to Mul- ligan’s aoe i si “You blockhead! you big-mouthed, clownish,. gawky son-of a meat-block!’’ he cried, “yer orter go. down to ther dock, chuck yerself off, en say: ‘ Here goes nothing!’ ” j ; “What for?” Mulligan’s Boy asked, getting up and rubbing his head. “What for? Oh, you don’t know,” sarcastically answered the driver, ‘‘of course yer don’t. Yer @ nice sweet-eyed little prayer-meeting chap, and yer orter be treated to a piece of pie. Why in blazes don’t yer get out of ther way??? Av what?’? “The fire-engine!” “ Faix, 1 didn’t know what it wur. I thought I had as good aroight to the road as that fellow wid the foire-escape hat.” “Well, yer found yer didn’t? Who's goin’ to pay for ther wagon ?” Mulligan’s Boy politely said he didn’t know. He wished, however, that he did, so he could tell the river. “ Look at it,” went on the driver, surveying the old express chariot, which was pretty well broken up, a eg being off, the shaft broken, and one side stove ; * that’s a pretty ruin, ain’t it? My whole business is burst up.” : _ “Nothing ther matter wid ther horse,” satd Mike. “Wang the horse!) said the driver. “I can get @ horse for five dollars, but wagons cost money.”’ “Tm sorry.” 4 ae be co Where are yer goin’ ter?” “Mr, O’Dowd’s.” “The alderman?’ “Yes.” “Your relative?” { “Kind ay.’? “Well, yer jest bet that little Rate of yours that Vl salt lim for the wagon. - say, young sham- rock, yer better fly.”” , 3 “How the devil can I? Do ye take me for a burrid?” “a ; “Skip.” + Mulligan’s Boy gravely proceeded to skip a few steps. upon the sidewalk. *T could put more grace into me movements ifI had a rope,’’ he said. ‘What else can I do to obloige e 7? The driver whistled softly. “Well, you do take the frost-cake,” he remarked. “Tf anybody ever asks you what is the difference between you and a fool, tell them there ain’t any. I har you to get away from here or-you’ll get laid out.’ ‘‘ Shure I can’t be laid out whin I ain’t dead.” “You'll be soon enough. The greenhorns are get- ting ready to place you ona shutter.” The driver’s words were true. Several of the occupants of the wagon had suffered various bruises and cuts by the upset, and nota few boxes and trunks.had been split open, They were mad at the author of the catastrophe, whom they took to be, rightly, Mulligan’s Boy, and they were preparing to make it sort of unpleasant for im, He divined so by their angry looks and fierce gest- ures, and he made up his mind to get away as fast as possible. 4 He; dragged his trunk from out of the pile in the street, and ran away as fast as possible, pursued by shouts and a crowd of stones, He ran till he was out of breath, and then putting his trunk down, paused to rest. Presently a couple of | flashily-dressed: men came along. They looked at Mike, whispered for a few seconds, and then one of them came up as. to Mike. sf i “ My son,” he said, ‘‘do you want to e half a dollar?” 3 Ove “ How ?”) Mike asked. : : ¥ ‘Just take this note (the fellow handed Mike a piece of folded paper) to Mr. Thomas Collins, and tell him Mr. Mud sent you with it, Itis an order for a dozen Keely Motors,” “Yes, sur; where will I foind Mr. Collins ?”” The man pointed to a building about eight stories high, a regular nest of offices, such as you will find in lower New York. ‘““You walk up to the top floor,”’ said he, ‘and the first door that you come to—kick at it, Kick real hard. Don’t knock. Here's your half-dollar,’? “Thanks. sor, But me thrunk?’”
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& MULLIGANS BOY. * We'll mind it."’ “ Thanks,'? Mulligan’s Boy grinned as he walked over to the building, and felt the silver piece which he so tightly held clasped. He wasn’t used to having much money; foreign boys are not half so well supplied with spending money as our American lads, and that half-dollar was almost a fortune to Mike. “Tt is luck lam having at the very start,’ said he. “Half a doilar for jest a little errand.” He entered the building, and religiously tramped up the eight long stairways. Of course he might have taken the elevator, but he knew just as much about elevators as & cow does of stealing apples. “They have probably stepped away for a dhrink,”’ be said, ‘‘I will wait.” He waited for a full hour. * Gradually he began to realize that he might wait till he was bald-headed before those men came back. An Italian peanut seller upon the corner had been curiously regarding him. He presently approached. ‘Hi, Johnny,” said he (in New York every boy who’s name 1s not known is always called Johnny), ‘“* whatta you waita for?” U Mulligan’s Boy related his story. The Italian smiled a pleasing smile which showed his white teeth olf to best advantage. “You never see trunka again,” he spoke. “Why not?’? All that he was clad in was his trousers, undershirt * to work upon: them. The first door he came to was a plain white one, which said “ Janitor’ upon it. He recollected the message-sender’s orders to “kick and he kicked,. He nearly shivered one of the lower panels with his heavy brogan, The door was opened. A burly German rushed out and caught Mike by the ear, “You young rascal!’’ said he, “vot you means by gicking at dot door?” ‘Lave go me ear!’ roared Mike. “ Gick my door, vill you 2” “JT wurtould to.” “You vos?! IS ae yer Oh jin eman. He sent me wid a message. wu.’ The German, who was the janitor of the apartment, jet go of Mike’s ear,’and took the message. *Dhomas Gollins,” read he. ‘Himmel, vas dey vorking dot oldt schoke ub again? Yoost you go back to der veller vat send you, und say dot Mr. Gollins vas - deat, Dot he vell through his vest und got a proken spine, und say, young veller |’ Z “ Well, sor,” * Nefer you gick at somepody’s door again, or some- peas vill. brobably come oud und gick your head of, | Yorkers vas a dangerous set of beobles to fool mid. With which remark the door was slammed in Mike’s face, and he went slowly down-stairs again. Comaing out of the door-way, he looked across the street for the two men. . Tle didn’t see them, because they were not there. Neither was his tronk. Yet Mike was not alarmed. Here it li wy te od = eo aon “Those fellas putta up a job on you.” “What do ye mane?” “Steala trunka. Skippa! They senda you to noa- body—then getta away with trunka., Deya tieves,’’ “Thieves 1)? ‘*"Yeg,?? “But they lukked Ioike noice jintlemen—rale quali- ty people.” “May looka so. No bea, said. Tella what you doa.” ‘wWhat?? “Go to Pleeca headquarters, Tella chiefa.?? Mike realized that he was a yictim, and his only re- source, as the Italian suggested, was to appeal to the police, for he knew enough for that, ‘“« Where is police headquarters?’ he inquired. The Italian pointed vaguely up Broadway. “Datta way,” Without waiting for more explicit direction Mike hurried up Broadway till he got to Barclay street. It suddenly occurred to him that it would be a good idea to ascertain more definitely the situation of the headquarters. Turning the corner of Broadway and Barclay, he saw an elderly gentleman, carpet-bag in hand, rushing wildly down the street, on his way, probably, to the ferry to catch a boat, Mulligan’s Boy yelled at him. ““Hey | hey!” he cried, The man ites short. “Did you call me?” he asked. ‘“Yes, sir.?? “What for?" “T.want to ask you a question.’ “Hurry up.’ “Where is police headquarters?" The old fellow uttered an exclamation of disgust, Alla beats, tieves, as I , and socks. The boys grabbed for his different articles of apparel, and went briskly They dusted, and brushed, and ‘scraped with great zeal, “You over-grownh jackass,’’ said he, “‘ was that all you've stopped me for, and me with only three min- utes to catch a boat? Get out of my way, you skulk- ing clod-hopper, or I’ll run over you !’’ So speaking, he dashed by Mike, nearly upsetting him, and continued on his way. = Mike scratched his head as he looked at the receding gure. “He needn’t have got so mad about it,’’ said he; “it was only a simple query I put to him. But, faix, he seemed to get as woild as a stheer, Perhaps, tho’, it is but the custom ay the counthry,” Wondering, but still not discouraged by the non- success of his venture, he resolved to speak to the next person who came ne At the time of our story t ie pool-rooms, since sup x ~ WZ Ws i yl i pressed, were in full blast in Barclay street, and when Mike was in the vicinity a big race, one on which piles of money was wagered, was just being run at Saratoga. The next person to whom Mike spoke was one of the horse-racing betters, who came rushing out of the pool-rooms. ° Sir,” Mike begged, ‘‘ will you please tell me where pol—— Of course he meant to say police headquarters. But it so happened that there was a horse in the race called ‘‘ Policy,’ and when Mike uttered the first syl- lable—‘‘ pol ?)—the man, taking him for one of his own stripe, inferred that his query was in regard to the race. “Policy’s third,” he replied, “ Hifalutins first. and Duke of Norfolk second; Miss Blanche distanced.” Mike looked at him as if he was a lunatic. “What can he mean?” asked he of himself; “‘ faix, it is crazy must he be? 1 will ax him agin.” Iie did so. He followed after the fellow and once more asked: “ Where is pol——” “Didn’t J tell you once!” angrily asked the gambler, as he recognized Mike. “Policy is third.” “Third what?” “ Horse, of course.” “Who's spaking av horses?" “ Ain’t you ?”? “Nota bit. Iax ye a question, and ye begin talk- ing about Policy. Who is Policy ?” 7 “ Burleigh’s y mare, sired by Leamington. She took the Flash Stakes at Coney Island.” “T don’t care if she tuk the beefsteaks at Donegal. I want to ax ye where pol——’” “Oh, you be ——!" was the horseman’s reply, as he hurried on,
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. Mulligan’s Boy scratched his head forthe second time. “America is a great place,” soliloquized he. ‘‘ Here T have axed a civil question of two different men, and not a civil answer do I get, But I will try once more.”? i The third time, which all say is the most successful, he had better luck, He encountered a citizen who not only told him where police headquarters was, but how to get there. ‘Go across to Park Row,’’ said the citizen, ‘“‘take a Third or Fourth avenue car, a red or yellow car, ride up the Bowery to Houston street, and then walk across to Mulberry street.” Mike thanked him, and navigated across the City Hall Park all right. | The alderman gazed at the blackened-eyed, bloodied-nosed, cut-lipped He got on to a Third avenue car bound up-town and rode up to Houston street, at which street he alighted, There was a crowd of newsboys, bootblacks and street gamins upon the corner. Mike’s air and appearance gave him right away for a greenhorn, and he was at once spotted as fair game ty the boys, They went for him at once. “Shinet? ‘Black yer boots!’” ¥ bet polish!’ “Stove polish!’ “Brush yer hat!” “Olean yer coat!’ “Take off der dust, sir!’ The last interrogation of the many uttered by the crowd caught Mike. It tickled his vanity to be ad- dressed as ‘‘ sir.?? He hesitated. The boy who hesitates gets left. ‘ In a twinkling he was surrounded, faitly encom- passed, by all of the youthful gang. They pressed about him, and Mike, selecting the biggest asked where police headquarters was. “Wot for?” asked the lad, a bootblack known to his confreres as ‘‘ Reddy the Baby.” Simple Mike related his tale. a) Laie the Baby’? heard it with an air of great ravity. ane Yer wuz played for a sucker nice,” he commented, when the narration was finished, ‘and yer are right in going ter police headquarters. But, first, 1’ give yer @ pointer. “ é “Tam much obliged to ye,’’ Mike answered, “but what wud I do wid it? If ye will kape it for me till afther I get to me uncle’s, I will accept it with playsure.”” a HH * Accept what?” asked ‘‘ Reddy the Baby,” actually bewildered. ““The dog !’”? “Wot dog ?” ““Didn’t ye say ye wud give me a pointer ?”’ Reddy looked at our hero with pity. ‘** Well yer are fresh as a daisy,’’ spoke he. did you come from ?”’ ‘“Treland,”? **T suspected it wuz Newark, but it’s all the same. By pointer I mean a steer.” “Thanks to ye again,’’ Mike courteously answered, “but T have no use for cattle av any sort.”? Reddy groaned. “Yer too innocent to live,’’ remarked he; ‘‘yer “ Where HVULATESNEDIVEREATULAUIGGRUDEERM A apparition before him, answer: “ ‘Mulligan’s Boy!” can’t tumble ter slang fora pop-corn. Yer want, yer say, eo go to police headquarters ?”” Myeg.? “You just landed?” “Yeu.” “An? yer wur going ter police headquarters just as you are?’ ** Av coorse.”” Reddy’s tone became impressive, and a sly wink at his friends was also impressive. “Yer orter thank yer stars,” he said. ‘For what?” asked Mulligan’s Boy. “Yer blind luck.’ “In what way ?”” “Meeting me,’’ “Why ?”? “Look at yer piano-boxes—yer feet-coverers—yer shoes. Dey’re dirty, ain’t dey?” Mike was forced to own, after a brief survey of his boots, that they were certainly far from clean. As mud-gatherers they seemed a success. “ An’ yer clothes and hat,” went on Reddy, “ are full uv dust. Dey look as ifyer went to bed in an ash-cart last night. Now ifyer had went up to police head- quarters looking that way, wot do yer s’pose would have been done wid yer?’? “What?” “You'd been jugged.”’ “What's that?” “Sent up. Ten days at least.’’ Reddy’s expression, of course, was all Romany to Mike and it was only after a diversified explanation that he realized what Reddy meant. He took the truthful Reddy's explanation for gospel truth, and shuddered to think what a narrow escape he had had from imprisonment. “Tis mesilf who is indebted to ye,” he said; “but how will I clane mesilf?” Reddy’s reply was business-like: ‘““How much money have ye?” asked he. Mike produced the forty-five cents which was left over from the half-dollar taken away from him by the two rascals who had got away with his trank. There were several pounds of English coins in his pants pocket, but for a wonder he was shrewd enough not to produce it. Reddy’s small, cunning eyes lighted up as he beheld the coins. “Dat ain’t much,’’ he said; ‘‘ but seeing dat yer are a stranger, and Irish, and I’m Irish myself, I'll fix yer up, for us Irish allus stick together, My frens here will help.” Mulligan’s Boy felt profoundly grateful to Reddy, and he hastened to express his thanks. ! yet tH AON a y 1) “Who are ye?” he asked, Back came the “ Dat’s all right,’ was Reddy’s answer; ‘' but dis cor- ner is too public. Jest move farder down.” Led by Reddy, Mike in their midst, the coterie of Tagamufiins proceeded to the center of the block, away from the hurry and bustle ofthe great east side avenue, “Now,” said Reddy, authoritatively, when they had reached a spot he deemed suitable for his designs, “ort wid yer coat.” “What for?’ Mulligan’s Boy asked, “To brush it. Of wid yer shoes and yer vest.’’ “ An? yer hat,’ piped another one of the crowd. Mulligan’s Boy demurred. “Why can’t | keep me garments on?’ he asked. “Do you wish to give it away that ye have just landed ?”’ asked Reddy, ‘* Av coorse not.” “Then take off your duds, and be quick, or we can’t finish the job fer yezin time. Der Duke uv Perlice will be gone away from headquarters.” ‘Do they have dukes here 7”? “Dukes? Well, I should Figgle. The pavements are studded wid’em! They fall off uv every branch,” “T thought there were no nobility in America,” “Yer thought wrong. The feller upon der corner yonder is a baron, and the old lady selling apples is a duchess. Swipe off yer duds; do yer hear?” Mike obeyed. He was quickly hatless, And shoeless, And coatless, And minus a vest. All that he was clad in was his trousers, undershirt, and socks, The boys grabbed for his different articles of ap- parel, and went briskly to work upon them. “we dusted, and brushed, and scraped with great
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6 MULLIGAWN'S BOY —] Suddenly Reddy gave a yell. “*Kire |” cried he. The next second Mulligan’s Boy was alone. The boys and his clothes had vanished like chaff be- fore the autumn’s gale. Their retreating figures could be just seen dodging across the Bowery, some lost to sight in the mass of vehicles and street-cars. For a while Mike stood like a statue—veritably a petrified Mick. “Be the tails av me grandfather's coat!’’ he at last exclaimed; ‘they have stole me clothes, and me hat, and me boots!” His lamentations about his losses soon drew a arowd, to whom he related his tale. ae to say, it evoked laughter instead of sym- athy. “You ought to be up to those rackets,” said a man, laughing. * You'll soon get your eye teeth cut in this ‘placid little village.” As the speaker finished, a policeman came up, hav- ing first found out what was the matter from a small boy upon the outskirts of the crowd. If it had been a desperate fight or a bloody murder probably he would not have appeared. ; i “Bere!” exclaimed the copper, clubbing his way to where Mike stood, and clutching him by the arm, “who are you??? , “Mulligan’s Boy,’’ was Mike’s reply. “* Where's Mulligan?’ “In Dublin, sir.’” “In Dublin! Well, what the blazes are you doing here in this undress? Yer can’t practice for the ballet here,’ Several guffaws burst from the crowd, which put the peeler in a good humor. } * Yes,’ he went on, hoping to catch another laugh, “if yer want to be a statoo go up to ther marble-yard and ax fur a job on top of a monument,” The spectators grinned, and the officer felt that he ought to be humorist instead of a Paladin of the Lo- cust. “Now, tell me, Johnny,” said he, ‘all about it.” Mike proceeded to. : He related his adventures in such a way that the policeman could not restrain a smile. “Well, the only way 1 see to do,’ he said, “is to waltz you away to a dungeon cell. Come along— wist! wist!’’ PART Ik. > THE comic policeman gently wafted Mulligan’s Boy ‘along by the arm, squeezing that member until the tears came into the lad’s eyes, which result seemed to please the officer highly. _ ‘What ails yer? Does it hurt? why don’t yer have @ ¢ast-iron arm? Who told yer to cry?’ were the re- marks rattled out volubly by the policeman. _ He tightened his grip more, and Mulligan’s Boy winced and wriggled. * “That's right,’ the policeman said; “try to get away, will yer? ay to escape the custody of the Jaw !—and he tapped Mulligan’s Boy upon the legs with his club several times. “ Bedad,”” Mulligan’s Boy replied, ‘I wish f had a sorick.”? * What for?’ ; ’ “T wud break yer head wid it !”” The policeman nearly fainted. “You audacious young rascal!’ he remarked ; ‘“preak my head, would yer! Well, yer jest like all the rest. Yer will grow up, kill somebody, and get hung at the city’s expense, and it will serve the city right for letting foreigners land in America. What are yer looking at?” The last question’ was occasioned by a glance at the eyes of Mike. which, big as saucers, were staring around the corner, ‘That's bim,” was Mike's reply. “Who ?? “The feller that took me clothes.’’ *< Where ?”? “ Roight around the corner. he's hoiding beyant a coal-box.”” Sure enough, if was Reddy the Baby. He had witnessed Mike's arrest, and out of curiosity had fartively followed him to see what would come of the affair, f , The policeman thought{ that he might just as well make two arrests as one, ! ¥ “Stay where you are,” spoke he to Mike, as he re- jeased the latter’s arm, ‘or I'll kill yer !”” ‘Then he made a sudden dive for Reddy. Reddy’s gnilty conscience made him suspect the <officer’s errand: Vie lit out from behind the coal-box and ran up the street like a deer. Accidents, however, will occur, and Reddy met with one. A bare-headed lady, rather fleshy, came out of a fenement-house, evidently bound—at least the pitcher which she bore in .her hand indicated as much—to some near-by beer warehouse., Reddy ran against her. The shock caused the pitcher to fall down upon the sidewalk, and when a pitcher tries conclusions with a sidewalk the sidewalk generally gets the best of it. At least this sidewalk did, for the pitcher scattered into about fifty different pieces. The lady who owned it was not ofa meek and lovely disposition. She did not beg Reddy's pardon eused. Reluctantly not. Instead, quick as a flash, she hauled off-with a hand about as big as the dash-board of an ash-cart, anid He just saw me, and and ask to be ex- fetched him a slap upon the ear which knocked him over a hydrant into the middle of the street. “ake that, ye young devil!” cried she. “Break me pitcher, will ye, wid yea reckless running forninst dacint people. Faix, if ye wur my bye I’d wallop yea wid a strap till ye’d have to walk upon yez hands if ye wanted to walk at all. Do ye suppose I kape a mu- seum ay pitchers that ivery bye who comes along can break wan?’? “Get out, yer ould fence-picket,” roared Reddy, “git a chisel, and scrape der moss offen yer teeth, Yer ould cart-rung, ’U——” _ Reddy’s eloquence was suddenly stopped by the po- liceman grasping him. “Leave go,” Reddy said, changing his tone into a whine. ‘I ain’t done nufting.”” “Oh, no! of course not, you never do do anything,” answered the comic policeman. ‘‘I’m just arresting you for fun, I’m only going to take you to the station- house, and give yer a bouquet of roses, and a nice Jit- tle blue ticket with ‘Good boy’ onto it.’” J “Ah, wat are yer giving me?’ Reddy sniffed, “Wat do yer want me for?” Ke er didn’t steal that young Mick’s clothes, did yer?” “Just for a joke?’ Reddy pleaded. ‘Jest for a joke,” repeated the policeman, ‘‘and it was a nice joke. But it won’t be halfas nice a joke as the one the judge will play on yer. He’s an awful fun- ny old cuss, and he’ll fire you up on the island for six months just for a joke. Come along.” " He proceeded to drag Reddy along, as if that young gentleman was a bag of salt, which operation was audibly applauded by the fleshy lady whose pitcher had been broken. ‘Take him in, officer, alanna,’’ spake she, “ and if me testimony is necessary to hang I will be at perlice coort before the milkmen are up.”? “Ah, go broil yer tongue and sell it fer sassage,” was Reddy’s last conversational shot as he was drag- ged away. or. ae The policeman merrily waltzed him up to where Mulligan’s Boy had been left. : Mulligan’s Boy wasn’t there, He had disappeared, faded away as it were, like the dew before the ray of the morning sun, and left not a trace behind. the The comic peeler scratched his head. ““Who would have believed,”” he soliloquized, “ that the Mick had sense enough to scoot? scooted.” Then a ray of relief came to him. : . He had Reddy safe enough, one prisoner at least was within his grip. A “Yer desprit young villain, come along!’ he re- marked, and forthwith was Reddy yanked off to the But he has station-house, where, after a complaint being lodged against him, he was consigned to a prison cell, » Meanwhile Mulligan’s Boy was gone. But where? That is our duty to tell. When left by the po seconds stood stock still. His posture was noticed by a short, fat German boy, who, having been ordered by his employer, who kept a store a few blocks below, to carry a message with the utmost speed, had calmly put the message in his pocket and followed Mulligan’s Boy and the police- man, @ trait often to be observed in errand boys, e Se peas he asked of Mulligan’s Boy, ‘vot vos you oing ?”” Waiting.” “Vot for?” “Till he was come back.” “ Der boliceman ??? : 2 ¢ ‘Yes, i “Vosn’t you arresded ?? sess “Yes? “Und der boliceman vos avay ?” ‘Yes.’ “Vell, you vos a fool to sday here. Skib righd avay owit., You vant to get locked ub py a |sdation-house and get a brison cell?" This awful prospect appalled our hero. He concluded that the German boy’s advice was good; that he would adopt it. He did. He scud away down Houston street until he was very near Sullivan street. There, however, were foes upon his track of which he little guessed. Reddy the Baby was not the only one who had fol- lowed bim and the comic policeman. In fact, the whole of the gang who had robbed him ofhis apparel, had “stealthily been upon his trail,” as the dime novelists say. They had witnessed Reddy’s arrest, and with that Swift intuition natural to boys, came to the conclusion that Mike was responsible for it. They came to one unanimous conclusion. Reddy’s arrest, upon the juvenile principle of hit one, hit all, must be avenged, and Mike must be the one upon whom the vengeance must fall, Therefore when Mike paused, after his hurried flight, to regain breath, he was attacked upon all sides by the youth- ful brigands. The attack was over in about a minute. At the ex- piration of that period, he was prostrate upon his spine in the mud-gutter while the avengers were fled, Just as Mulligan’s Boy, with blackened eyes, blood- ied nose, and swelled cheek, not to speak of a cut lip, was picking himself upin a dazed sort of way, a po- liceman came along. This policemanwas a vara avis, He ‘tended strictly to his duty and took Mulligan’s Boy, without unnecessary dialogue, straight to the sta- tion-house of his precinct. There our hero, who had sufficiently recovered from ~oe liceman he had for several the effects of his assault to intelligibly converse, gave to the amused sergeant at the desk an account of his adventures. The sergeant, strange to say, was & man of sense, and he ordered two of the reserve force to take Mike at once to the residence of his uncle, Alderman Pat- rick O'Dowd. So the carriage was ordered, for it was decided that Mike in his present guise would not exactly add a graceful glare to any street through which he might promenade, and he and the two policemen getting in, the vehicle rolled rapidly away. While the vehicle is rolling away, let us speak for 4 bit about Alderman Patrick O'Dowd and wife, The alderman in many ways closely resembled 2 bantam rooster. He was short, like a bantam roost. er. He was fiery and quick-tempered, like .a bantam rooster, and he was game to the back-bone, Also like a bantam rooster, and another trait pos- sessed by a bantam rooster, he was proud of himself. He had risen from nothing, and was glad ofit. The biggest man that the world ever produced, in Alder- man O’Dowd’s eyes, was Alderman O’Dowd himself. Yet, in spite of his selfconceit, he had a heart as big as his body, although he tried, as a rule, to con- vince everybody to the direct opposite, Mrs. O'Dowd had a figure. That is to say, she was tall, stately, and towered above Mr. O'Dowd like a shot-tower above a shanty. On the strength of her figure she was aristocratic— and so Mr, O'Dowd frequently remarked: i “Tig a queen av beauty is Cordelia, but I will have He one her down. Her ideas are too elevated for me- silf, Yet, strange to say, Mr. O’Dowd never did take Mrs. O’Dowd down—except in conversation, : When we introduced them to our readers the alder- man had just arrived from an animated session of the eee of Aldermen, and he was hot and heated and wrathy. : He had flung his coat under the sofa, his gloves un- der the bed, and slammed his umbrella into a corner with a spiteful yehemence which threatened to break “every rib. { ; His wife noticed that he was agitated. _ “What is if ails you, Patrick?” she asked. _“Nothing,’? was his reply, as he viciously threw his hat against a chair, and then picked it ip Again. cock- ing it fiercely upon one ear. ‘I ain’t mad; I’m just as serene as a mill-pond wid a roof overit. I’m joyous. bedad, for [have cause tobe! Cordelia, ye are wel! versed in vocabulary?” sai “Three years in Miss Skimipole’s Academy for Chil- dren of the Nobility ought to inculcate learning in a person,”? simpered Mrs. O'Dowd. “Why do you sk 2” ; : kK 2” Hees ght 2 4 tay sae “Bekase I want to arrive at the definition av a word.” ; ae “ What word ? Ty acquainted wid Alderman “ How 2? eae , z “He called me by an epithet av spiteful malice.” “ What was it 2’? ‘He said I wur a cynesophalus.?? “What's that?” * Cordelia, if | knew I wud not ax ye. A man loike mesilf, Kicked out avy me parental abode at siven years av existence by an intoxicated father wid a cork leg, is not expected to be a directhory av language. If ye are not aware what a cynesophalus is, lux in the Hn- cyclopedia and see.”’ Mrs. O'Dowd obeyed. She took down a volume from the book-case, aad turned to the letter 0. After turning the pages and scanning the columns closely, she finally found the object of her search. ‘ Gynesophalus,”’ she read—‘t a dog-faced baboon.”’ ‘A what?” yelled O'Dowd. 5 * Dog-faced baboon,”’? repeated Mrs. O’Dowd, refer- ring to the encyclopedia, to be sure, Tt was hard for the alderman to restrain his emo- tion He gritted his teeth, and, grey speaking, tore his hair, for he really hadn’t but one or two hairs to tear, “Tam a dog-faced baboon, am I?’ he said, delia, spake the truth. Do I luk loike it?” Mrs. O'Dowd, wife-like, replied that he didn’t, which answer seemed to assuage Mr. O’Dowd’s wrath to a certain extent. He walked up and down the floor for a while, pon- dering over the matter. Finally he came to a conclusion. “ Bedad, Cordelia,” he remarked, “ifI shud call O'Riley to account for his words, it wud be acknowl- edging that I considered mesilf upon a par av social equality wid him. Wouldn’t it?” “Of course,’ answered Mrs. O’Dowd. “Tam not,’ “You are far superior, Patrick. Wasn't his fathera dog-catcher ?”” “Roight ye are. As a gintleman, and a self-mads gintleman—for at twelve years av age I wur garglim dhirty dishes in a dime restaurant, not to spake ay “ Oor-
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MULLIGAN’S BOY._ 7 blacking the cook’s boots for fifteen cints a wake—I wud be wrong to consider him me aiquil. Faix, for every penny he has I can flash up a dollar bill.” “T know it, Patrick,’ Mrs. O’Dowd replied, while a shade of vexation could be seen upon her brow, ‘but I wouldn’t speak so much about it.” “ About what, Cordelia?’ 4 “Your plebeian origin. Suppose you were in a dime restaurant and did black the cook’s boots, what is the use of you telling everybody about it? You should remember my feelings, My first husband, Mr. O'Dowd, was an artist.” As she uttered the words she assumed an attitude which showed off her figure to best advantage, an at- titude which seemed to say: ‘Look at me! Look at my figure. How proud you ought to be that I have condescended to be your wife.” O'Dowd as he usually was, felt crushed. “Me colleen,” he said, ‘I did not mane to offend ye. Ican't help betng self-made.” “Bnt don’t tell everybody,’ retorted Mrs. O’Dowd, unbending a trifle. ‘And, by the way, Patrick 77 “What, me leddy love ?”” “The steamer has arrived to-day.” ‘“ What steamer 7” “The one which Michael arrives in.” * What Michael?” “Michael Mulvaney, my nephew, the one we are to take care of.” “Tt wur not due till to-morrow.” “True, but it arrived to-day.” “Whin ?” “This morning,” : “And it is now six o'clock,’ said her husband, pulling out a watch about as large as himself; “‘ where can he be?” : “It is for you to find out,” was the reply he got. “Probably, not.seeing you at the Garden, he has gone to some hotel, from whence he will send us news of his safe arrival. Do you know I can see Michael?” ‘““Where?? questioned Mr. O’Dowd, rushing to the window and peerin; anxiously out into the street. “Shure, I can’t. All I can behold is a coal-cart stuck in the car track,” “JT see him,’ dignified), visually, but ee: e is a-pale, curly-haired, blue-eyed boy, with the stamp of intellectuality ex- pressed upon his forehead. His carriage is aristo- cratic, bis mien dignified. He will be——”? There was a sound of carriage-wheels outside, fol- lowed by a violent pull at the door-bell. “Who can it be?” was Mrs. O’Dowd’s woman-like query. ‘ : “Tt may be a reporter coming toget me views in re- gard to the measure intrujooced “i Alderman Swee- ney, about the propriety av drounding ail av the Chi- nese in the East river,” O’Dowd said, as he rushed to the glass and adjusted his collar, ‘* lar will span ee to a premature grave.” ate in will I puta thirteen-inch collar upon a n-inch neck-band. I feel as if | wur being garroted,” j While he was speaking a knock was audible at the oor. fie ‘Come in!” cried Mrs, O'Dowd. A procession of three solemnly entered. Two policeman formed two-thirds of the procession. The other third was Mulligan’s Boy. ; y They stopped in the center of the apartment, while the alderman glared in surprise at them. ‘“‘ What does this mean?” questioned he, One of the policemen responded. “Are you Alderman O'Dowd?” asked he. , The alderman squared his auniiora aha braced himself back. ‘ 7 % “Tf any other man except mesilf says he is Alder- man O'Dowd, he is a liar,” was the little sturdy’s re- ply. ‘* What do you want av me?’ The policeman, by way of reply, pointed to Mulli- gan’s Boy. “This fellow was found just as he is,” (here he pro- ceeded to give a full account of the finding of Mulli- gan’s Boy), ‘sand he says he wants to see you.” - The alderman gazed at the blackened-eyed, bloodied- nosed. cut-lpped apparition before him. , ‘Who are ye?’ he asked. reo — = oe “Mo n’s Boy !’ ‘ bps | don't know ulligan, and I don’t know his boy,” rejoined the alderman. ‘ What is yez name?’ “Michael Mulvaney!’ The answer appalled the alderman. He looked helplessly at his wife. She was just about as discomfited as he was. She had pictured, as has already been related, a pale, curly-haired, blue-eyed boy, with a stamp of in- tellectuality impressed upon his forehead, as her nephew. Instead she beheld a frowzy-headed, ruddy- eheeked youth, with the stamp of a fist remarkably evident upon his countenance. “Are you Michael Mulvaney, son of Michael Mulva- ney and my sister, Teresa Mulvaney 2”) she asked. “ Yis,’? stolidly answered Mike. “You arrived this morning?’ “Vis.” “Jn the same way I behold you?? “ No.’? After which answer Mike proceeded to relate to his aunt his adventures. The alderman listened with a smile of joy upon his face. Here was a chance to take down his wife’s aristocratic pretentions, and he was sincerely glad of it, for he was but human, He dismissed the policeman, and quietly said: “Bedad, Mrs. O'Dowd, Ji nephew does ye credit. His mien is extremely dignified. If he only had a second black eye he wud be taken for a prize- foighter.”? © Mrs. 0’Dowd’s only reply was a glance, corrected his wife, ‘‘not rdelia, that col- | But it was a glance which made the alderman quail and shiver. In it he discerned at least a dozen curtain lectures. “ |_I just spoke in fun,’ he pleaded. “Fun in its place is all right,’ icily said his better- half, ‘‘Mr. O’Dowd, you have a spare overcoat, have you not?” ‘Yes? “Then give it to Michael, and take him out to some near-by clothing store and procure suitable apparel for him.” The idea appeated good to the alderman, and he proceeded to act upon it. He took Mike to a near-by clothing store, where ready-made suits were for sale at all times, and Mike was soon inducted into one. A iagst furnishing goods store was also visited,and suitable underwear provided for our hero. And that night at the supper table, in spite of his facial disfigurements, he presented quite a respecta- ble appearance. So at least concluded the alderman, as he stealthily regarded him over the top of the water- piteher, which, standing in front of him, nearly hid m from sight. Yet the alderman’s mind was not tranquil. He felt uneasy about the new acquisition to his family circle. What in the world was he to do with the boy? Suddenly an idea occurred to him. He kept, as we believe we have mentioned, a liquor store. Asa rule, all New York aldermen keep liquor stores. ‘“Michael, me bye,” he said patronizingly, ‘what views have ye for yez future career in loife?”’ k “HWaint got none,” calmly answered Mike, his month full of cake. > “Ye haven’t a longing for any particular vocation ?” “No, sir.’ ‘Wan would suit as well as another?’ ‘“Yis, sir,” replied Mulligan’s Boy, in a burst of con- fidence, “‘as longas I have nothing to do and plenty’ av money.”’ This candid avowal staggered the alderman for a while, but he quickly rallied, “The rayson I spake to you thus,” went on 0’Dowd, “sis bekase I have a place for ye.” “What sort of a place?” interrogated Mrs. O’Dowd. “As second bar-keeper, my dear,’ replied Mr. O'Dowd. .‘‘ Young Denny Sullivan, who formerly filed the place, acted as referee ata cock-fight last ses His duties began at ten, and at half-past eleven he wur in the hospital!’ > received fairly made The look which the alderman ‘him shake in his boots. ‘* Michael a bar-Keeper!”’ she shrieked. ‘My nephew a mser of drinks! No, sir, I thank you. He shall be a gentleman.” J : “That's it,” put in Molligan’s Boy, as he engulfed a pickle, “that is just what I want to be—a gentleman —and wear a goold watch and towels over me shoes!” a PART IV. ‘ ' THE alderman was slightly astounded at the reply of his hopeful charge. Hig Figuratively speaking, he rubbed his feathers and glared at Mulligan’s Boy. “Ye wantto bea gintleman, do ye, and wear dia- monds and towels over yezshoes?”’ repeated he. ‘‘ Be- dad, aspirations av that sort frequently lead to being a jail-bird and wearing a ball and chain,’ ‘ Patrick!” said Mrs. O’Dowd, warningly. But the alderman disregarded her word. “How ould are ye??? queried he of Mike, who was making the cake-basket look as if it had been visited by @ hurricane. “ “ Rifteen—near sixteen,” was the reply. O’Dow4a, impressively. “In yez skin, I suppose,” stolidly said Mike. : “J wasn’t wanting to be a gintleman!”? thundered the alderman. “I wur picking cinders at the dump. _| As for diamonds, I cudn’t have tould wan from a glo- bule of charcoal. If I had found the Koh-i-noor { wud Ke provably thrown it at a dog. *I'wur self-made a “ “Anybody could tell that by the result of the job,” said Mrs. O’Dowd, as she arose with great stateliness, pier ing ber figure to the best advantage, while she bent a g¢ alderman. ; The alderman’s feathers, figuratively speaking again, slunk down. He looked appealingly at his wife. ‘* Cordelia,” he pleaded, ‘you must excuse me; I ralely forgot what 1 wur saying.” “Mr. O'Dowd,” she spoke as she swept out of the room, ‘tis it not humiliation enough for me to be tied to & man whose highest knowledge of art is a red and blue choromo of a race-horse, who has never as- cended farther in science than the correct mixing of ‘agin sour, and who walks placidly and contentedly home with two stuffed roosters, won at a raffle, as ornaments for a lady’s parlor? Mr. O'Dowd, good- day.’”’ 0 saying, she swept majestically out of the room. The alderman gazed after her in silence for awhile. Presently his face assumed an expression. “ Michaek” said he, leaning over to Mulligan’s Boy, “do you know what she is?” “Me aunt,’? answered Mike, as he looked sorrow- fully at the empty pie plate. ““T mane allegorically spaking, Michael, she’s a lily! and don’t ye let it slip yez mimory.” The alderman emphasized his remarks with a blow ue fist upon the table which caused the dishes to rattle. mce—oh, such a glance of scorn upon the “Do Be know where I wur at yez age ? questioned «She's the stateliest woman in all New York,” con- tinued he, “and it is proud am I to be her husband. Whin see promenades up Broadway av a Saturday afthernoon the stage-drivers stop their vehicles and point her out to the passengers. But, Michael, I will tell ye a sayeret.?? ‘ ‘“What?? “ Ye will niver disclose it?’ “Never.” * Honest?” “Hold my leg—cross my heart.” . “She occasionally needs taking down; and, Michael’ —here the alderman impressively lowered his voice— “itis mesilf who is the cuttle-fish to do it. I haven’t did it. as yet, for I hate to mortify a woman; but whin I do do it, she will be crushed,” Having thusly delivered himself, the alderman put on his hat, his coat and gloves, and started out. “JT have to spake at a mating av the Sixth Ward Electric Loight Association. If ye wish to amuse yez- silf, there is a patent medicine almanac upon the table. Study it carefully, and ye will receive informa- tion av great value relative to the cure av spinal meningit 8, Which I belave is an affliction ay the kid- neys. Then the O’Dowd oy a Hardly had he vanished before his wife put her ma- Jestic head in the door. “Michael,” she said, “I am going to a ball this evening. 1 will have to leave you to yourself. By the way, Michael——” “Vis, aunt.’? ‘7 dislike your name of Michael. It is too plebeian, Haven’t you a middle name?” “ Yis, aunt.” “Js—is it Plantagenet, or De Courcey, or Van Al- styne? Say atleast that itis Fitz-Herbert.” “Tt ain’t, aunt.” “ What is it?” “O’Brien.” “Mrs, O'Dowd gave a sigh, “Heavens |’? ejaculated she. ‘‘ Michael O’Brien Mul- yaney! That will never do. I will ask your uncle to use his political influence to have your name changed to Devereaux Claude De Voe, or something like that. Good-night, M-Michael.” os Good-night, aunt.’? ; Mrs. O’Dowd was gone, and Mulligan’s Boy was left to himself. He picked up the patent medicine book and tried to amuse himself by studying the pictures of torpid- livers, cork-screw spines, deformed arms and enlarged hearts, with which that valuable work was adorned, He had just finished a dazed survey of a diphtheriatic ‘throat, when the door opened. A head, black as a lump of charcoal, appeared, It had big white eyes, and regular liver lips, while its nose looked as if it had been mashed flat by some- veya : upon it. her eat mud!’ it said, and then it sud- cay arian aan while the door was slammed vio- ently to. Mike was too surprised at the apparation to make any reply, but stood gazing in open-mouthed wonder at the door, which presently swayed open and the head appeared again. aes “Trisher chew hoss-cars!’? it said, disappearing like lightning. ve “Paix, I must have the noightmare, or the poi has gone to me bhrain,” said Mike, ‘‘ I——’? : ants remarks were cut short by the third entrance of e he: » “Thad a piece of brick, I put it on a stick, _ And I gave it to a fannel-mouthed Mick,” chanted the head. This time it did not go away, but rolled its eyes be bly, and stuck out its tongue diabolically at Mul- ms Boy. “Who are ye?’ faintly he asked. oe By way of reply, the head, followed by a body, came into the room, the whole forming about as comic a little darkey as one could see upon a variety stage, He was dressed in a blue suit, with a very stiff white ~ collar, which seemed to be gerogin Sawin; neck, profusely ornamented with big brass buttons, which he was peneey shining up with his cuffs. “Come in !? said Muiligan’s Boy. The darkey hesitatingly advanced. 5 eee hit me?” asked he. “Nor bust my skull with a plate?’ a No. 1% “3 wu frow me out of de winder?” “No. ’ “ Promise ?” ““ Yes.”? “Take your oath 7? *'Yeu,?? “Solemn oath?” “Yes—yes.’? perce, satisfied, the darkey came in. “JT know youse,” he said, volubly, ‘‘youse Master Mulvaney, de bossesses nephew. Gwine to stay wif us??? ““Who’re ye?’ gasped Mulligan’s Boy. “Der missus calls me Hannibal Africanus, de boss calls me ‘Nigger,’ and de cook calls me a ‘ black devil,” My right name be Pete. Yause kin call me jist wha youse please. * What do ye do ?? ; “Ts’e a page.” “What is that 7’? “T sweep de sidewalk, black the boss’s boots, go out shopping forjio carry de bundles wid de ole gal, an’ wait on de table when dahs comp’ny, Didn't wait on de table to-night.” “Why not?? at his ©
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3 MULLIGAWN’S BUY. “De cook locked me up in de coal-cellar.”” ~ © What for?’ ‘Kase I cut up an ole rubber hose, put de pieces in de meat-pie dis inawning,and de boss nearly bust him jaws trying to eat a hunk. Golly, but it wuz fun |” The darkey laughed till his mouth threatened to split from ear to ear, and a thrill of delight pervaded Mulligan’s Boy. He felt assured that Pete would prove a congenial spirit of mischief. A few minutes’ conversation, not necessary to be re- peated, showed that Mike’s premise was correct. If ever @ spirit of M ‘deviltry lurked in a et At present me and Jimmy are de only ones who b’long to it, fo? we've jest started. Would you like to join?” Mike expressed himself affirmatively, and after be- ing favorably introduced to Jimmy, he was sworn in, and as the third member of the awful organization. Jimmy Maloney, he soon found out, was a son of the gentleman described as O’Dowd’s deadhest enemy. ifever a boy was full of fun, it was Jimmy. Itseemed to be irrepressible with him—to boil and bubble up spontaneously, A joke to him was better than a | Square meal, Yet he was not vicious. It was simply the boy’s nature—the vent of animal stead of three scape-graces, “ hab decided to hab some debbiltry to-night.” “* How ??) asked Mike. ‘“Youse hab obserbed, probably youse habn’t—for oe habn’t been long nulf in New York—dat dis lock am composed ob houses all alike. Dis house an’ Mistah Maloney’s am in de center, We is No, 134, his am No. 136. Dah am a brown horse-block ob stone befo’ Mistah Maloney’s, and a white horse-block ob stone befo’ dis house, and de idea ob de débilfry am dis: We take de number 134 olf ob Our doah and put it on Mistah Maloney’s, and we take de number 136 off ob his doah and put it on ours, Den we change de horse-blocks, for. dey am movable, As fo’ de coon,, that said spirit numbers, dey is only lurked in Pete. Being assured that Mike would be an ally, in- stead of a foe, he grew confidential. “De house next door,’’ said he, ‘is okkerpied by Mistah Maloney.” _.“*Who’s he?’? Mike asked. -“Yer -hev heard ob, deadly enemies?’’ Pete intertogated,: t bait 4: ed ‘Well, do. alder- man’s deadliest “ ene- my isdatsame Mista Maloney.’? ere “Why #7 “Kase last year when de alderman ran fo’ re-election, Mistah Maloney ran against him; and» he nearly baat de boss. Fo’ dat, dey had been. de warmest ob fren’s. fastened on wid screws and——’? Jimmy,at this epoch, produced a secrew- driver from a pocket, “That will get off the mumbers,” he * said. “But what ay it? queried Mulligan's Boy. “ Where does the fun come in??? Pete grinned Jimmy grinned. “You’se unele,”? Pete said, “went. to de Electric Light So- elation, didn’t he?’ “Yis," confessed Mike, “Well, he’s de Head Electric Light—dat is to Say, he’s President.:? “Indade 2??? ~ “Shuah. Aftah de ‘meeting is ober he’) take de whole crowd outan’ set dem up.” and When de boss was out “Faix,. an? what all night, and said dat he was in Mistah Maloney’s house, Mis- tah. Maloney always said datit wuzso; and when Mistah Maloney was out. all night at some gas-light. picnic, de boss always took | his solemn. oath day Mistah Maloney. had been sleeping in his house, But dat was all ober now. It be war to de razor between dem, Dey likes one anudder, much as .a bulldog doe isa tom-. cat Here Pete paused and looked scrutiniz- ingly at Mulligan’s Boy for- a minute, as if he wanted to. tell him something but was half afraid to do it. Presently he ap- peared to make up his mind to risk tne con- sequences, He gave a whistle. It was responded to by a second whistle in the hall, ““K.’? uttered Pete. “ K,’? came from the hall. “'N,’’ said Pete. “0,” finished the unseen voice. . “eno! Correct!” exclaimed the unseen voice. The door, which that evening seemed to be always opening, open- ed again. A lad ofabout Mike’s own age, but with a ul ie PME SE AR A lagi fast ge it itt } yy yuan diay pei 1] | i} 1 + } belt iy (Ul Hiiuitsinatyl Antares pith wets ' aaah itl a } does he want to set thim up for? Gant they. set thimsilves u baad “T’se not speakin about de treated demselves, but. *bout de beverages dat dey consume. You’se ‘scuzable bekase you’se not familiar wid American cus- toms, When I say dat he’ll set dem up, [ mean dat he'll fur- nish de drinks fo’ de - gang.” 4 “Shure, I see,” 1 answered Mike,who really didn’t see at all, but was not going to confess ignorance. “De result ober de setting up,” contin- ued Pete, “is dat he will get slewed,”? 2 ee that 2” ete looked pityin; ly at Mike. ead “Dat’s de result ob foreign education,” he remarked aside to Jimmy. “He don’t understan’. -}nglish; spec dat he was borh in New Jersey. Slew- ed mean dat he will be full.’ “Av what??? “BW. “What does B. W. mane? “Bad whiskey,” A light broke over the obtuse mind of our hero, “Ye mane he will be dhrunk,’? he ex- claimed. “He may not be Re ‘ ay ae) Ne ety vif ! nit eth ee Prt MA ——<$$=— fs i ——| ni { ( i it i ji i iti} il ik i sharper cut and more precocious tace, enter- ed, He was nicely. dressed, and was putf- ing a cigarette with that gusto and relish ‘ which one displays in the enjoyment of a forbidden pleasure, ‘Is it all right?’ asked he, “ Didn’t we gib de sign and de countersign ?”’ Pete be igo ** Dat's efficient proof dat all is right, ain’t it He turned to Mike as he continued: “ Dis gemmen is Jimmy Maloney. Him an’ me is a League ob Death. De object ob de League is fun, en- joyment, and de destruction ob our mutual enemies. De only one dat we hab destroyer yet is Hans Zwingle- bocker’s goat, wot butted me over a truck last Satur- day. We killed him wif——” ‘ Arnesic,” said Jimmy Maloney, in sepulchral tones; ‘“ he kicked up his horns in great agony.” “In great agony,” repeated Pete, plainly enjoying the phrase. “ We’re a powerfub organization, we is. Multigan’s boy began throwing the bricks down the chimney, in which pleasing occupation he was effectively assisted by Jimmy Mahoney. spirits, which could not be repressed or kept down, and were forced to find an egress some way. Mulligan’s Boy and he became fast friends at once. There is a secret bond of brotherhood between mis- chievous small boys which is as ancient as Masonry. Jimmy looked first at Pete, after a few minutes’ conversation, and then at Mulligan’s Boy. fo glances were inquiring, and Pete understood em. Making a rapid gesture at Jimmy, which was equiv- alent to “all right,” he spoke to Mike. “ Youse ami now one ob de League ob Death!” spake 8. Mike said he was in a cheerful tone. He was willing to be anything that furnished fun and enjoyment. “De League,’’ Pete resumed as solemnly as if the society was composed of a hnndred earnest men in- exactly drunk,” Jim- My put in; ‘‘ but he will be nearly so, It will be difficult for him to tell one house from the other.” “Kil dat’s jess it,’ gleefully corroborated Pete. “‘I’se seen him’so often. Fust he gets de bearings ob de horse-block; den he looks at de numbah on de dooh to be suah. Put de numbah in a well, an’ de al- derman would fall into it!” “ But don’t he carry a latch-key?? Mike asked, “Dat’s de beauty ob it,’ smiled Pete. ‘De same key dat fits our doah fits Mistah Maloney’s! "e 'ocks am simultaneous.” Mulligan’s Boy understood it at last. , “That's a good joke,” he said. ‘' We will do it. * They did do it. It was now nearly 10 Pp, M., at which hour the neigh- borhood was quiet. They succeeded in changing the horse-blocks, which were pieces or granite and quite heavy, and ripping
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MULLIGAN'’S BOY. — e eff the number plates, which were readjusted just where they didn’t belong. _ 'fhen they went to bed as quietly as if they had been to Sunday-school all the evening. Mrs, O’Dowd arrived home from the ball, and got in all right, forshe never-noticed the change. She had the locality of her own huuse down too well. About three o’clock, just as the milkmen were begin- hing to sleepily drive after their morning’s milk, a cab rattled up the street. . “ Stop at er white horse-block,’”’ said he. The cab-driver, in obediénce, drove up in front of Maloney’s house, The alderman got out. He was, as Pete had prophesied, pretty full of corn- juice, but yet the horse-block did not seem to be in the WL ' | right place. He looked at it carefully, with that pro- found scrutiny which an inebriate often indniges in. “Whiz is me right han’?” asked he of the driver. | The driver told him. “Muzzer my lift han??? “Yes, sir. “Which way did we come—up or down the strate?!” “ 9 ‘Zen somebody's been changing me arms,” “Why ?? “ Because ther horse-block shud be upon me lift, an? it ain’t.. It’s now upon me roight.”’ **Can’t help it, sir,’ was the driver’s answer, as he whipped up his horse, having received his fare in ad- vance, and, consequently, didn’t care if the horse-block was upon the alderman’s head. ‘“ Good-night, sir.” “ Gooer-night yesif,” answered O'Dowd, politely, as he fell grace:ully over the horse-block. By the exercise of considerable strategy he got up again, “Bedad, the wind is tirrible to-night; it blew me clane off av me pins,” he soliloquized. Then he returned to the study of the horse-blocks. He discovered that the white horse-block was upon his right. A smile of delight illumined his face. “Tt is all roight,”’ said he, ‘ {—_ He paused, and the smile of delight changed to a frown of chagrin. “Be Heavens I am facing the other way !’’ sullenly he said. ‘‘I will give ther Chinese puzzle up till to- morrow. Tis to swate repose I will go, and tell Cor- delia that a sick frind wur sitting up wid me, “ Ag an expert at excuses [ have no peer,” He unsteadily ascended the steps of the Maloney mansion, and after various unsuccessful experiments at lighting tooth picks, finally got a hold of a match, The alderman’s face expressed surprise and consternation. which he ignited and s#oked at the number on the door. “134. That is right,” he said, ‘I believe I live here,’ But to make sure of it he took off his hat and looked at the card pasted in it, which read “ Alderman Patrick O’Dowd, “No. 134 —— street.” “Correct,” he remarked, taking out his night-key and placing it into the key-hoie. After half-an-hour’s abortive attempts he did unlock the door and staggered into the hall. There was a light burning at which the alderman frowned. * Begob, the servants take me fora Rothschild,’’ he pas back ; ‘what can occasion it?” said. ‘Here is gas burning all night. Do they con- jecture that I have the wealth ay the Indies at me beck and call ??’ There was a chair near by and he got upon it to turn olf the gas. Either the chair or the alderman was drunk, for they both fell, making a racket sufficient to wake the dead. Mr. Maloney, who was sleeping up-stairs, was awakened. He grabbed a stout walking-stick, and started down the stairs to ascertain the cause of the racket. “O'Dowd, who had struggled to his feet, beheld him coming down. “Its a burglar, be Heavens!” he ejaculated; “a burglar who has thieved me noight shirt! It is lucky I have arroived as I have!” “ Surrender!” yelled Maloney, raising his stick. ‘“Surrinder yesilf!” exclaimed the alderman, as he rushed up-stairs, dodged the blow of the cane leveled upon him by Maloney, and caught the latter by the throat. The light upon the stairs was dim, and faces could not be easily recognized. ' Peat Maloney and O’Dowd tumbled down the stairs. They punched, and fought, and kicked, and bit, and rolled over upon the floor of the hall more like wild- cats than men, The noise they made raised up Mrs. Maloney and Jimmy, also the servants, Jimmy divined the cause of the uproar at once, and a pleased grin was to be observed upon his face. “The alderman got into our house,’ he whispered to himself. “The snap worked all right. Oh, if the other fellows were only here!’’ “Jimmy, Jimmy!’? wailed his mother, as she peeked over the banister, ‘‘ there is a burglar killing yez father down-stairs. What will I do?’ «There must have been an explosion in a brick-yard,” cried he, moving his chair “Stick yer head outer ther window an’ yell for the: cops,” promptly replied Jimmy. “Vl yeil, too.” He was as good as his word. Soon the vicinity resounded with cries of: ** Police, po-lice /?? A couple of officers who were seated upon a truck atthe corner, socially smoking (for the roundsman. had just gone by), heard the outeries. They grasped their clubs and rushed over the way.. “ What is it, mum?’ asked one. “My husband is being murdered!’ shrieked Mrs. Maloney. ~ Where ?? ‘In the hall. Break in the door!’ The officers, secure in each other’s society, obeyed. They kicked down the door and entere d the house, There they beheld the struggfing pair and quickly separated them. One policeman held O'Dowd. The other held Maloney. “Come, now,’? said one, “what does all of this mean ?? Simultaneously repeated both: “He's a burglar!’? “A burglar!” said Mr. Maloney. honse!"* “Divil a bit; it is me house,” said the alderman; ‘Ink at the horse-block and the number on the dure it yez don’t behave it.’ “Tuk,” cried Maloney, “me number is 136, and I have a brown horse-block in front av me door.?? “Ay coorse,”’ said O'Dowd, “me number is 134 and I have a whoite horse-block in front av me door. Gaze out and note the complexion av the horse-block horizontal wid the stoop.” The officer who held O’Dowd released him while he went out to look at the horse-block, also the numerals of the number. “You are right,” he said, when he came back, ad- dressing O’Dowd. “The number is 134, and a white horse-block stands in front of the stoop.’’ “Thin take that sucker in,’ ejaculated the alder- man, Here Jimmy Mahoney ran down-stairs, and turne@ up the gas, The alderman and Mahoney looked at each “O’)Dowd f exclaimed Maloney. “ Maloney’? exclaimed 0’ Dowd. ‘Robber !’? said Maloney. “Thief !? said O'Dowd. “ Ass |’? remarked Maloney. “ Fool !’ remarked O’Dowd. “Ye will burglarize me house |?’ said Maloney. “ Yez house ’—'tis moine |” ' “Tam in me own other, >
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10 MULLIGAN’S BOY: “ Yez? whin yez buy it,’ sarcastically Maloney an- sRwered; *‘ yez house is next door. O'Dowd, yez have been dhrunk, an’ got into the wrong house. In proof ay it, here 1s me son, up-stairs is me woife, an’ if ye +80 desoire, I will illuminate the parlors, an’ show ye «ther family porthraits,” : O'Dowd perceived Jimmy, and dimly perceived Mrs. Maloney. * Fax, 1 have made a mistake. but 1 can’t compre- hend it,” he said, as he gracefully retreated; ‘who ; Worruked the transformation in the numbers an’ * horse-blocks ??' Maioney gave itup. and the two policemen being gratified with a suitable pecuniary recompense for ‘their trouble, retired. ‘ Maloney,” stately said the alderman, as he stum- led up his own steps, * we will see about this later.” * Wid pleasure !’’—and both doors slammed. But whe mystery of the change of numbers and horsce-biocks was never solved. The alderman questioned ano queried, and even got a highly ornamental, but utterly useless detective to tay about and ferret out—nothing ! ‘Greatly pleased at the success of their first joke, the League of Death worked several more within a very short time. One deserved to be named, particularly. Jimmy and Mulligan’s boy were up on the roof fly- tng kites, There was not much wind, and kite-flying grew to be obsolete, Suddenly Mike caught sight of the chimneys which belonged to the O’Dowd and Maloney families. He noticed that several bricks were loose. *Jimmy,’’ said he, ‘1 have a splendid schame |’* “What ?’* ; 9 * We'll take those bricks, fire them down the chim- ney, and break up the kitchen stoves.” * The ‘scheme’ seemed * splendid "’ to Jimmy. Tt was soon adopted. ~ Mulligan’s boy began swans the bricks down the chimney, in which pleasing operation he was effec- tively assisted by Jimmy Maloney. 4 , PART Y. -MvuLiicAN'’s Boy and Jimmy Maloney were ably assisted in their act of pitching bricks down the chimney by Paddy O’Leary. Paddy was a fourth member of the Eeague of Death. he having been ad- mitted to that awful conclave that very same morn- ang. Paaay was, as his name bespeaks, of Hibernian lineage, and earned a precarious livelihood at black- ing boots upon the corner; his stock in trade con- sisting of a dilapidated chair and a feebly secured toot-rest, upon which the patron whose boots were to de blacked was supposed to place his feet in order that the requisite amount of polish might be commu- nicated to his leathers, Paddy was red-headed, and docile and tractable. Hie considered it a great honor to be admitted to the pene of Death, and almost idolized, Mike and mmy. For Pete he did not care so much. The antipathy always, except in rare cases, evident between mem- bers of the African and Hibernian races was entertain- ed by Paddy. * “The only fault ay the League is the African ele- ment,’ he had privately confided to Jimmy. ‘The colored kid is too promiscus,” Jimmy, however, quieted him by assuring him that really Pete was not a negro. ‘ “He is a sun-burned American,” Jimmy stated. f So 1t came that, upon the occasion of the brick epi- sode, Paddy was assisting by carrying the bricks for Mulligan’s Boy and Jimmy to pitch down the chim- ney. it was rare sport. That is, for Mike and Jimmy. They flung the bricks down right merrily; they could hear them clatter and rattle and fall down the inside of the chimney in a highly enjoyable style. Mulligan’s Boy grinned with delight; so did Jimmy. * Dey’ll think it’s hailing bricks,” Jimmy ejaculated. “Or dat the ipa NB exploded,’ Mulligan’s Boy said, and they laughed in great glee, while Paddy went for another armful of bricks, Meanwhile, let us change the seene to the front room, top floor, of the O’Dowd mansion, That room, let 1t be understood, was the alderman’s study. +AS he was hardly able to read, and could only Write a letter with great difficulty, it was very neces- sary that he should have a library, It was a neatly furnished apartment, with a row of book-cases upon one side full of books. The books had been bought by the alderman at an auction sale, and were icin Patent Office and Agri- cultural Reports; for that matter they might have just as well been Greek volumes or treatises upon Abys- Fp arcnitecture, for the alderman hadn't read a blessed one since they came into his possession. A game of bagatelle or a sitting of Sancho Pedro was a great deal more to his taste than a quiet hour of reading. But at the time of which we speak, he satin soli- igs ear in his library, reading a daily paper. ere was @ blazing grate fire in the room, which diffused an enjoyable heat about the apartment; the sun shone through the windows, and an old cat and three kittens, pets of the family, played about the apartment. A half-consumed cigar, fragrant Havana, was upon It would appear to a casudil observer that anybody | ‘‘ Bang! whack! bang!’ descended the bricks down ought to be happy amidst such genial surroundings. Yet the alderman wasn’t. He was the reverse. A paragraph in the paper annoyed him, It read: “Upon the bill relative to ranning steamboats down Broadway, said street to be flooded with water for the purpose, Alderman O’Dowd voted, of course, in the aftilrmative, Alderman O’Dowd has proved himself this term to be the agent of the monopolists. Every bill in which a promise of money can be seen readily finds a supporter in Alderman O’Dowd, It is under- stood that the misguided men who vo:ed for his elec- tion, over that pure patriot Maloney, have angrily realized the fact, and that a burning of him in effigy will Soon occur in his distiict.”” The alderman read over the paper carefully, and at last flung it down. ‘The idea,’’ he exclaimed, ‘‘ av the darty ink-slingers having the gall to call me to question tor me politicatacts. Shure, is it any av their business if | support a bili to dam up the East River at Hell Gate and the Battery, and stock the intervening space wid whales for the purpose av incouraging American Fisheries. Sich impertinence is enough to make me raise lager-beer to six cents a glass, And to-think how I have given newspaper men credit in me saloon. This piece ay business settles it. The next sucker av a newspaper who comes into me place at ae met with a club. Iwill be burnt in efiigy, will 1??? z The idea so incensed the alderman that ne arose from his seat and strode flercely up and down the floor, j “T know who incited the attack,” he remarked; ‘it was Maloney. He is capable of any Iscariot act. Aman who would saycrately place & dead horse. in front ay yez door at mince and have yez arristed the nixt morning for maintaining a public nuisance, wud be capable of doing anything. That sentence, pure patriot, gives him dead away. But I will have revinge. A nice pure patriot he is!” : 4 The alderman continued to pace furiously up and own. “ Bedad, I have it,’ he muttered at length. ‘I will put a, telegraph wire across Maloney’s threshold to- night, and if Providence fayors me. whin he comes out. to-morrow he will fall over it and break his neck, If he only would kill himself I would forgive him far enough to sind a splindid floral bouquet, ixpressive ay medium grief, to his funeral,” Somewhat assuaged at this brilliant idea, the alder- man resumed his seat once moré. An ink-stand and a quill pen rested upon the table, and the sight of these articles occasioned a happy idea to the valiant O'Dowd. E Oa “Be gob, I will wroite a card av apology to the paper, Stating that whoiver says I'am a monopolist is @ liar.’ _ Just as the alderman was about to reach out for the yen, there was a rattling noise in the chimney, and a rick, accompanied by a cloud of soot, fell into the grate fire. ‘The coal and sparks flew in all directions, and the alderman ‘started back, “Is ita brick or a bomb?” he exclaimed; “it may be an infernal machine propelled by Maloney for me destruction.” 5 f A cautious survey, however, satisfied him that it was but a brick, the genuine clay-hardened article. “Where Could it have embarked?” questioned he to himself; “it cannot be that it fell down av itself. It must haye——” , Nis remarks were checked by a perfect shower of bricks, big bricks and little bricks, whole bricks and half bricks, arcane and aged bricks, bricks which had only seen fair weather, and bricks which had endured all kinds of weather. The alderman’s face expressed surprise and con- sternation. % | “There must have been an explosion in a brick- yard,” cried he, moving his chair back; ‘what can oc- casion it?” a Seized by a sudden impulse, he went forward and put his head above the fire, trying to peer up the chim- ney. He was rewarded for the action by receiving a sec- ond shower of bricks upon his head and shoulders, The alderman hurriedly withdrew, just in time to escape a third down-pouring. ‘Another sicond and I wud have been kilt,” he said, as he rubbed bis smitten parts, “‘ but I have as- certained that the bricks are impelled by juvenility. There are b’ys upon the roof,” The way a which the alderman reached this con- clusion was by the evidence of his ears. It did not require extraordinary sharpness of hear- ing to reveal the fact that the voices heard by the alder- man, during his brief sojourn at the fire place, were those of boys, Farther, he recognized one. It was that of Mulligan’s Boy. His dulcet remark of: Wy de more bricks, Jimmy,” could be distinctly identified, The alderman felt his bosom burn with righteous in- dignation. ‘The young rapparee,”’ he uttered, ‘‘ what a noice way he has to requite me ginerosity so. At Cordelia’s request, it was but to-day that I purchased a bicycle, which I intended to place in his stocking to-noight as a plisant surprise. Now he will niver aven see a wheel. 1 will throw the affair over into Maloney’s back yard, and have him incarcerated in the Tombs upon a charge av stealing it. For siventy-five cints I can hoire a couple of thramps, who will take their affa- davits that they beheld Maloney saycrately sloide down the taple, and a general appearance of comfort made | me gutter-poipe wid the bicycle wrapt in his arms.”’ ttseli telt. While he was chuckling over this great idea— the chimney. The chuckle ceased ere it was emitted fully from the alderman’s lips, and the half-gratified expression which had appeared upon his face the while, gave place to a dark frown, which shadowed his whole countenance. “Nixt they will be foiring down a tinement house,” he remarked. ‘* Bej jabers, I will put a cessation upon it.” The alderman’s hat, which was lying upon the sofa near by, was quickly grabbed by him. He placed it upon his head, and then hesitated, He suddenly realized that he was possessed of no weapon which would quell Mulligan’s Boy. “Tis eighteen thrade dollars wud I give for a stal- wart club,” he spoke, ‘‘ which wud paralyze me hope- ful ward. If he wud only fall off av the roof I wud give fifty.”’ Ashe articulated his eye caught sight of a cane, one of his own, which sojourned against a book-case. It was not a bludgeon of a cane, one of those limb- less trees which at atime not 1ong distant were af- fected as being the height of fashion by certain of our brainless bloods, but it was a good article of rattan, calculated to serve admirably as a boy-chastiser. The alderman grasped ft. He laughed grimly. “Be Heavens, I will write his autograph upon his own back in welts av blood,” declared he, as‘he tried the rattan by bending it with his hands. The trial appeared to be satisfactory, for he started up-stairs with it. Mulligan’s Boy all of the while was having lots of nn 4 Firing bricks stolen from one chimmey down the throat ofanother may not, perchance, appear very ex- hilarating to the average reader. ‘ ae Wig hi to afford great pleasure to our hero. lam {** ' , Bang ! Slam { ; Bang! | PEs Gee ; He hurled tye bricks with an enjoyment delightful to witness, and, Ike Oliver Twist, of soup notoriety, call- ed formore, ; P ; ' ; Jimmy Maloney and his faithful adherent, Paddy, were about to respond to the request when an idea oc- curred to Jimmy, _ s ae Waly The bricks, thins constantly being pitched down by Mike (Mulligan’s Boy), must attract attention, The most careless occupant of a house was not going | to have st a down his chimney without ascer- taining where they came from. So reasoned Jimmy. Therefore he kept an active eye about all the while that he was getting the bricks for Mulligan’s Boy to pitchdown. - ; oy His vigilance was not without its reward. } presently he heard the rattle of chains, the pull back of the hook, which denoted that a scuttle lid was being unfastened prepuratory to its withdrawal. “Its O’Dowa’s scuttle,” hurriedly whispered Jim- my to Paddy, who was by his side. ‘Ob, what a racket |?! : ; “What?” asked Paddy. . ' “If give it to you, you'll keep it?” “Yes.” “Keep it dark?” “Dark as coal,” “No give it away?” “ No. ”? “Never?” “NG Ver (2 59 * “Tl take your word.” stated Jimmy; “ but.” he added, as an additional precaution, ‘if you do give it away, I'll git my father to have you bounced offen the Cth Pe ae yer chair and blacking-apparatus con- seated!” Paddy was not fully aware what confiscated meant, but he felt that it was something awful, and was suit- ably impressed. “T won't give it away, really I won't!” earnestly said he; “slice my liver if I do!” “ All right,’? Jimmy said. Paddy said he did. The scuttle-lid was old and rusty, and it had not been unfastened for quite a while, for necessity very seldom led the inmates of the house to visit the roof; Mulligan’s Boy having ascended by means of the Maloney scuttle. “Shure, there is somebody thrying to get upon the roof,” said Paddy. “Roight yer are,” rejoined Jimmy. who it is?” “Who? “His old nibbs.”” “Who’s that ?? “ Little Bantam—O’Dowd.” Paddy paled. His acquaintance with the alderman, whose shoes he often blackened, had caused him to regard that gentleman as a very redoutable character, ‘He'll kill us!” he exclaimed, “No, he won’t kill us, or nobody else,” said Jimmy, cunningly; ‘but he will half kill somebody else.’? “Who?! “Mulligan’s Boy.’ “But we're all together in the job.” - “We won't be for long.” “What do you mean?” “Mike ts up in the chimney now, waiting till we brin; fresh bricks for him to sling down.” ** Yes.” “He don’t see us.”’ “No.7? “Well, O'Dowd is coming up here to make it decid- ly lively for wkeever is throwing the bricks down that “You hear that noise?” “Do yer know
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MULLIGAN'’S BOY. 14 chimney, and I will give you a pointer, Mike has an idea that the chimney is my dad’s.”* Paddy grasped the situation right off. “The best thing we kin do is to skip,”’ said he, with great acumen. “Just wotl said,’’ Jimmy answered. ‘‘Now we will slide down my scuttle and lock the lid after us. Then Mike will get all the blame.’’ Paddy acquiesced. The pair stole around to the Maloney scuttle and descended down it, Mulligan’s Boy never noticing their departure. They fastened the lid by locking it, and our hero was left to the tender mercies of his uncle. The alderman had finally succeeded in upraising the scuttle-lid. He propped it upavith a stick so that it would stand, and then crawled out upon the roof, his cane clenched in his hand. °. K : ' ‘or ‘Be gob, I will cauterize the miscreants!” uttered he, “Where air they?’ + eget . F He soon found that there was not any “they” aboutit. . . * ee - , . The only person to be beheld was Mulligan’s Boy. He was just going to fling his last brick down the chimney when he caught sight of O’Dowa. . ' The brick dropped from his hand, He assumed a studious attitude, and his eyes were bent, it seemed, upon the distant horizon. i O’Dowd smiled grimly. ia f ‘tHe has discovered me,” he muttered; ‘*faix, he will discover me more. Retribution in the shape ay me cane will dance a waltz upon the bust avy his pants !” Mulligan’s Boy was still scrutinizing the horizon when the cane made itself felt across his legs. i “Ooh! Ooh!” exclaimed he. . “Ye will yell ‘ooh! ooh!’ wid additional fervor, be- fore I get through wid i exclaimed the ee “Be gob, ye will weep tears av blood and shed hairs av anguish, Ye can expect no mercy at me fingers, for yez aunt is away fora week. Gone to visita fe- male ally av hers in New Jersey, and Ihave ye at me mercy.) 1 aa A me. He we The spe t saker emphasized his words by athird cut of the whip across Mike’s nether member, 5 “Stop 1 Mike bawled, retreating as fur away as he could, ‘What haye I did to be bate?” © “What do I bate ye for? echoed the alderman, | kill m “Bekase yezdesarve it. Ye wud attempt to kill me - wida flow ay bricks down mechimney.” “Paix ye are wrong,” said Mike. = ; cowny ?? ees . } us «isn’t yez chimney; it’s Maloney’s,”? “Ye are way off in yea geographical bearing; the chimney is ours.” ak ; ee ' Ms lligan’s Boy was an image of surprise. “Mother ay Moses!’? he exclaimed. ‘Jimmy said it wur his father’s.” w PEs “Jimmy Maloney is a miscreant ay youthful years, abou Swash! : ; The alderman’s cane sounded viciously upon Mike's gs. z ve ‘ Several previous pranks played by Mike upon the alderman had incensed him, but he had not been able to retaliate on account of his wife’s presence, Now that dread household tyrant was absent, and the alderman had a chance for vengeance. ! He improved it, and Mulligan’s Boy executed an un- premeditated but lively polka as he endeavored to ayoid the blows of the cane. The polka stopped suddenly. The cane, raised aloft for an extra blow, stood sus- pended in the alderman’s hand, A look of horror decked his visage. Why was it? Simply because— “ Mulligan’s Boy had fallen down the chimney!" “Be Heavens! he will be roasted aloive. All that I will have to return to Cordelia ay her nephew will be a fistful of human cinders, variegated wid soot,’ trem- blingly ejaculated the alderman. With a cold dew of fear upon his forehead he clam- bered up on the chimney. He looked down. . The chimney was a spacious old-fashioned one, with “plenty of room for Santa Claus to go down,”’ as the old phrase says. Mulligan’s Boy had slipped off in his endeavor to get out of reach of the cane, and fell half way down, then he xe stopped owing to the chimney suddenly nar- rowing. It wasn’t at all a pleasant place to stay in; besides the heat of the fire beneath was too hotly hot to be enjoyable. Mulligan’s Boy roared like a young bull for help. “Mister O'Dowd! Mister O'Dowd?” exclaimed he, “will ye see me burnt widout assistance ?”” The alderman was really about as scared as Mulli- gan’s gs was, When his wife had gone away she had warned him to be particularly careful of Mike, “T desire you to exercise the utmost watchfulness over him,’ said she. ‘‘The exuberance of his youth- ful spirits may get him into mischief; therefore, I want you to take good charge of him.” How had he did so? In less than two hours after the departure of his wife he had got Mike stuck fast in a chimney, where there was a cheerful assurance that. he would be slowly broiled to death, What was O'Dowd to do? How could he face his wife with a cremated nephew ? ‘bath-tubs. -} will be suffocated.” ng be- “ Bedad! I must endeavor to rescue the gossoon,”’ soliloquized he. ‘ How will I do it?” “Mister O'Dowd,” wailed Mike, in a smothered voice, ‘‘the heat is awful. Me pants will be ablaze in asicond. I can smell them scorch now.” His words were as an inspiration to O’Dowd. They suggested an idea. ‘The fire Inust be pnt out first. Getting off of the chimney and running to the sent- tle, he lifted the lid, and shouted with all the strength of his lungs for assistance. His call was soon answered... Pete and the cook, a buxom Irish lady, sometimes Pete’s sworn ally, oftener his sworn enemy, arrived. ‘““Whirra! whirra! what is it?’? cried the cook. “It is a case av loife or death,’ rejoined the alder- man, ‘‘Bhring wather—all of the wather ye can!” “What in?’”? ; ang Bedad, I do not care if ye bhring it in ‘etch it in a clothes basket if necessary.”” “Wha? fo’ ?”? Pete asked. y “Ye will foind out whin ye get the fluid. Hurry, or I will discharge both av ye.” ay as This threat appeared to have the desired effect. In a few minutes both the cook and Pete toiled up the scuttle stairs. I : One carried a slo il full of water, the other a big pe those being the first vessels they could lay their ands,to j re F The alderman grabbed the slop-pail first. He swarmed up the chimney with it. > The cook held up: her hands in surprise. ‘““Whirra! whirra!? exclaimed she, ‘‘ the boss is as madasa maniac. Luk at him diving up the soide ay the chimney loike a monkey!’ eae. Paying no heed to her exclamation, the alderman dashed the contents of the slop-pail down. Mulligan’s Boy gave a yell. ad are ye doing?” shouted he. ‘“ Ye are drown- ding me, “Give me the Meo ordered the alderman, dis- regarding his cries, Pete handed it up. Splash! , The second shower of water fell over Mnlligan’s | line Boy. - ; : = eee O'Dowd!’ shrieked he, “do ye mane to me , sks ; “Kill ye?” said the alderman. ‘I am saving yez xn I don’t extinguish the foire beneath wat ye “ But what is the good av throwing water over me, ye blamed ould fool?” wailed Mike; ‘why don’t ye go down to the room where the foire is and rake it out??? The alderman scratched his head. iat “ Begob, I niver thought av it,”’ he blankly said. 28 PART WIS 5 : MULLIGAN’s Boy’s words, as we said, suggested a new and untaought-of idea to the alderman, “ He realized that if would be decidedly better to go down-stairs and rake out the fire'than to extinguish it by pouring water down the chimney. Poly eet _ It was more advantageous to put out the fire at the bottom than at the top, for the latter alternative in- ‘volved a possible, not to say probable, drowning of | pity, Mulligan’s hk ' ee Mr. O'Dowd shuddered as he anticipated the result of his ward’s” demise. Retribative justice in the form of the stately Cor- delia stared him in the face. “Bedad, if the young divil dies, me loife’ will be ashes ay roses, a purgatory reigned over by a fay- male,” he muttered. ‘Peter, ye are acquainted wid the locality av me studio ?” *De sa grinned Pete. . ‘Vis, ye black profile, Goto it at wanst and oblit- erate the foire. Crush ivery coal as ye wud a snake. Do yez duty well. If I come down and foind a spark left as big as the eye av a needle, ‘tis murdher ye I will. I will immure ye in the sub-garret where we kape the Ould furniture and starve ye to a cadayerous grave upon bread and wather, Fly, I tell ye.” Pete flew. He was too well acquainted with his master’s hasty temper not to do so. He recognized the fact that, if he did not fly, as or- dered, the slop-jar or the water-pitcher, or any other missile handy, was liable to be flung at him, in order to accelerate his speed. He dived down the scuttle and out ofsight as quick- Wy as a pantomime sprite disappears through a trap- oor, He did his duty very quickly. The five was soon extinguished, and Pete returned to the roof. The alderman by this time had confided to the cook what all of the trouble was about. ‘What, Norah, will I do?” he asked. te moight get a pole and poke him down,”’ said she. The alderman communicated the idea to Mike, who, remarkable to state, would not agree to it. “ Aven though I am an orphan,” he said, “I do not want me head batthered into hash.” “Thin what will we do?? desperately interrogated O'Dowd. “The bye has got to be got out some way.” “Tear, down the chimney,’ spake the cook; * he will be free thin.” * And me roof will be ruint,”’ despairingly answered the alderman, “Shure it is hard luck to be obliged to tear up fifty dollars ay roof for about five cints ay bye. But me position as Head Center ay the Society for the Prevention av Cruelty to Animals obliges me to act. I will subsidize a hook and eye—I mane lad- dher company—to (lo the tearing down,’ Pete arrived back just in time to catch the last part of the alderman’s remarks. . Tather, an Irish bo, of aplomb, * All roig! ‘| in muscular ‘Kil He ventured to put in his oar. “Dah’s no good, sah, ob youse sending foah a book and laddah s‘ciety,’ said he. ‘‘We kin get Massa Mike out.” “ How?” queried O’ Dowd, ‘Berry easy.’’ “ Well, confide it.”? “Jess get a rope.’? “Por what??? “To sabe him. We puts der rope down de chimney, Massa Mike takes hold ob it,den we pull him up, Jess as easy a8 eating soup.” ** Av coorse,” answered thealderman, ‘*WurI not just to propose it mesilf! Pete, go down wid the agility ay a swordilsh and procure a rope. Embezzle the clothes-loine if ye can find nothing betther,’’ As the alderman’s house was not a store house for ropes, Pete was forced to confiscate the clothes-line, which article he breathlessly but triumphantly pro- duced before his master very soon, ** Heah it am,’ exclaimed he. ‘Jess de propah ca- hh. You lower it down and tell Massa Mike to put it neaf his armpits.’ f The alderman frowned savagely, « “Ye African imp P? he remarked; ‘ yeare altogether too forward for your age an’ situation. The first thing e are aware av, I will emancipate ye from my sarvice y bouncing ye off ay the roof. Ye are nothing but a naygur !’’ ol . vigger’s good as a white man,” sulkily said Pete. “Tn fiction, but not in fact,” returned the alderman. “What wur the famous dispatch av Napoleon after the battle av Bunker Hill? Said he, in words whose his- torical import will niver be forgotten: *The naygur ph suet nobody ! Hand me that rope, ye hu- man imitation ay a thunder-cloud !” ; : Pete hurriedly Pe the rope to his master’s keeping. Slowly O'Dowd let it down the chimney. ij “Michael!” cried he; itch onto the hemp!”*. f Mike, stuck fast in the flue, felt the rope descend upon his shoulders. ae ieee He was able, after several futile efforts, to extricate one arm, with'which he grasped hold of the clothes- “if ye value yez existence, Ty Mike was, as you well know, an Irishman—no, Ye t e ~ Therefore it is no wonder that he, with the greatest |b ye to put the rope about his neck. it, pull away!’ cried he. The middle of the rope was held by the alderman, who was perched upon the coigne of the chimney, the far end was secured by Pete and the cook; and, by the way, the cook was a lady who was not at all deficient powers. Her arms would have done credit to a *“longshoreman. : The trio pulled. The result was that the rope tightened around Mulligan’s Boy's neck to an extent which nearly pre- vente ge" i speech. ; But not quite. : co “ Aisy! aisy!” bawled he (that is if a hoarse half- choked whisper can be called a bawl), ‘ the rope is me, Wud ye have me strangulated? Lift me ae for the rope is around me chin.” . The alderman gave yent to a cry of half disgust, half “Tf there wur a gould badge offered fur the cham- pion fool Cordelia’s nephew wud secure it,” said he; “the idea av his placing that rope about his neck. Bedad, I belave he prefers to die av suffocation freely instead ay legally, and ifit war not for Cordelia I wud pull away.” y ‘If it wur not for Cordelia!’ , That simple sentence was a key to the alderman’s career. He was a self-made nan; he was proud of it, and lost no opportunily to expatiate upon it. He had worked and struggled and fought to gain a compe- tency; to be independent of adversity in the great con- flict of life. Yet this man, successful as he had been pecuniarily, was but a puppet in the hands of his wite. He had courage enough, if necessary, to beard a lion in his den, but when it came to facing Cordelia—and her figure—he felt as humble and insignificant as an ant before a turtle. Really, we suspect, ‘‘if it wur not for Cordelia,” that Mulligan’s Boy mnight have remained in that chim- ner until he was dead, ut as affairs were he was forced to the rescue. The mt was lowered again, and Mulligan’s Boy put it{beneath his arm-pits. “All ready?’ yelled the alderman. “ All ready,” was the roped one’s answer. “Take aholt av the coil ay rope,” commanded the alderman, of the cook and Pete. c The order was obeyed, Pete and the cook upon the roof, took a grasp upon the rope, their example being, followed by the alder- man. “Pull? said he. They pulled. The result might have been easily anticipated. The cook and Pete pulled fully fifty per cent. barder than O'Dowd, and pulled him off of the chimney. He landed upon the roof with a dull thud. But he was soon upon his feet. “Who done it?” exclaimed he. “Who done did what?’ Pete asked, “Knocked me off av the chimney-pot?” . “Guess de rope aid,” Pete said, looking at the cook. ‘* We pulled harder on do rope dan you did; de result wuz dat youse fell off.” > “JT am perfectly aware of it,’ he replied; “if I hadn’t fell off, I wudn’t have been where I am at pres- int. Yez motive may be good, but yez muscularity is too forcible. Ye may mane well, but ye are foo piiys- re! expressive in yez demonsthration ay the same. IfI hadn’t landed upon me head, it is kilt roight 'd
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i2 MULLIGAN’S BOY. have been. To the rescue again.” This time they all pulled together. Mulligan’s Boy slowly arose, and helped his exit from the confining walls of the chimney by digging vigorously into them with his elbows, knees and feet, thus materially assisting the efforts of the rescuers. Finally he appeared above the surface of the chim- ney, and a nice looking object was he. He was black-faced, smut-nosed, watery-eyed, and the suit of clothes, nearly new, which he had on, were ruins of raimert. The most enterprising clothes dealers of the keenest speculative nature would not havo given fifty cents for the whole suit, “Catch hould av the bhricks, ye bogie boy,”? bawled the alderman, ‘‘Whata soignt ye are. Place yein a Yet, I will not rebuke ye. a4 They ranged themselves about ‘the alderman’s bed. “N,” Mike uttered. “QO.” finished Pete. ““Keno—correct,”” Mike remarked. That settled the darkey’s exuberance of feeling, for was not that the formula of that awful organization, the ‘‘ League of Death?’?—one of the by-acts of which declared that every member, upon pain of death, must stick by, aid and abet all of the other members? Did not the same by-law state that the death of said recreant member was to be simply and unostenta- tiously torn to death by wild horses or calmly chewed up by alligators, a clause in the constitution merci- fully giving‘ him the alternative, Peter’s conscience told him that he had not acted right in making sport of his associate. He made haste to remedy his mistake. “"Scuse me, Massa Mike,” he uttered. ‘Jess youse et As they did so, Mulligan’s Boy coughed. He didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help it. facial bath, and a large quantity of that useful cleanser had gotten into Mike’s eyes, not adding at all to his vision, but adding decidedly to his irascibility. He had his hat on and a carpet-bag in his hand. ‘Good-bye, Mr. O’Dowd,” snorted he, defiantly ; “I’m a going away”? “Going away |’? repeated the alderman, taken all by surprise. ‘Going away !—where are yez going 7” “To be a pirut,”” flercely said Mike. ** I’m going to scuttle ships loike a thrue pirut, Plaze tell Aunt Cor- delia that I will sind her home the first ship I seuttle as aphilopena. Good-afthernoon.” Mulligan’s Boy made a stately, dignifled bow (that is, about as stately and dignified as a jumping-jack in ill-health), and made a sortie tor the door. The alderman was after him in a twinkling. He re 7 id ve 2 2 ye > Yn H 1, |) sound awoke the alderman. He slarted up in ved. The three masked figures confronted him. morgue, and ivery corpse wud awake to loife, an’ rinder the kaper’s office a senecure.” 5 The alderman really could not be blamed for his un- complimentary remarks, for Mike was the saddest, smirched bey one eyer saw. He jamped dolefully down from the chimney. He was half-crying. “You'll get it,” he wailed, as he brushed his face with his arm, therefore more thoroughly dentin | if such was possible, the black over his face, “ you'll get it.” “Who will?! gueried O'Dowd, struck by his con- science. “You.” “Met”? “ Yis.2? “Why will I get it?’ “Bekase if ye hadn’t sthruck me wid yez cane, I wndn’t have fell down the chimney, Jest wait till Aunt Cordelia comes home.” The alderman feit a cold shiver pervade his limbs, He realized what his wife’s—alias Aunt Cordelia’s— conduct would be. Visions of curtain lectures, too numerous to estimate upon, floated before his eyes. “Be aisy, Mickey,” said he, pacifyingly. ‘‘Go down- stairs, and, after ye bathe yez countenance wid cowld water—I advoise ye to employ a hose—I will spake wid ye. Ye are too excited, also too sooty, to rayson wid now.” “Ki! dat’s jes so,’? Pete put in. ‘Golly, Massa Mike, but youse am purty! When I’se looking at youse I’se spect dat I’se looking into a looking-glass an’ seeing myself,” Mike glared at Pete. “KO said he. “35,’? Pete replied. follah de boss’ words. Come right down de stairs an’ sell fix youse up all right.’’ Z Mulligan’s Boy was willing, and he and Pete soon were out of sight, down the flight of wooden steps which led to the scuttle. The cook followed next, the alderman bringing up the rear guard. He had noticed the interchange of pass-words be- tween Pete and Mike. “ K-e-n-0,"? said he—‘'it spells keno, and it is a gam- bling game. °Tis mesilf who has lost many a dollar upon it, and is it possible me hopeful ward, wid his black accomplice, has been initiated into its worruk- ings! IfI had proof ay it, I wud lather him well wid the business solde ay a shingle until he wud be forced to ate his meals in a stiffly erect attitude, for ivery stoop av his frame wud bhreak a biisther. Bedad, I will lather him anyway, out av principle’s sake.” The last idea pleased O'Dowd so well that he hooked the scuttle very carefully, and jocularly pitched the buxom cook a quarter for her trouble. ‘| will have the burglar alarum rung for a tilegraph boy, who will speed wid electric swiftness to purchase a Shingle from the nearest marble-yard. I belave I will have a few nails put in the shingle, too, their pints to mate Mike's flesh.” As he spoke he_sat down in the easy chair, before the raked-out grate-fire, and was abont to touch the knob of the telegraph-instrament within his reach, when Mulligan’s Boy came in. He was washed to a certain extent, but not fully. * The light may haye been bad, or the water weak, or the soap of a delicaté constituency, or the sponge with which Mike was cleansed at Pete’s hand fragile; at any rate, big streaks of soot were visible upon his counte- nance, making him resemble a sort of two-legged ze- bra around the head, alized what would be his fate at Cordelia’s hands if Mike escaped. ae “Pause, fresh bye |’? exclaimed he; ““wud ye mate an awful fate; wud ye be torn to pieces?’ ” ‘Who by ?” asked Mike, For the first time in his life was the alderman guilty of imagination, “The whoopa-whoop is abroad !’? he uttered; “he will tear ye limb from limb and spit yez mangled re- mains out upon the sidewalk.” Mike paused, “What is the whoopa-whoop ?’ questioned he. “The whoopa-whoop,”’ rejoined the alderman, rack- ing his brain for a fairy tale, ‘is @ horned American baste, full of ferocity and fleas, which is incorporated in the American coat of arums adjacent to the aigie, It is protected by act av Congress, special legislation, and is allowed to sthroll about the avenues and ate up anybody it may fale loike to—especially about this toime av the day.” As luck would have it Pete put his woolly head and smiling black face into the room at this juncture, “Pete,” he remarked, fixing his eye upon the darkey, “Mike is about to lave. He can go if he wants to. I will dismiss him wid me benediction and a foive cint piece, unmutilated, but for his own welfare have I tould him about the whoepa-whoop! Ye know what it is?” ‘ Pete didn’t. Nobody else did or probably ever will. Yet, when he beheld the alderman’s eye fixed upon him, he stammered out: “Yes.” He was a knowing little coon, quick to “catch on,"? as the slang goes. and he had a very well founded upon experience idea that if he did net coincide with his master’s remarks, he was likely to get. a shoe or a Pete had not been sparing at all of soap in Mike’s | boot flung at his head.
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MULLIGAN'’S BOY, —2 13 That was the reason why he said * yes,”’ and looked at the alderman as if awaiting farther instructions. ‘Ye well know the characther ay the whoopa- whoop!” continued O’Dowd, racking his brains as to wha‘, he should say next; ‘* the whoopa- whoop is a— is a—is a woild, untrammeled—untrammeled masta- don,’? “ Untrammeled mastadon,” repeated Pete, ** He hag steel claws,’ “Steel claws.” “ And breathes foire.” *Breathes fire,”’ cheerfully attested Pete, “Upon this block,’’ continued the alderman, gain- ing fresh courage, while he still kept the black Ananias transfixed with his eye, “How many byes did ue ate last wake ?”” * Bedad, a dangerous band av criminals,” O'Dowd declared, with a troinkle in his eye. League av misery.” n “Guess ’twas six,/sides de‘ole apple-woman, an’ she doan’t count,” rang in Pete. “Dar wuz a hand-cart, too, dat he wuz suspected ob devouring.” The aiderman removed his eye from Pete and looked at Mulhgan’s Boy. That young gentleman was in a quandary. He was thick-headed and gullible, but even thick- headedness and gullibility have their limits. The whoopa-whoop tale was a little too much for him to swallow without a Proieeh While he was hesitating what to say he caught sight of Pete indulging in a series of gymnastic grimaces behind O’Dowd’s back. The grimaces were to the effect that Mulligan’s Boy should take off his hat and remain where he was. Mike recognized that he ought to obey, for was he not one of the League of Death; was not Pete another, and were they not bound to obey each other?—one of the beauties of the dread league being that all of the members must obey each other implicitly, a some- what vague but nevertheless highly satisfactory rule, as it placed everybody upona free and equal footing. Therefore Mike took off his hat, which was his only earthly possession, and decided to stay. “T will wait till the whoopa-whoop said he, following Pete out into the hall. The alderman wiped the sweat of mental effort from his forehead. ‘“Twur a narrow escape,” said he; ‘it the bye had absconded Cordelia wud have driven me to a suicide’s grave. I have had as sloight an escape from silt-de- struction as { did whin I wur foreman av ould ‘ Black Jake Hose,’ and ‘Blue Nigger Truck No.3' dumped the whole company, including the hose-cart, off ay the dock into the East River, simply because we had kilt their foreman the wake before. Be Heavens that whoopa whoop yarn was & glorious fnyintion. It is goes away,”’ wan of those bright flashes ay intellict which place me far above me fellows.”’ : Meanwhile Pete and Mike were having a confiden- tial chat down in the kitchen. “Didn’t he jess fill youse chuck full?” Pete said, ad- miringly. “Full av what?” . “ Whoopa-whoop.’! “Tg there a whoopa-whoop?’’ cautiously asked Mulligan’s Boy. “Youse am fresh. De whoopa-whoop am a crea- tion ob de boss’, He got it up so dat youse wouldn’t runned away. Remorse chewed at his wittles fo’ be- ing de cause ob yeuse faliing down into de chimbley, and he didn’t want youse to go away.” “But lam going away,” said Muiligan's Boy. “Wha? 7? ‘Going to sea.” “ Wha’ fo’??? * Be a pirut.”? “Tse gwine-away, foo.” “ where 9? “Out West, to be a train-robbah. Jimmy’s going to be a train-robbah, too,’ “Bedad, the League shud always sthick together,” Mulligan’s Boy said; “instead ay going to sea I will go wid ye.’ ‘Pete was very much affected with Mulligan’s Boy's resolution, and that night a meeting of the League, all except Paddy, was held in the O'Dowd kitchen, the cook being away. It was agreed that just as soon as possible the League should start West to capture trains. “We will lead a life of rapine and gore,” spoke Jim- my, who recollected the words from some novel. “ The boundless prairies will be our home, and we will revel in gold; we will have a cave, too, where we will seclude our booty from the sleuth-hounds of justice,” The only draw-back of the scheme was that the future conspirators were but illy supplied with funds, Six cents, one five-cent piece (lead), one penny (bad), were all of their assets, Pete suddenly had an idea, “We'll rob de boss,” said he; “he always sleeps wif his pocket-book beneath his pillow. We'll diguise ourselves, sneak into his room, wake him up at de deadest ob midnight, and force him to deliber up to us all ob his valuables. He will never ’spect us.’ * Agreed,” solemnly said Jimmy. ‘I have another racket; we wiil abduct him." ‘‘ Abduct him? ?’ exclaimed Pete and Mike. “Yes; and place him in irons in the cellar. Then we will make your Aunt Cordelia pay a ransom for his recovery."? “But when the cook goes down after coal, she will foind him,” objected Mike. “She will not, because we will kill the cook,” Jimmy returned. ‘We will bury her in the back- yard.” Jimmy’s cool blood-thirstiness made such an effect upon the boys, that he was chosen leader right away, which post he accepted in a quiet little speech, in which he promised to torture every and all enemies of the League by such effectual methods as boiling in oil, crucifying, scalping, etc., ete. Midnight found all arranged for the robbery and ab- duction of the alderman. The disguises were procured by Jimmy, and armed with various weapons they stole up to the alderman’s room, “ Faix, instead av a League av Death I wid makeita The door was unlocked, They entered as noiselessly as possible. Like specters they crept in. They ranged themselyes abont the alderman’s bed. As they did so, Mulligan’s Boy coughed. He didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help if. The sound awoke the alderman. He started up in bed. The three masked figures confronted him. “For the love av Cordelia!” exclaimed he; “ what do I see. Who is it that has placed the wax-works in meéroom? Is it a noight-mare or a reality ?!” PART YII. THE alderman, sitting up in his bed, was almost paralyzed at the three figures which encompassed his bedstead. It was no wonder. The trio was enough to paralyze anybody. Their hideous disguises, not to spéak of their up- raised weapons, were really quite appalling. And their words were more appalling. “Surrinder or doi!” exclaimed Mulligan’s Boy, in a Sepulchral voice. That voice gave him dead away. Before, in the episode of the chimney, had his yoice betrayed him, now it did so again, for the alderman recognized its accents. He took a careful survey of his surroundings, Their forms revealed to him yery plainly that they were not men, “ Cordelia’s hopeful nephew is up to some additional diviltry,’”” muftered he. ‘{ belave ] can aisily recog- nize him bencath that porons-plaster mask. Niver moind, but I will circumvent bim. But first I will deplomatize,”
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14 MULLIGAN'S BOY. So the alderman pretended to be having a perfect fever and ague of fright. He shook all over. “\Who—who are ye?’ asked he. “The League of Death!’’ sternly said Jimmy, “What do ye want?” “Your hoarded gold.” “Allav the hoarded gould I possess is a three cint piece engulfed beneath the clock. I placed it there for roots,” d “You lie. Beneath your pillow is a pocket-book. Surrender it and come with us.’ The alderman shook harder than ever. “Spare me,?? begged he. “The league spares none,” feebly answered Jimmy. “Step out of bed.” The alderman obeyed, Ue got out. ‘ Jimmy advanced, In Jimmy's hands-were a pair of rope handcuffs, manufactured by himself, With these he proposed to manacile the prisoner who was.to be. Be out your hands, tyrant,’ exclaimed he, ni le “tyrant,” as exemplified by O'Dowd, did put. out hishands. ~ be Not the way desired by Jimmy, however. He put them out right from the shoulder. Every blow told, and the touch of the alderman’s fist was not aslightasa feather. - ‘ ; He was the owner of good bunches of bones, and he knew well how to make the best use ofthem, — Whack! ) ane! i Jimmy received a blow which sent him upon the floor, with a dazed sort of an idea that a ‘thunder-bolt a Beauty struck him. , 7h a i A The alderman, with great aginity, sprang over Jim- me form, and soaked it into Mulligan'’s Boy,. ulligan’s Boy sank sweety down, too much sur- prised to wonder what sortof an earthquake had been woken up. At ; Ai of the wild Aeeseeata ‘rit had left ni i © wild, desperate, gory spirit had left him. “ Fo". e Lawd! I'se a dead coon!? exclaimed he, as he struck a bee-line for the door. ‘ His master, however, was too quick for him, He grabbed him by the neck, as a terrier would a Tat, and flunghim down. . “Bedad, blood will tell!” bawled the alderman, ex- eltedly.. “Tha the rist till I furnish capital for a morgue!” e waited asecond for ‘the rist,’? but no “ rist” appeared, | Seay hy “T belave I have already extirpated the whole resi- due,” presently he said. ‘1 will turn_on the loight.”’ He did so, Pe ; By the bright glare of the gas he was able to see the faces of his assailants, for his unexpected and vigorous attack had caused the masks to drop from their faces. “As I expected,”’ he continued; ‘it is me darlint Cordelia’s proide, Mulligan’s Boy, who has figured as a Claude Duval, and his accomplices are the naygur and, be heavens, Maloney’s kid, James!’” A smile suffused the alderman’s face as he identified Jimmy. “Ttis up to Sing Sing to study shoe-making ye will go for foive years, me laddybuck,” gleefully said he. “How it will annoy yer father to have a son who wears striped clothing. Bedad, me revenge has ar- rived at last. j noight ye tied two cats by the tail and flung thim in me studio window to annoy me, whin I wur preparing me bill to compel ivery owner av a canary bird to muzzle it in June and July, for fear av the hydropho- bia, that I would so soon be able to wreak me venge- ance. Thrue. the cats fought all over the room and made it lukas if it had been the scene av acolliery ex- losion, but I will be quits. Come here, ye scullion- faced baboon!’ Jimmy obeyed. “What did ye mane, ye Bipk-pyed caribou,’’ respect- fully requested the alderman, ‘‘ by masquerading into me room ?? , “We were only in fun, sur.” ‘In fun, hey?" * Yis, sur.’ “Ye meant to scare me, I conjecthure.” “Dat wuz jess de pupposs ob de league,” pub im Pete, who couldn’t keep quiet. “What league, ye blackamoor ?”’ said the alderman, turning fiercely upon him. “De League ob Death, sah,’ faltered Pete. * Ah. ha! so you havea League av Death, eli?” que- ried O’Dowa. * Yes. sah.” * Do ye all three belong?’ * Yes, sah.’? “ Who ilse 9?” “Paddy, the boot-black.” “ Bedad, a dangerous band av criminals,’ O’Dowd declared, with a twinkle in his eye. ‘! Faix, instead av a League av Death I will make it a League ay Mis- ery. Mulligan’s Boy, go to bed. Maloney’s kid, go home. Pete, bounce; I will attind to ye to-morrow. Meanwhile I will kape your pistols and other weap- ons. I will confiscate thim, and presint thim fo the Old Men’s Home. There are siveral veterans of 1812 in that institution who may derive great deloight from playing soldier wid thim.”” The alderman’s words sufticed, Mulligan’s Boy, and Jimmy and Pete slunk away. All of their bravado was gone. They did not want fo be train-robbers any i:onger. They had an ample sufficiency of it. Poi day, true to his word, the alderman * attended it. ' Hesent a note to Maloney, which resulted in a whip- ping with a solid leather strap, which Jimmy recol- 4, ve laid out three already.’ Bhring me | Little did ye know, Maloney, whin last. ected for along while. For a whole week the act of sitting down brought it fresh to his recollection. Mulligan’s Boy was punished by being locked up ir his room for several days and fed upon a diet of bread and water. As for Pete, he was discharged, a proceeding which did not affect Pete at all, for he was always being dis- charged, remaining away for a couple of days and then being taken back again. O’Dowd kept Mike incarcerated for several days, as we have mentioned. There came a letter, one bright morning, from his wife, stating that she soon would be home. The letter came to O'Dowd like a shower of water upon a slumberer. It opened his eyes to what the consequences of his conduct might be. Would Cordelia approve of his having locked up her nephew and banqueted upon the yiands stated, “Bedad she will not,’ emphatically he mused; ‘““me only course is to make up wid the young divil, For sufficient pecuniary consideration he will kape his organ ay conversation sealed, 1 will confer wid him at wanst.’? So Mulligan’s Boy was sent for, and arrived de- cidedly penitent. He had had all of the League of Death he wanted for awhile. . , “Michael,” sternly said the alderman, “if it wur not for me raygard for yez aunt are ye aware where ye wud be now ?” ; ; “Where ?"? feebly asked Mike. . Mt spon the gallows.” ; é “Wh—why?? 4 x “Why? Ye are aware that Iam an alderman. An alderman in New York city is a bigger man than Queen ‘Victoria in England. The dignity av his person is. sacred. For only knocking oif me hat wid a snow- ball a news-boy was sint to prison for loife. Yet ye and | ® yez rascally villains meant to’abduct me and place me, chained, in a cellar. ; y , ‘“ Niver will I do it again,” Mike wailed. “Ye will niver have the chance.” said the alderman, watching the effect of his words. ‘To-morrow I place ye aboard ava catamaran; bound for Iceland, and the captain has ordhers to pitch ye overboard as soon as he gets out ay the soight av land.” “ Please don’t,’? wailed Mike, ; “Thad fully resolved upon it,” replied the alderman, “but there is something in yez blue eyes—if ye wud occasionally wash them the bine wud be more audible —which reminds me aya baby brother ay mine, to whom I wur very much attached, but who low sla eS in the grave—for he died before | wur born, For his sake will Ispare ye, but upon wan codicil.” The alderman probably meant condition, and Mike understood it so, for he weepingly asked what it was, : , “That under no consideration ye spake av the affair to yez aunt. Yez aunt, Michael, is amicted wid leprosy ay the jugular vein, and if iver she heard av i! conduct, it is wearing mourning for her ye,wud be na wake. Do ye promise ?? " You bet Mulligan’s Boy promised. He would have promised anything to get out of that room and off of the bread-and water menu. “Thin I will forgive ye,” spoke his uncle, magnani- mously, ‘Here is a trade dollar; take it and spind it as ye plaze—excipt that I forbid marbles. 1 stepped upon a marble at the head of the stairs yisterday, an’ Iniver wint down to the door so quick in me loife, Whin L arose it wur a@ plisant surproise to me not to ede Ae ind ay me spinal column exuding from me mouth |’! Mulligan’s Boy was delighted at getting off so easy, and he was also delighted at the trade dollar, i “Thanks, uncle,’ he said, “1 won't niver say no wurred to cep eee ; “ Bedad,if I wur ye I wud spind the dollar upon & grammar,” remarked O'Dowd; ‘that is, if I had the schooling ye had. I niverhad any schooling, Atyez age 1 wur beautifying windows in a Reform School |, wid a rag, for it is a silf/made man I am, and——’? “ Ding !—ding !—ding !-—ding |-—ding |—ding !—ding! —ding |—ding '{—ding !’ went the brassy-noted clock upon the mantel-piece. “Ten o'clock,” exclaimed he, “and the procession moves at twelve, And, shure as St. Patrick dhrove the snakes out av Ireland, | haven’t ordhered me steed yet. Michael.” * Yis, sir.?? “Will ye do an errand for me?’ ‘*‘A dozen if ye wish.” “Do ye know where Leyi O’Rourke’s Parisian stables are ?? “ Yis, sir, roight a few blocks beyant.”” ; “Roight. Proceed to thim and ask him, O’Rourke, for a saddled horse fit for me to roide. I have to turn out wid the Volksgarten Musketeers, a German society ay great influence in the ward. ’Tis a butter-cup I will be on horseback. Ill wager that ivery hotel we pass will have its windies full of chambermalds, waving towels at me. In confidence, Michael, | do more mashing thin any man ay me soize in the city.’? Mike took his hat and left. He soon reached the Parisian stables. ‘There he found Mr. O’Rourke, a short, thick-set man with a barn-yard smell pervading his clothes, and a wisp of straw in his mouth. ke explained his errend. , Mr. O’Rourke gave a whistle of perplexity, removed his hat and seratched iis head, evidently for inspira- tion, put tis hat on again, chewed vigorously at the straw for several minutes, and then said: “Der alderman struck me bad. I've only got one hoss yess now. Dat’s his Duke, As hespoke he pointed to a gray horse who was calmly chewing up the post to which he was ted, Mike surveyed the equine. é He appeared all right to Mike. lie told Mr. O’Rourke so. “Oh, he is all right,?? returned Mr, O'Rourke. ‘He's gentle enough, he wouldn’t shy at a wagon load ay hyenas with their tails burnt off, and he’s a good traveler, but—but——” “But what?” queried Mike, “He's got one fault, “wWhaty? “Funerals,” said Mr. O’Rourke, chewing vigorous- ly away at his straw. “7 don’t understand,” said Mulligan’s Boy, with a puzzled air, ‘Vl tell yer,” said O'Rourke, spitting the straw out and substituting a tooth-pick in its place. ‘‘I used to furnish Kerridges ter undertakers, It’s a rule ay der business allers ter put der best team av hosses inter ther first kerridge—the one which holds the head mourners near to der corpse; ay course dey ar the principals in der persesh. Dat hoss followed hearses tor eight years, him an’ a mate. ’Bout six weeks ago der mate died, and Tombstone—dat’s his name—wuz left out ay employment, ‘specially as I went outer furnishing funerals, I hired him out seyeral times; Went all right till he struck a funeral. The oe fel- low I lent him to was going to the park. Tomb- stone got right in behind the hearse; young fellow tugged at the reins, used the whip, nearly sawed the ‘brute’s jaw off, No good, Young fellow fetched up inter Greenwood Cemetery, head mourner behind a man whom he never knew in his life; Nice racket, wasn’t it? Same thing happened twice after; inno- cent parties bound for picnic grounds landed helpless- ly in grave-yards. So 1 ain’t letting Tombstone out.” O’Rourke’s speech opened a grand yista of fun in | Mike’s mind, jaapposs ie uncle should strike a funeral proces- on ‘ i “*fis the only horse ye have,” asked he. “Yes, “Arrah, but what a gift it is to be popular,” he so- lloquized, as he checked his horse just in time to pre- vent it from running into a bob-tail car, “If Maloney were in me place he wud have been saluted wid bricks instead ay cheers. Iviry boy in the ward wud have deemed it a privilege to cover him wid mud. Be gob, I wish I could get off on foot and luk at mesilf on horseback. I belave that I am the image av Napoleon the Great at the battle ay Bull Run,” so he soliloquized as he rode on. He was near the place of meeting where the Volks- garten Musketeers were to congregate, and clad in holi- day apparel, hie them away to the festive strains of a brass band to a suburban park, where they were to shoot for various and costly prizes, ranging all the way from a pair of suspenders to an alleged diamond ring. The skies were blue, the air was balmy, a crippled Itahan played merrily upon an organ, ali seemed enjoyable to O'Dowd, especially as Tombstone moved at an easy pleasure-going gait, »Shure, he is & pet,” his rider said, stroking the
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. 18 beast’s neck. ‘Jam in luck; for getting a good sad- dle-horse out av a livery stable is loike foinding a deed for a gould mine in a prize-package.” Alas, poor alderman! Little were you aware of what the wheel of Fate was slowly but surely turning around to you. As he came to a corner a funeral procession, led by a somber, black-plumed hearse, came up the street, The alderman checked his horse for the cortege to ass. Ill-advised act, for if he had headed off the pageant of woe, there 18 a bare: probability that Tombstone might have passed on, . But, as we stated, the alderman reined up. At the sight of the hearse Tombstone’s ears stood up and his nostrils panted. The memories of by-gone days were evidently resuscitated, He barely let the hearse pass, then darting suddenly | forward he rushed in between it and the following carriage, jostling the horses attached to the latter out of the way. ‘ The alderman was paralyzed, ; “What do ye mane, ye rebel?” cried he, tugging away at the bridle. , ' F , Tombstone didn’t mind the tug a single bit. With head bent down he was meekly and decorously following the hearse. ; The driver of the first carriage yelled at, the alder- man. ; X ‘Git ont, yer blamed fool!’’ he yelled, “ this ain’t no place for yer.” $ ; The alderman tugged more. No use. 4) : A Tombstone, with stately, sorrowful step, kept his’ nose against the rear of the hearse. The engineer of that chariot of woe turned about. “Wot are yer doing?’ he called out; ‘this ain’t a. circus parade; it’s a funeral. Are yer a relative? ‘““Av who?” asked the alderman, * “The corpse ?’? . No.7? : “Friend ?? ‘ “What wur hisname??. ~ “Delancey.” --+ i. “Did he Kape @ furniture store?” — “No—he was a blacksmith? — NP adie “Don’t know him,” - a ee ‘ “Then the best thing yer can do, ifyer ain’t a rela- tive or a friend, or don’t know the gent in the hearse, is for yer to git right out av line. If yer mean ter dis- | D tribute cire ars, ane struck the wrong place,”? “Tisn’t me fan t,” rejoined the alderman, “tis me horse’s. The bloody four-footed’ son ay a spoi won't | d move. Ye haven’t oats in the hearse, have ye?!’ fe ‘Likely story,’”? was the driver’s answer, ,“‘ Yer can’t tally me. Yer ridiculing the whole procession, yer are! Git out, or Ill.ca'l a cop.” . Really, the alderman was not exactly fitted to ap- pear in a funeral line, especially as chief mourner. One is not apt to connect the idea of grief with a ier pels arrayed in a big red hat, with a big green eather, a big blue sash and big boots, with spurs and a sword by his side, People stopped and looked at him, for his situation was about as suitable as a wagon load of crape-clad mutes would be in a bridal train, Public indignation began to be manifested, cries of disapproval arose upon all sides. “ Shame !?? “ He’s drunk 1” “ “The ra8éal ought to be arrested |’? “ Or lynched |”? “He mustbe crazy!" “ Somebody ought to shoot him !?? “ Hang him to a lamp-post !? * Knock him off of the horse |” “The idea of his making a mockery of grief that way!” "The cries were audible to the alderman, and he be- gan to feel afraid. He knew the headstrong nature of a New York crowd. It generally acts first, then rea- | 8¢ sons afterwards, He kicked the horse. He spurred it. He leant bacx and pulled its tail with a misty notion that it might possibly be induced to go backward. He actually unsheathed his sword and clubbed the brute’s side with its naked blade. He might just as well have tickled it with a feather. Tombstone would not get out of line. The threatening cry arose with fresh vigor from the augumented crowd: “Knock him off of the horse.”’ The alderman arose in his stirrups. There was @ paleness of despair upon his face. “For Heaven’s sake,’ shouted he, addressing the mob, “don’t knock me off ay the horse—knock the horse from undher me!’ PART VIL. THe crowd was surging up toward the alderman, full of wrath at his action. No matter how bad a man may be, there is a cer- tain reverence for the dead within his breast. And to think that the alderman, robed almost like a cireus clown, for in gayety of apparel and brightness of colors he was not much behind a mimic of the ring, was, to all appearances, deliberately mocking at the corpse by riding behind the equipage which conveyed him to his last resting-place, was enough to incite anybody to deeds of violence. ‘ oe were hastily picked up by @ dozen eager ands, . Ina moment the aldérman would have doubtlessly received a volley, had it not been for the brother-in- law of the corpse. The brother-in-law 4g red-faced and broad-shonl- dered. Great lumps of muscle, which persisted in standing out upon the brother-in-law's arms, above the elbows, denoted that, physically, he was not a ca- nary-bird, ~ And he wasn’t a canary-bird. i Not much ! He was a butcher ! beef-chopper, He got out of the second carriage and surged up to the hearse. y “Why don’t the funeral proceed ?’? asked he. The driver of the hearse pointed back to the alder- man, by a jerk of his thumb. “S’pose Pm goin’ ter head a funeral wid sucha looking galoot as dat nextter me. Yer bet not!’ The butcher, visually speaking, weighed O'Dowd and his horse up. “Iv’s a shooting gallery target on horseback, an’ on a lush,’’? he remarked. ‘Say old cigar fer every time you hit-the bull’s-eye, get out!” ** Bedad, all nature wud be a fairy-landto meif I could,’ replied O'Dowd. ‘I would, but it wouldn’t.”’ “What wouldn't?” “The Derby winner. I belave I have cut the brute’s mouth to fragments, but he will not sthir a sthep.” The butcher would not believe it. — a genuine Washington Market “You can’tgive me no fat, you galvernized eques-" trian,’ gently said he. ‘If you don’t get that horse out from behind the hearse I will!” “Do it,” serenely said O’Dowd. The butcher pushed his hat over upon the back of his head, rolled up his sleeyes and grabbed Tomb- stone’s bridle.: He pulled. ~ : somieens quietly braced his feet and resisted the erfort. ; ; Tombstone won. i The bridle broke and the butcher landed unexpect- edly and painfully upon the cobble-stones. ‘ The alderman smiled serenely. - j “If | were you, I would pull again,” he observed. “ Nixt toime take the mottled charger by the tail. | That will not bhreak.’? The crowd laughed. : The average street crowd is as fickle as an April day--cne moment showers, the nextsunshine. Before ey were willing to tear the alderman oif of the horse, ow they were his allies, ~ . The butcher by his ludicrous fall had become the mitt. As they had bawled out at O'Dowd, so now did they bawl at the butcher: | “Ye dropped something.” ’ “Git a sponge an’ wipe yerself up.” “ Did it hurt?” “Who fired the brick?” “Dere’s an ambulance comin? fer yer,” “The city will sue you for the dentin the pavement.” “Did yer think the bridle waz steel ?)? “Golly, wat a pull yer must have.” These remarks did not tend to soothe the butcher’s temper, which was decidedly rutiled by his fall. sit down unexpectedly and with force upon a nice i cee and see if it makes you feel good- natured. ‘ The first person he beheld when he got up was the alderman, who sat upon his horse grinning away like a baboon, for in his moments of hilarity there was certainly a decided resemblance between the O'Dowd and a baboon, The butcher jumped like a bull-dog for the alder- an. He pulled him off of the horse by one leg and pro- ceeded to pulverize him. ‘ He rolled him over and over on the cobble-stones, and gave him a kick and a punch at every roll. But O'Dowd was not much left, He fought like the little bantam that he was, and gave his assailant just about as good as he received. The driver of the horses saw a good opportunity to taway. Leaving the two to fight it out, he licked up his horses. The horses moved on. And Tombstone, with head bent down, remained and solemnly followed on behind as if he was the last loving relative of the dead man. The carriages rolled on, but the spectators repaired to witness the fight. The two combatants kept at it with unabated fury, and might, like the famous Kilkenny cats, have kept at it till nothing was left of either, if it had not been for a policeman who suddenly appeared, and went to work separating the antagonists, not by moral sua- sion, but by his club. Club logic is more effective than language i be and a few stiff taps of the locust soon stifled the fire of pugilism which had raged so fiercely in the breasts of the butcher and the alderman. They sutfered themselves to be parted and dragged up by the collar, one collar in each of the policeman’s hands, The policeman was in a dilemma as he recognized the faces of both of the fighters. * Alderman O’Dowd—Mr, Cutlet!”’ he exclaimed. * Patrolman Riley,’’ said the alderman, as soon as he regained his powers of speech, ‘‘ take in this man. He has attimpted to murdher me.” “Pat Riley,’ said the butcher, wiping away the blood which was flowing over his month from a eut- lip, “run in that monkey-faced assassin.” O'Riley hesitated. “Alderman O’Dowd—Mr. Cutlet,’ reiterated he, * what do you mean? It 1s a nice thing, is it not, for gentlemen like you to be brawling upon the street, Why ts it??? They both began explaining. They spoke together, however.and the offcer,confused by the mixture of words, could not make out e:ther of Yous their statements. As was stated before, he was ac- quainted with both of them. It was the alderman’s influence which had placed lum upon the police force, and it was the butcher, Cutlet, who had married a sister of his. So, between politics and domestic af- fairs, bold patrolman O’Riley wasin quite a fix. He solved it in a way worthy of Macchiayelli. He suddenly raised his club. “Begone, both ay yez,” he said, with great ferocity. “or itis club ye to atoms I will. Fly, ye vagabonds.’” The alderman. and Mr. Cutlet concluded that they had better obey his orders. So, with a glance of mutual hatred, they parted, the alderman to go home, the butcher to race wildly down the street in pursuit of the funeral procession. The alderman arrived at his home, followed by an interested crowd of small boys, who yelled and hooted at his generally demoralized appearance, Mulligan’s Boy was reclining absently upon the ee oe at @ game of marbles, when his unele rrived. The cigarette dropped from Mulligan’s Boy’s mouth; a shade of fear crossed his face. ; “Be Heavens! the horse must have met a funeral)? he exclaimed; ‘‘ he luks asif he had journeyed through a hay-cutter.? ! The alderman came up the steps while the small boys, evidently laboring under an idea that he was drunk, stood at a respectful distance, and yelled “Hooray!"? with all the vigor of their youthful lungs. Mulligan’s Boy descended quickly to his uncle’s as+ sistance, c Ms ‘ ““What'ails ye ?? he asked, as he helped O'Dowd up: the steps into the house. \, “ Ails me, ae »? was the answer. ; “But yer face is all bruised.” “It is not bruised—it is the heat rash,” was the al- derman’s reply, and that was al) he youchsafed about the adventure, although Mike found out id nape Tombstone was seized at the entrance to the cemetery and publicly advertised, Mr. O'Rourke being forced to pay about five dollars to regain his precious acquisi- on. " ; For the next two or three days Mr. O'Dowd did not stir out. — : . <td es ies The butcher’s brawny fist had left marks Kl person which required the hand of Time to oblitera' Yet he was-consoled, ctniegied for every cloud has its silver lining. ‘The’ silver lining of the alderman’s cloud was the fact that Cordelia had written him that her stay in New Jersey was to be prolonged tor a week or so longer, eit b 9 In the exuberance of his spirits over this intelligence. \ the alderman asked Mike to sleep with Mike, of course, could but comply., q : So one night found Mike undressed and in bed, while the alderman, partially disrobed, sat upon the sofa looking over the evening paper. “ The alderman generally took off his coat and read the first page. Then he doffed his vest and pants and struggled through the second page. Of went shoes and socks, and the third Page was finished. ‘The last page and the alderman’s night-shirt generally went.on together. He was reading the third page of his favorite journal at the time of which we speak. 2 One article appeared to interest him greatly. *“ Bedad, bye,’? he presently uttered, addressing his nephew, “itis terrible"? “What?” asked Mike, “ The scourge.’”? “What scourge?” “Av small-pox. wit te lucky yeh t.? “Tt is lue e haye not.” “Why, rita he “The statistics raygaraing the small-pox wud chil yez young biood. There are already forty cases av small-pox reported in Calcutta.” * But Calcutta isn’t here, sir.’ “True; but small-pox, so the article says, can be communicated by personal contact. It can be carried in wan’s clothes, and it wur but a wake ago that Isaw Gerald Docharty, and he is first cabin-boy on a Cal- cutta steamer. Suppose I should be afflicted with the small-pox ?”” “How does if begin 2"? The alderman referred to the paver. 4 “Small-pox,” he read, ‘‘ beging with severe pains in the back, headache, fever and excessive thirst. Pres- ently small crimson blotches appear upon the face,’ and he kept on reading till Mulligan’s Boy was fast asleep, for nothing so induces sleep as the drawl of a monotonous reader. An hour, perhaps several hours, passed by, when Mike was awakened-by a kick in his side. F He started up in bed. The gas was turned out, but the bright rays of the moon shining in at the window revealed the fact that the alderman was in trouble. He was splurging about the bed like a whale out of water, His face was distorted. His fists were clenched. His night-cap was all awry, and his knees were doubled up almost to his chin. Plainly he had the nightmare. “Small-pox !? gasped he, making a sort of uncon- scious effort to stand upon his head. ‘ve gotit; I know it. Be jabers, luk at the crimson blotches !” Then he made an ineffectual endeavor to bite off his toe-nails and subsided for a while. eomgens Boy was now wide awake, So wide awake was he, that an idea, an idea utterly wicked cameé into his head. He looked at the nightmare afMicted alderman, who appeared to have sneceeded, at least partially, in tying legs around his neck. a Have ye read to-noight’s paper?”
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is MULLIGANS BOY. “Ti do it,” grinned Mike. “Jl doitif Iam kilt fer it.” So saying he crept silently out of the bed, He made his way to a small table by the bureau. Upon that table was a small bottle filled with red ink, said bottle being used frequently by Mulligan’s Boy for writing letters, for ink of a sanguinary color just suited the natural piratical disposition of Mulligan’s Boy. The light was turned out, but the rays of the moon lit upthe apartment perfectly. Mulligan’s Boy glided to the table and picked up the * ink bottle. He uncorked it. From a safe upon the wall did he take’a match. He dipped it into the ink, il SAAR! a rw The alderman sprang in upon them, small-pox ! Then he crept silently but swiftly to the bed where the alderman lay. The nightmare was plainly afflicting Mr. O’Dowd yet, for his posture was changed, He had untied his legs from about his neck, and was lying flat upon his back, sparring flercely at some un- seen enemy. Mike managed to deftly dimple his face with the ink, Several visits were necessary to the red ink bottle before the alderman’s face was fully finished. : When Mike had concluded the job to his satisfaction, O'Dowd Was a nice looking sight, His face was ink-blotches all over; it looked as if a blood-rash had suddenly broken out upon his face. Mike surveyed him by the friendly light of Luna, “Y} have done it well,” said he; 'tbedad, whin he awakes in the morning and behoulds his vaccinated visage, it is the jim-jams he will haye.”’ And Mike crept into bed, just as if he was a nice, good little boy, who never did what was wrong, and Was soon sound asleep. He was up, however, long before the alderman, and was down-stairs talking with the milkman’s boy long before O’Dowd had shaken off the chains of slumber. The shrill notes of his wife’s canaries awoke O'Dowd. He raised himself up in bed, and shook his fist at the feathered vocalist. “Whativer Cordelia behoulds in those divils I do not see.’”? exclaimed he. ‘* Faix, I wud just as lief have a pair ay twin fog-whistles for pets. The first loight av the day sets thim to singing, an’ whin wanst rey are singing no slape is possible. Some day those birds will be missing, and although we will have quail upon toast that same noight, I bet that me leddy woife will niver tumble.” The alderman got out of bed and flung a sock done the glass clutched in lus hand. Luk at me face; it is fnll av crimson blotches. up in a wad at the canaries, in the hope of stilling their song. They ceased for awhile, and, gratified at the result, he proceeded to partially dress, “Shure, I fale as if I nad been out all noight wid the byes,’? he said. “Me head feels like a balloon, I couldn’t have slept aisy last noight; I must have the noightmare. Come to recollict, I belave I did have the noightmare, It dimly occurs to me mimory that I wur laboring undher an idea that I had the small- pox and wur being carried off to the hospital. I——” He suddenly paused. “Me face feels as if it wur dried,”’ said he, (And 80 it did, for the drying of the ink had naturally atfected the pores of the skin.) ‘‘I will waft mesilf to the glass and take a luk at me countenance.” a \ a a i il hi | | i Me Ah Ail Unsuspectingly he walked up to the glass. He took but one look. His mirrored features fairly rendered him incapable of utterance for awhile, He staggered back. He grabbed a chair for support. _ “Blissid St. Patrick! exclaimed he, after awhile, just as soon as he recovered his breath, which ap- peared to have been temporarily knocked out of him by that one glance in the glass, ‘me face appears as if it had been used for a pin-cushion. What can occa- sion 16?” * Not daring to look into the bureau-glass again, he grabbed a small hand-mirror. He furtively peeped into that. His face looked worse than ever. “ Have I the maysles?’? exclaimed he, ‘* or—or be- jabers, it is the small-pox!” The last part of the sentence was uttered in a shriek. A panic seized him. He rushed wildly down-stairs, three steps at a time Finally he ran into the sitting-room, where was Mul- ligan’s Boy, the cook, and the housemaid, a blithe Irish damsel named Lettina. The alderman sprang in upon them, the glass clutch- ed in his hand. “By the piper who played before Moses!’’ he ex- claimed, ‘1 have the small-pox! Luk at me face; it is full av crimson blotches. Mike, if ye love me, sind fur a pest-lionse!”’ The alderman’s speech drew a result similar to that which would have followed upon the explosion of a bomb-shell, The cook and housemaid uttered simultaneous yells, and fled as if for their lives, Mulligan’s Boy, to keep up appearances, yelled also. “Help! help!” shouted he, as he picked up a “ By the piper who played before Moses’? he exclaimed, ‘I have the Mike, if ye love me, sind fur a pest-house !” bag which the housemaid had dropped. “Stand ot!” The alderman put down the glass and pranced mad- ly about. He was half crazy. “Yo think that afther being vaccinated foive toimes that J should mate wid the small-pox,’’ said he, ‘Oh, I will die, I know I will The cook and housemaid meanwhile had scurried out into the street. Policeman No. 684, &@ particular friend of the buxom cook, was passing by, leisurely swinging his club, He was astounded at the sudden appearance of Norah and Lettina. ‘Vos you blaying teg, girls,” asked he, in his Ger- man accent, for he was a son of the saurkraut. The cook beheld in him a friend in need. So did Lettina, They fairly hurled themselves upon his person and flung their arms around his neck, greatly to his sur- prise, and not to say diseomfiture. “Mein grachus, girls, vot vos ye apout,”’ he queried. “T yosn’t a masher. I vos engaged. I vos nefer dink auf you but asa friend, Vos you been daking laugh- ing-gas?” “Oh, Mr. Beerman,” they both exclaimed tn chorus, “Dat vas my name,” returned he, . “Save us,’ “Save you?” “Yes,?? “From yot? Where vas he?” “Oh, it isn’t a man,” replied the cook, clinging tight to him, “Vas it a woman?” “No, nol’ “Den vot vas it? a peast?” bs No—small-pox.” “Small-pox,’”’ repeated the guardian of public morals; ‘‘small-pox! Where vas it?” “In the house.” “The house you vas yoost gom out auft” ‘Yes.’ ‘You vas oxbosed to 1d?” s“Yes.”” The sturdy policeman’s face paled, and he huried both of the females away. “Bounce! get avay,” roared he, “you vos put your arms about my berson, und you vas haf peen oxbosed to1t. Himmel, und 1 vas an engaged man, mit a date to meet mine Katy dis night; vomans, advance vun inch towards me, und I vill club you if you vas my grandmutter.” With which threat he fled away as if he was a pro- fessional rnnner instead of a policeman,
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MULLIGANS BOY. 17 The alderman, during the occurence of the above episode, had sunk down upon his sofa a mental wreck, “Small-pox!’’ he groaned. ‘ Av all the diseases to be kilt by! Why, whin I fell into the river at the pic- nic ay the Johnny McCarty Guards last summer, wur I resuscitated by a boat-hook and rolled upon a beer- keg for an hour an a half only that I moight live to doi ay the small-pox? Small-pox! Not a person will be at me funeral—not aven a representative of a tar- get company. And it has always been me ideal to have a populous picnic at me obsequies. It is a mat- ther ay conjecthure if I aven get a tomb-stone, not to breathe ava monument. It is lucky I will be if 1 even get a shingle stuck up over me head.” Here he noticed that Mulligan’s Boy was yet there. “‘ Mike,”’ said he, “for Heayen’s sake flee!" ES nye i i ie | i i i | a | i in 1 | ! i cee | a il | | “ What for?’ inquired Mike, with apparent inno- gence. “Do you wish to expire 7” ‘* Av coorse not.” ‘ “Then flee, fool! I have the small-pox.’’ ‘Dade, I belave it.’? “Are ye mad?” * No, sir.”? “Thin flee! Ye will catch it.” Mike put on an air of affectionate resolve. “Uncle,” said he, ‘I will not lave ye. Itis me place to ey. wid ye. If ye had the plague I wud not for- pake ye.” i unexpected affection fairly moved the alderman to tears. ‘Mike, me gossoon,"’ he said, “‘ I did notixpict this, I niver rayalized that ye cared so much for me. I may not have exactly thrated ye roight, lad, but I meant well. Ye will not be sorry for yez acts—if ye do not die av the small-pox also. Iwill laye to yé me dia- ynond stud—ye cannot tell it by noight from rale—ana me gould watch. Whin the gould wears off ye can ret tt replated for a troifle, Hardly had he ceased speaking before a noise was heard outside. Clang! , Clang! Clang! It was the sharp, successive strokes of a bell, accom- panied by a rattle of wheels. : Mulligan’s Boy sprang to the window. He pulled-aside the curtain and looked out. “Hey, uncle!” he exclaimed, “it is the—the-—-” ““ What?” “Ambulance!” ; Alderman O’Dowd gave a groan of despair, He sank in a heap upon the floor. “To think that I have kum to this!? he gasped; | “me te be carried away ina common ambulance. I should have conjecthured that knowing me political rank they would have at least sint a barowthe!’? PART IX. YES, it was so. ; At the alderman’s door stood the ambulance, while & spry young doctor, recently licensed to kill or cure, pitched away his cigarette, jumped out of the rear of the wagon and hurried up the steps. He tugged at the door-bell. Mike responded. ‘Where's he?’ queried the doctor. “Who ?? asked Mike, wur as merry as a gad-fly upon the back av an army mule.’! The young doctor bit thoughtfully at a tooth-pick which he had fished out of his pocket. “Very strange,” he muttered, ‘“ How do you feel now? Are you unwell anywhere?” ‘* Bedad, I will confess I am not,” answered 0’Dowd. “Tam fully capable av sparring wid a beef-steak if I were allowed to.” As he spoke he drew his hand across his face, Pcie had rendered the hand moist with. perspira- tion. The moisture caused the ink-spots to blur and run together. The young doctor started back, as he caught sight lif? } | i im nn en i | SU | | | ul aie R\y wid \ ith “ The case,’ “ What case ??? “ The small-poxey,”? ‘“ Nobody possesses smali-pox here,’? “See here, young fellow,” answered the young doctor, “you can’t conceal it from us. Didn't a po- | iceman come around to the Hospital and give it dead away about the alderman having the small-pox? He’s got it, and I’ve got to get him, Where is he ?”” Mulligan’s Boy pretended reluctantly to yield. “He’s in the parlor,” he answered. “Plaze trate him koindly.”” The young doctor eagerly assented. He went into the parlor, There was the alderman reposing upon a chair, a picture of woe. “Who are ye?’ he feebly asked. ** Ambulance surgeon,” was the reply. “The vehicle outside is yez?”” *'Yes,?? “?Tis a small-pox caravan ?? ““That’s about it.” * An’ mesilf is meant for its inmate 7”? * Precisely.” As the young doctor spoke he took @ look at O’Dowd's spotted phiz. “You've got it awfal bad, it appears,” remarked he, “but I must say the postules are rather remarka- ble. When were you taken?” “Tast night.” “Have @ pain in your back first?” **No,?? ‘Limbs ache ?”? “No.” e Head ache.” “No.” ‘** Feel bad before you retired ?”’ “Fale bad! Faix, I felt joike a two-year-ould. . J ANU tue ( qn | {jadi i ‘bin i Nii Soon both of the conspirators were at work with jack-knives upon the harness of the cab-horse, while the unconscious driver nodded above their heads, of the transformation in his proposed patient's visage. He went up and felt of the alderman’s cuticle. Then he wet his finger tip, and rubbed it over said cuticle. The spots. disappeared. ; The doctor gave a low whistle. ““ What are ye piping about?” queried O’Dowd. “ Be gob, I see no occasion for whistling. It is a corpse I moight be in an hour, for, judging from the complex- ion ay the spots, it is the red small-pox I have.” The youthful boss of the ambnlance grinned. “You needn’t worry about dying,” he replied. * Whoi?” “You ain't go if.” “Not the small-pox?” “No.” “Thin, be ** Nixey.?? ‘Is it scarlet faver 7? “No,” “Thin what is it?? f ‘Ink,’ laconically answered the youthful M, Dp. “Somebody's put up a job on you.” ““What do ye mane?” “Those spots upon your face are not marks of dis- ease; they aresimply marks of ink—red ink. You are just as wellasI am. From what that Dutch police- man said who summoned us, I supposed we had a real ase of small-pox. Sorry about it, too, for Chambers Street Hospital has got two. cases of genuine cancer, and a nigger with the yellow fever. They're putting on lots of airs about it, and if we could have only got @ real fatal case of small-pox we might have got even with them. So long.” * ‘ So speaking the boyish disciple of Esculapins lit an- other cigarette. cocked his cap over one eye, and went back to the ambulanee, - “False alarm, Bill—no case,’’ he said to the driver; Heavens, it is the maysles.”
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ged ¢ 18 MULLIGAN’S BOY. and away went the somber vehicle of disease and death. ; ae alderman, for fully five minutes remained as one } dazed. : “Small-pox—a put up job—red ink—what does it mane? he repeated. ‘Shure, I must have small-pox marks upon me face, for didn’t I behould thim in the glass? 1 will take another survey of mesilf.”” He proceeded to the glass. The smear when his wet hand had passed along his face was plainly perceptible. The spots were all merged in one red stain. He regarded himself for a while in surprise. A sudden idea occurred to him, “7 wondher what effect a wet sponge wud have,” he uttered, as going up to his room he procured the arti- cle specified, and proceeded to place it beneath the cold water faucet. The sponge was soon dripping, and he rubbed it quite severely over his face. When he picked up the hand-glass again his visage was as clean as the mirror itself, He looked perfectly natural. . He felt relieved. But he also felt mad. It was evident that somebody had jplayed the joke pon him. Who could it be? He racked his recollection. “As I am not endicted to slape-pedestrianism, I eudn’t haye done it mesilf,”’ soliloquized he; “it must have been—— Be jabers,I have it!—Mulligan’s Boy, me nephew by marriage, is aquilto anything.” ~ That ey ts he questioned Mike, Nota bit of satisfaction could he get out of that promising young man. : Mike falsely said he knew not a thing about it, and advanced a theory, that instead of the spots being ink, they were a sweat rash, ; “Shure, uncle,’ he said, ‘I have. heard. av it me- silf. Mister O'Toole, the Spaniard who taught Latin at me school, used to be afflicted wid it. He had it upon his forehead, three crimson pimples as big as sthrawberries, an’ the docthurs said they were created by the pressure av the band av his hat upon the skin av his brow, and the result proved that the docthurs were roight, for wur the wint bare-headed for a wake, and ivery pimple disappeared, Suppose ye go bare: headed. ; The alderman gave Mike a glance which ought to have crushed him, only unfortunately it did not. “Tfit wur not fur Cordelia,” spoke he, “I wud sit- uate ye ina place where ye wud have to dilute yez taffy to the arias av stone-bhreaking. ‘Tis breathing the air ay Blackwell Oisle ye wud be by to-morrow’s twiloight, if 1 hadn’t wed into yez family circle. Re- toire to yez garret boudoir, and thank yez fate that it is mesilf who is mated in Hymeneal chains wid yea aunt! : Our hero was only too glad to obey. } i aoe av it aisier thin I ix cted,”? he said to himself, as he went to, sleep that night, ‘but it is an on saying that the fairies, are always good to the rish. It might be so in Mike's case. ; It ai not, however, appear to be so in the alder- man’s, , The very next day he got himself in a muss again. There was a friend of his named O’Donnill. There was a friend of his named Casey. ‘ For a long while they had been partners in a circus, “O’Donnill and Casey’s African Conglomeration of Animals and Royal Peruvian Arenic Wonders.”” Ne twenty years’ experience Mr. Casey decided to retire. He did so, and an equable division of the circus prone and animals was made, Mr. Casey selling is half afterwards to his partner, all except one ostrich, which Mr. O’Donnill, probably warned by previous experience, said that he did not want and would not buy. Mr. Casey desired to return to the Emerald Isle, where he was born, and whether it was because he re- alized that an ostrich would not be a desirable com- panion upon a voyage over the sea, or what it was, he presented it to the alderman, who was an intimate friend of his. The alderman was at first delighted. “Bedad,” said he, “Iwill build the bird a pagoda in the back-yard. I will be the invy of the neighborhood for it is bet a bottle av champagne to a bottle av ink will I, that not a citizen in New York, excipt mesilf, has a private ostrich.” So the ostrich arrived. He was a big, ungainly mass, and the alderman was astounded at his size, also at his uglines s, “Tf good looks carry a person to Hea ven it is to the other place ye will go,”? he said, as he surveyed his present. ‘I will have to instruct the carpenther who is pe eat the pagoda to put a sicond figure uponit. But where could the ostrich be placed until the pagoda was built? yi des He finally decided at last to put the bird in the kitchen for that afternoon at least, as O’Dowd had to go out on some business. So the ostrich was put down in the cook’s domain, and the alderman went off. He told everybody that he came in contact with about the bird, A friend of his, Mr. O’Quirk, became very much 1n- terested, and expressed a violent desire to behold the creature, i O'Dowd readily consented. ; The two, after the alderman’s business had been dis- posed off, were soon at the house-door. Their ring was replied to by the cook. She looked mad. And red-faced, u There was war in her visage. “Thank Heaven, ye are back,’’ she said, “Why ?? asked O’Dowd, ‘On account av yez new gift.” “ : We are not. ; : é Ergo, we are a'good deal better than he is and we are glad of it! t ; . ? The alderman was not any exception to the hypothi- sis stated above. ‘ae = rag He actually sarcastically cried at poor O’Quirk: “ Ose strategy, O’Quirk ! use strategy. Faix, a bloind man could see that ye have made a study of os- triches. Oh! look at him, Mike ; look at the know- a eae his pants have parted and he is saved." The tugging of the ostrich one way, the resistance of OQuirk the other was too much for any pair of pants. th ostr: s' back e fabric tore apart, the ich stage witha big bill-fall, while 0: pete fell flat upon his face, The fact was received with great applause from the spectators, for by this time the main windows and back fences of every house on all sides of the block ap- peared to be full of delighted witnesses. “ Bully for the ostrich |” “ Whoop for the pants !” “They haye parted from each will meet again.’ ; “He wearsaredshirt.” “The ostrich is in a handkerchief, any way.” “Right a draw.’ , : “Regular stand off.” ; So called out various voices, while O’Quirk, with a face as red as the undergarment of flannel which had been alluded to, retreated ungracefully to the aider- man’s kitchen, pursued by an old cabbage, hurled after ue probably as a bouquet, by some interested ad- mirer, “There is nothing loike knowing all about os- triches,”’ said O'Dowd, carelessly. ‘‘A man who knows the thraits ay the bird loike Pepa! can muzzle a dozen aisily in foive minutes. Wid proper care, he can——” , “Alderman O'Dowd,” said Mr. O’Quirk, hoarsely, “altho? I have not been successful, 1 will not brook yez ironical calamities. Henceforth I will niver put me fut in yez rookery again; and 1 will obtain a permit from the mayor to have that demon fowl massacred, It pains me to necessarily ax a favor ay ye, but I am forced to do so.” “ What is it?” merrily asked 0’Dowd,who knew that just as soon as his friend got over his temporary irrita- bility he would be all right. “If I shud leave yer domicile the way I am I wud be arrested for indecent exposure av person. Will ye plaze lind me a whole pair of pants ?”” Of course O'Dowd did, and O’Quirk went off with a haughty step, metaphorically shaking the dust of the O'Dowd house from his feet. As forthe ostrich, Mulligan’s Boy, aided and abetted by Jimmy Maloney, succeeded in sari him with a rope and triumphantly incarcerating him in thejcellar, where, upon a diet of coal, he appeared to wax fat and Fimorons, and where, for the present, we will leave m. The day after Alderman O’Dowd was a victim again. It was nearly nightfall. A cab was wally at the door to take theZalderman to some caucus of his political party, While waiting the cab-driver, who had been up all the night before, fell asleep. . He dozed forward upon his box. There he was spied by Mulligan’s Boy and }Pete, who, as we prophesied, had been taken back by O'Dowd upon a solemn promise of amendment, “kK said Mulligan’s Boy. “®? answered Pete, ‘N’)) uttered Mulligan’s Boy. “0'» replied Pete. “The League of Death. will be rayvil licking the alderman gave us,’’ said Mulli “ Hark!” He unfolded a plot to Pete, The coon nodded delightedly. other, and they ne’er d for the in’s Bov,
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. 19 Soon both of the conspirators were at work with jack-knives upon the harness of the cab-horse, while the unconscious driver nodded above their heads, PART X. TuE boys soon had their work perfected. 5 he horse was free from his cab, only the reins held by the dozing driver attached him to the vehicle in his rear. Then the boys retired to watch the effects of their deed of darkness from a convenient point of view. Presently the alderman came out. 4 The noise of the front door closing behind him awoke the cab-driver, He started up and sat bolt upright as if he had not been asleep at all. He did not notice that his lines were attached to an unharnessed horse. i * Pythagoras Hall,” said the alderman; “droive loike fury, forlam in a hurry. Red-headed McGhane, I am-tould, will be chairman ay the committee av dis- organization, an’ he may lave me out?’ _ c ©All right,” replied his obsequious charioteer, « Get ep, Joe. PetCo ae ; : Joe—Joe was the horse—did get ““ep.” He darted forward, pulling the surprised driver nearly off hisseat’. . * “@reat crickets ! exclaimed he, “what does it mean? Blast my eyes, it the brute ain’t loose.” The alderman put his head out of the cab window. “Why don’t ye go altead?? he exclaimed. ‘ Bedad, Vil get out and walk prisintly.” The cab-driver, meanwhile, had regained control over his horse. He had become thoroughly awakened, and discoy- ered’ the source of the catastrophe. Pett “If I ever catch whoever did it Pll kill them,” he savagely swore. — . “ What have they done,” asked the who done it? Faix, something mesilf.’* . “How's a man going to drive. ph ab his harness is all cut?’ sulkily queried the driver. *‘ Yer might just as well try to run a gondola down a plank- alderman, “and ifye don’t droive soon I will do The alderman got out and surveyed the wreck. While gazing at it he noticed a knife lying in the gutter. E “ ; He pickeditup. - , he et : Upon its handle were hig own initials, | t0'D. 5 fur- thermore, he recognized it as hisown knife. ° The knife was open, and upon its blade were several particles of leather. ‘ew ie A flash of intuition occurred to him. “T see it all,” he exclaimed; “’tis me bewltching nephew who has did it. Me knoife has been se for a week, and I suspected its locality, and—shure, behould ‘Mike and that black divil av a soide-partner av his now.” 3 if He called to them, Only Mike came, for Pete, suspecting mischief, dove ‘ down into the area. 2 ptt, “Mike,”’ said the alderman, with a smile, “wud ye pie lind me a knoife? I have a small log av wood eneath me nail which I wud loike to extricate.” Mike put his hand down into his pocket. His face paled. He had no knife, : He realized that he must have dropped it in his hur- ry to getaway from the scene of his crime. “}_J—Dve left it in the house,” he faltered. “Tied to the ostrich’s neck probably,’ sarcastically said O’Dowd. “ Mike, I want a few seconds’ chat wid ye wid me boot-jack. ‘There are wrinkles in yez pants which need smoothing ont.” ‘“What have I done?” gasped Mike. “‘Tuk at that picture av misery who is droiving a horse down the strate; luk at this impty cab which stands lonesome and forlorn in front of me house fill its proprietor can get @ new set of harness, Who caused this state of affairs? It wur yersilf. Michael, pedestrinate into the domicile. Lade on; I follow ye.’ “But ye have got to go to Pythagoras Hall,’ Mike said, as a last resort. — “Pythagoras Hall will have to wait for me presince,” sternly answered O'Dowd. “Home duties before public acts. Go ahead.” Mike felt. he was doomed. So he was. ‘ Doomed to get as nice a trimming from the boot- jack as any young man ever got, < Wait till aunt comes home,’ he bawled, Whack! Whack! Whack! The boot-jack descended firmly. * Owing to me good angel (whack) yez aunt (whack) will not be home for (whack) another week. She is (whack) happily afflicted with a (whack) fit av malaria. Even if she wur (whack) here it wud not prayvint me laying yez (whack) out wid the boot-jack. Cut (whack) a poor devil’s harness, will ye ?? and the alderman finished his speechand castigated Mike with a whole volley of ‘*whacks.”’ % Then Mike was conducted to his room and locked in. “Ye will stay there for three days, and yez banquet will be bhread and wather,’”’ were the alderman’s last words as he went away. “Bedad, I feel resurrected,” he chuckled, as he put for Pythagoras Hall; ‘there has heen an ache in me arm to ed at that young sonav a gun iver since he has afmicted me house wid bis presence. Now I have did so, I am five hundred per cent. betther.” Meanwhile Mike was having lots of fun. He was too sore to sit down, and so he was forced to roam about the room. _ ‘Wild thoughts of vengeance towards the alderman filled his head. He would kill him. He would shoot him. He would stab him, Or he would put arsenic into his coffee. At last he decided that arsenic would be the best racket. Victims ofarsenic generally died in the most terrible agonies, and Mike felt that the famed and horrible tor- tures of the Spanish Inquisition would not be half bad enough for the alderman. While these vindictive ideas were filling his head, he suddenly heard a voice in the back-yard. : The voice was cheerfully singing: “Coon and monkey had a fight— Oh, Lord, de bells am ringing; It tuk ae in de moonlight, Oh, Lord, de bells am ringing. t Den clar de way, Clar de way fo’ Mary. Clar de way— We'se all a-gwine to hebben.. ‘ Mallee Sy. recognized those dulcet strains. They were Pete’s. Mulligan’s Boy opened his window. only two flights up from the back-yard, ‘Pete !? he cried. ! Pete’s song suddenly ceased. iM ee calling?’ he asked. His room was e. ' a Dat youse, Mike?’ es. “Wha? youse doing up dah?” * Locked in.’? “ Fact.??: M “How long? — : “Three days.’? Z “Wha? for?” Ps * Mulligan’s Boy felt insulted at the ik tls ; Here was his companion in crime, whio was free and ont in the back-ya poking. fun at him. 2 i -“ Ye Know well cg 3 ete,’ he said, “the rayson ‘ay me incarceration, Wasn’ti found out about the harness racket? I wur collared dead by that ould vil- lain ay me uncle.”” - ‘ : Pete, who was. Sngaged in the airy. task of sweeping up the yard, paused and listened with great interest. _ ‘©Wha? did the ole cuss do?” he asked. — “Licked me.’? ri, . . “Hard?” -- ry , “7 won't be able to sit down for a century.” . Pete laughed. ; 44 i got off good,” he said. ‘“ Wha’ did he lick ye wid?” td . “ t-jack ” *-Any nails in it??? ; “Faith, it seemed to me all nails.” ; Pete laughed pain, for isn’t it really delightful to know that your friend is in trouble, while you have es- ca « The two boys talked for quite a ‘while longer, and Mulligan’s Boy began to feel better, His smarting ‘pain to a great degree subsided, So did his murder- ous feeling towards his uncle. Like the break of the sun’s bright rays through a dark, black thunder-cloud came an idea. ’ He would not kill his uncle either, by arsenic or otherwise. The alderman’s life should be spared, and Mike still would have his revenge. He would run away. Butin order to run away he must first get out of his room. He could not get out of the door, for that was locked, and as the door was pretty stout he could not kick it down. s How did prisoners locked up as he was generally escape? By aid of a rope and the window, of course. *Pete,.’’ he cried, “ have you a rope?” Pete felt through his pockets, carefully looked into his hat, and returned an answer that he didn’t have a rope. * But dah’s de clothes-line,” he said; ‘“ what fo’ yours want de rope?” “'Po escape.” “Gayine to climb outer de window ?” “Yes? The audacity of the idea tickled Pete, and he pro- ceeded to take down the clothes-line, slinging what- ever clothes were upon it in a corner of the fence most unconcernedly. Had the alderman witnessed the pro- ceeding the result would have probably been a colored corpse. Baring secured the clothes-line, the next question was how to get it up to Mike. — After a dialogue upon the subject, it was decided to tie it securely around a base-ball club and throw it up. The decision was carried out, and the ball club thrown. In fact it was muchly thrown. . Pete was not a remarkable throwist, and it was only after half a dozen windows had been demolished and the seats knocked out of several shutters that Mike succeeded in getting the ball club and its overcoat of clothes-line, Sy aig it, he tied one end around the foot of his Then he got upon the window sill and let the rest of it down ‘Jist ye catch on, Pete,’ he said; ‘“ hould tight.” Pete willingly obeyed. a whole proceeding was as good as a cireus to ete. He caught hold, and Mulligan’s Boy came slowl down the rope, hand over hand. en about ha’ way down, what might have been expected occurred, There wasa snap! The rope had broken, * a de ostrich! Thud! Mulligan’s Boy, apparently all arms and legs, landed like a land-side upon Pete, who went to ground like a smitten bullock. Mulligan’s Boy was on top, and resultantly he was first up. The fall had not hurt him any. Pete was on his pins a second or so later. He look- ed confused, and he dazedly glared at Mike, while he rubbed his head, which had suffered somewhat by contact with the hard brick walk. ‘“‘ Did youse do it on purpose?’ demanded he. “To what?” interrogated Mike, “Fall on me.” “ Av coorse not.” “It's lucky youse didn’t,"’ Pete replied, ‘‘fo’ we is pals and membahs ob de League ob Death. If I sus- pected dat ye did it purposely, I’d cut youse; yes, sal, cut youse wid a razor, dat is, iff had arazor. All I’se got now is a pen-knife, byt ’'d cut youse wid dat. Cullud blood rise berry quickly.” ‘** Arrah, be aisy,” Mike returned, not much scared at Pete’s language. ‘‘Do you Know whatI have made me escape for?” — “Wha? 2? 7 “Going to run away.” “ Where ?? Mulligan’s Boy could not exactly say; as yet he had not decided. However, he was going to run away somewheres. Would Pete go along? c Pete would. “‘Shnah, I wuz gwine to do it myself,’? he confided. “De ole gal’s married again.” “Who's the old gal?’ asked Mike. i “Mudder, She wuz a widowess; now§she’s dun gone got married.” ° “Gulu get youse spose dat dder's got ullud gemman; youse spose dat my mudder's go’ no mo’ pride den to catch a white gemman? Rot much, my mudder’s a lady, she is, eben if she hab done gone married de coon dat Iam speaking ob, "Tween youse and I, he married her fo’ her money. My mud- der wuz alwuz fo’ handed, she be. Bet dat she had fully fifty dollahs saved up, Dats de reas’n. He knew dat she wuz de wealthiest heiress in all Sullivan street, and he caught right on.” ; : Mulligan’s Boy, it must be owned, was rather glad of Pete's family misfortune. Did it not secure to him a confederate and an ally? ee) Further questioning developed the fact that Pete's animosity by rec ot step-father was due to a severe licking received by him but a night or so before at the hands of said step-parent, simply because Pete had abstracted a quarter from his father’s (by proxy) coat, and spent it riotiously in candy and_ cakes. Therefore Pete was perfectly willing to flee with Mike. That agreed upon, a very important question came up. ; A person cannot flee, except he walks, without money. Even if you flee in a street car it is going to cost you five cents. Mike’s and Pete’s finances, all told, resulted up to seventeen cents, cash, which was not a very .large capital to start a runaway expedition upon. ‘ They realized the fact. . , What was to be done ? ; They both itated over the problem. Pete was the-first to solve it. f “T’se got it, dead suah!”’ he ejaculated; “ wese ’ll sell boss done tole a party de udder day dat de bird was worth five hundred dollahs!’’ Mike soonresolved. - | ! “ Bedad!’’ exclaimed he, “we will sell him; for seventy-foive.” ‘ : 4i\, The cook was away at the bakery, and had been away for fully an hour. There was a nice youn baker, with his hair soaped down over his forehea and parted square in.the middle, who presided over the destinies of the bakery, and as he came from the same part of Ireland as the cook, it was actually re- markable how long it took her to get the pastry for the eyening supper, She had only been away for twenty minutes, and Pete knew by experience that it would be fully twenty minutes more before she returned, and as Mr. O’Dowa was away, the cook’s absence would probably be ex- tended to half of an hour, if not more. The only person, therefore, left in the household was the housemaid, and she was up in her room, fixing up, as it was her night out. Bt. an and Pete had the coast clear to abduct the They went down into the cellar: The ostrich was there tied to the foot of the refriger- ator and feasting. off of a stray soda-water bottle, which chance had placed in his reach. He was in a very tranquil mood, He followed Mike and Pete asif he was a pet dog, instead ofan overgrown bird. They walked him up the kitchen stairs and out upon the sidewalk. ““ Who'll we sell him to?’ questioned Pete. Mulligan’s Boy considered. While he was consideri his eyes fell upon the three golden balls, by which Mr. Levi Isaacs, who lived opposite, designated his trade, - “Tl tell yez what, Pete,” he said, ‘“ we'll not sell, the ostrich.?? “ Why not?’ Pete asked. 4 “It’s me uncle’s ostrich, and it would not be fair to sell him. It would be almost aiquil to stealing ; 1 have a betther idea. We will go over to Levi Isaacs’, ied pawn him. We’llsind the ticket back by postal card.” So with the ostrich, which continued to act beauti- fully, just as quiet and nice asa Sunday-school scholar ont upon an anniversary walk. : He went right into Mr. Isaacs’ loan-agency, causing a small boy, who was trying to get five cents upon a battered frying-pan, to leap precipitately upon the
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20 MULLIGAN'S BOY. counter, under the idea that a circus had broken loose. id Isaacs nearly fainted. **Shacob on a golden calf!’ cried he,“ vot vos you got? Dake it avay!” “ How are ye, Mr. Isaacs?” inquired Mike, while the ostrich, catching sight of 4 scale upon the counter, reached over his long, ugly head and began nibbling at it. Mr. Isaacs yelled with fright: “*Poys, poys, pud id owit!’ he begged; ‘“‘ vot you pring him py here for, anyway?” “We want to hock him.” “Hock him? Good Moses! I vouldn’t lend a cent on dot ting for the voridt, He——” Mr. Isaacs’ remarks were interrupted by the ostrich Besides, he attracted too much attention. Groups of small boys and flocks of giris followed along in his wake, and surreptitiously pulled on its tail feathers. Mike grew alarmed. Suppose a policeman should arrive. He, of course, would want to know where they got the ostrich, what they meant to do with him, and other unpleasant questions, for two small boysare not apt to stroll leisurely around in the society of an ostrich, 5 ““We’ve got ourselves into it,” groaned Mulligan’s Oy. “Shuah,” groaned Pete. “What will we do with the baste ?* * Kill him.’” il viii Hil Hi i li ih All ) | i i | » ae i The butcher, taken by surprise, retreated back a few steps. “What the deuce have you got there?” he asked. ‘““An ostrich. Wont ye plase buy him?’ Mike begged. “Buy him?” “ Yes, sir.’? “What tor?” “*He’s good to eat.” “An ostrich is?’ ° “Certainly, sur. In the ould counthry ostrich steak is esteemed as adelicacy. The queen has it regular for her lunch. The butcher laughed, : “I guess I can get along without ostrich steak,” she Hi HN nM i ae rg fi \ Hil Sain A | i | i | i a | HH * Get ep, Joe.” making a dive for the skull-cap which ornamented Mr. Isaacs’ bald pate. “Rebecca at the yell!” exclaimed he, his face white as a sheet, as he succeeded in dodging the bird's ar- tempt, ‘‘ auf you don’t get owit with dot vot-it-yos I'll holler for a boliceman, und you vill be put in jail.” Joe—Joe was the horse-—did get “ep,” ra aE ay <e PaaKy, “No, that wouldn’t be square. Various other plans were eyoked about getting rid of the bird, but none seemed to please. And the crowd was getting larger. The ostrich was heading a perfect procession. Boys and girls appeared to spring up on all sides, “We'’se only want sebenty-flye dollahs,’’ pleaded | while even people of larger growth did not hesitate to Pete. “You might shoost as vell ask for the earth,’’ said Mr. Isaacs, as he reached below the counter and grab- bed a big revolver, rusty with age, which was more dangerous to the person in whose hand it was than to the person at whom it was aiméd. This very fatal weapon Mr, Isaacs pointed af the ostrich, The ostrich did not seem to be the least scared. He calmly protruded his bill for the pistol. Mr. Isaacs hurriedly retreated. “ Auf you don’t dake dot defiil right avay owit, s’elep me gracious I vill plow owit his brains. The next thing he will be eading up the gounter.”’ The boys saw that not a penny could they get upon the ostrich. So they backed him out. “Sold. Ns Go? " a Those were their remarks upon the failure of the ne- gotiations, while Mr. Isaacs called to his wife in the back room. ! “ Rebecca, yoost come owit and help me put up the shutters. I vill glose der peesness dill dot ostrich vos daken right owit of sight. Moses, vata peast! I nefer vos so near death in my life, not even when I daken a Russian bath.” The boys walked along with their ostrich. ’ He began to be a white elephant. Ostriches are all right enough in a cage or in thej mative desert, but as a companion in a stroll a ostrich cannot be said to be pleasant. swell the array. Mike and Pete were overwhelmed with questions. “ Whatis it? “*Ts it good to eat? ““Oan you ride on it?” “Who's is ity? “Does if belong to a circus ?”? ‘What's it’s name?” * Was it born here? ‘Where are you going with it?” “Can it swim?” “ How old is it?” “Ts it male or female?” To which catechisms Mike answered at random that it was an ostrich, was elegant to eat, belonged to a rich gentleman up the street, was named Clara, was born in Ireland, could swim, was one hundred and five years old, was a female, and they were taking it out for an airing. The cayalcade proceeded for four or five blocks farther, Mike and Pate feeling as fine and cheerful as condemned criminals en route for the gallows tree. Suddenly a butcher shop appeared in sight. Desperately Mike steered the ostrich towards it. The meat of most birds was eatable; why shouldn’t ostrich meat be very fine? : Maybe the butcher would buy if. The butcher stood outside of his shop, round and rosy-faced, as all butchersare. Whoever saw a lean or care-worn butcher ? = The ostrich pageant stopped in front of him. - pee He darted forward, puiling th e-surprised driver nearly off his seat. answered, laughing till the top of his head looked like an island, Mike felt that his last chance was gone, What could be done with that awful ostrich ! PART XI. PETE and Mulligan’s Boy felt that they were at their last resource. The butcher declined to purchase the ostrich, ane What was to be done? - Doubtless it was valuable, but if an article is worth fifty million dollars, if you cannot sell it it isn’t really worth a penny. So Mulligan’s Boy desperately said: “Will ye kape it. It will dhraw big custom.” The butcher winked at Mulligan’s Boy, He knew him by sight; knew that he belonged to the O'Dowd family. “Who owns the bird?” he queried, “Is it not A)- derman 0’Dowd’s ?”” Mulligan’s Boy confessed that it was and in a spasm offiction stated that the alderman had got tired of it and desired to obtain it temporary headquarters. “Put the bird in a cage and exhibit it in the windy,” farther spake Mike. ‘Faix, ye will win its board ina fortnoight.”” The butcher seemed to be convinced by the argn- ment. . “All right,” he replied; I’)! take it,’ Pete nuded pee r “Youse hain’t solided youself,” he whis d,, « Solided mesilf?”? ik 7 Yes.” “How? __‘“Get a receipt, or clar to de Lawd, he will tink some- fin funny.’? Mulligan’s Boy dropped to the logic of his sable com- panion right away.
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21 ‘s Will ye plaze give me a bill ay delivery for the os- rich ?” requested he; ‘*me uncle will want it.” The request seemed certainly reasonable, and the butcher made out a receipt for the custody of the os- trich, He was not one-quarter as expert with pen and ink as he was witha cleayer,and while he was laboriously writing it out, Mulligan’s Boy wrote out a message to his uncle. That message and the butcher’s receipt tor the os- trich he sent by a boy, hired for the errand at the mu- nificent sum of ten cents, to O’Dowd’s residence, Then the two lads got out of the butcher's bazaar as quickly as possible and made tracks for a ferry, For a brief space we will leave them. We will return to. Alderman O'Dowd. | | ) Va Ty About eleven o’clock that night a carriage drove up in front of his habitation. From it alighted the alderman himself, From his appearance it was easy to denote that he had indulged too much in the convivial bowl, His hat looked as if Jumbo had sat upon it, his coat Was covered with dirt and dust, and he was puffing away upon a lead-pencil, which he seemed to mistake fora cigar. © y After a heroic but ineffectual effort to induce the carriage-driver to take a brass trunk check for his fare, he finally fished out a trade dollar, which article of legal tender being accepted, the driver left. By good luck the alderman succeeded in getting up the steps of the stoop without more than half a dozen falls. F He attempted to open the front-door with a cigar, a tooth-pick, and a jack-knife. All of the attempts proving unsuccessful, it finally dawned upon his be- whiskied intellect that a key was necessary. A trial ofall the keys dependent upon his ring fol- lowed. The right key naturally was the very last one. By strenuous exertions the alderman finally got the door open, and in about fifteen minutes he accom- plished the feat of shutting it after him. . He then took a careful survey of his surroundings, to be sure that he was all right. Convinced of that fact, he slowly ascended the stairs. While so doing, his encounter with Mulligail’s Boy occurred to him. He laughed over it, and its remembrance, altogether, aiforded him a great deal of pleasure. “Shure I can fale the sthrain upon me arm yit, from me muscular effort when I chastised him,” he said, without a stutter or a hiccough, for the alder- man, although, to use a popular expression, might be as “fall as a goat,’ he never stuttered or hiccoughed, *Bedad, I belave I will lick him again. It will Kape as blood in worruking ordher and prevent dyspep- sia.’? The idea tickled him hugely. While he was chuckling over it, and slowly and with difficulty mounting the stairs, he beheld in a corner an old ball club of Mike’s. He grabbed it, “opis jist what I daysire,?’? he uttered. “I will soothe the bust ay his undher-garments to the quane’s taste. Begob, it will be a piece of sudden and justly- earned rethribution to chastise him wid his own ball- stick, Me arm aches fur exercise, anyway.”’ The alderman went by easy stages to the room of his nephew. It was locked, ! i i TLS i lf Hi | He tried the door-knob several times before he re- alized the fact. Then it suddenly occurred to him that he had locked it himself, H A tedious search for the key ensued. He knew he had put it in one of his pockets, but which one he was not really able to decide, So he looked through them all, some of them three or four times, and at last discovered it. His eyes brightened with expectation as he unlocked the door. “Be jabers, I will foind Cordelia’s darlint aslape,”’ he muttered, as he took a tighter grip of the ball club; i *tis mesilf who will wake him out of his dramy ray- pose,” He stumbled into the room. All was dark. A fall over an obtrusive rocking-chair and a collar- and-elbow wrestle with a lounge convinced him that a light was necessary, *“ Michael!’ he exclaimed, in a voice which if it was a trifle husky was dignified, ‘‘loight the gas. It is I, yez uncle, who ordhers it.” But all was quiet. No answer came to his injunction, He repeated it. All was as silent as before. “If the bye is aslape it must be the slape av the dead,”’ he soliloquized; “if he is playing possum, Hough, not an unfriccaseed bone will I lave in his yar? He fell over a second cham, and was knocked clean out of time by the bureau; then, after repeated calls for Mulligan’s Boy, which repeated calls, of course, were not answered because Mulligan’s Boy was not there, it occurred to him that he might just as well strike a light himself. He did so, The match, fora wonder, blazed steadily, and he, after various unsuccessful efforts, located the gas-jet, and, turning on the gas, ignited it. The first object which met his view was the open window, with the clothes-line yet secured to the bed— and Mike nowhere to be seen. Befuddled as the alderman was, the truth burst upon him. Mulligan’s Boy was gone—escaped from his tem- porary durance. The alderman sank down into a convenient chair. “Parthially it is me own fault,” uttered he. ‘I should have locked him up in the sub-cellar where I reservoir the coke an’ coal. “He has fled. But niver moind, it is back he will be, LU wager, before morning.’ \ He patiently waited. Twelve—one—two o’clock struck. No Mulligan’s Boy. The alderman began to feel sobered. Was it possible that Mike had actually ran away? Three o'clock, The alderman, worried as he was, succumbed to sleep. His eyes closed, his head fell upon his breast; soon he was wrapt in slumber. _ He awoke about nine the next morning with a feel- ing that his head was as big as a barrel. He gazed about the room in a dazed sort of way, “What the devil am I doing in Mike's boudoir,” he queried, “How did I get here? Shure, I knew that Mike O’Leary’s whisky wud knock me clane out, for it is the koind they use to blast rocks wid. sh Here the recollection that Mike was gone dawned upon him. “JT recollect now,” he uttered, “how I got here. I came up to chastise Mike, and Mike wasn'there, Itis escaped out av a balcony window, hoop ta Romeo and Juliet, that he has. Bedad, I will have to put skilled detectives upon his thrack.” He went down-stairs. The house-maid met him at the foot of the flight. “ A Jetther, sir,’ she said. He took it and opened it, not, however, before he had questioned her about Mike. All she knew was that he had left the house with Pete, at least she supposed Pete was with him, for that young darkey had not shown up at all that morning. The letter added to the alderman’s woes. It was from his wife. She stated that she was still too ill to come home, and concluded as follows: “Take care of Michael. If anything should happen to that dear, sweet, innocent child, I feel that 1 would go wild. I will hold you strictly responsible for his |—
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22 MULLIGAN'’S BOY. welfare. Let him come out Saturday night to see me and stay over Sunday.”’ The alderman turned pale. Here it was Friday, and Cordelia wanted Mike for over Sunday. . 7 Besides qualms of conscience were smiting him. He pean to wonder if really he had had a right to lick Mike and lock him up on a bread and water regime, There was one thing palpable. Mike must be found. Without waiting for breakfast the alderman went down to the station-house to have a general alarm sent out for Mike and Pete’s apprehension. On the way he passed the butcher-shop. A big crowd was congregated outside of it staring at the os- trich, which occupied a prominent place in a temporary eage which the butcher had put up for it during the night. The alderman paused in surprise. He recognized his own property being used as an at- traction to draw custom for somebody else. He walked plank into the butcher’s store and asked of the butcher, who was merrily executing a duet with two choppers upon a piece of beef, where he got the “Hallo, alderman,” said the butcher, “where did I getit? Why, it was left here.” “Who by?” “Your nephew.” “* Mike 77? “Yes. 4 “Whin ??? F “Last night. He wanted to sell it.” “Ye didn’t buy it?” ““Course not. I ain’t a buying ostriches, so he left it here in charge of me; said you had got sick of it |? “The rascal. Who were wid the young Belzebub 7” “That nigger of yours, Pete.” ‘ “Jist as | suspected,”’ groaned the alderman, ‘‘ They are in aich other’s society. The idea av Mike disgrac- ing himself and his relatives by eloping wid a coon. As for the ostrich, ye can kape it far a while, I have other matthers tooceupy me moind.”” ne went to the station-house and had the alarm sent ou ‘ Then he returned home. There was a second letter ready for him, The writing was that of Mulligan’s Boy. Its contents were as follows: - “ DEAR UNCLE O’Dowp:—Pete an me are in trouble. We have been kidnapped for a reward, and are in a cellar beneath the grocery store kept by the Dutch- man at Highth avenue and starving. Come for us at once. wwe “Your affectionate nephew, > ; “MIKE? The alderman hardly waited to put on his hat, Kidna; . ; ipped. : **Begob, the Dutch scoundhrel has done it to obtain areward, They.are well aware ay me pecuniary lib- erality, and expict, doubtless, to reoae a Hoe ransome for Mike. If it wur not for Cordelia, divil a penny wud they get, fot. if it wur not for family in- fuence I wud dance an sing wid joy at the bare fact av me‘nephew by marriage being kidnapped. Butas it is, must scurry to the rescue.” For a second he thought of invoking the aid of the police, but it occurred to him that if he did the affair would get into the papers, and Cordelia would become aware of the incidents of the t day or so, and the alderman had @ pretty well defined idea that he would haye'it made decidedly hot for him. »So he resolved to cans, on the enterprise single-handed,. ‘He’called a cab, ‘A street-car or stage was too slow for his heated blood. ° 2 He drove up before the grocery-store designated, which was kept by a Mr. Woltertam, with a flourish, Mr. Woltertam, a fair specimen of the average Ger- man green-grocer, came out. He thought it must be some new customer, and visions of the profits to be derived from a customer who could afford to come to his grocery in a cab filled his head. ‘* Vell, sir, vat can I do for you?’ he asked. The alderman fixed a look upon him which ought to have petrified him—only it didn’t, ““ Are ye the grosaryman himself?’ he queried. “Yaw,” smilingly replied Mr. Woltertam. The alderman’s face reddened with determination. “Come into yez hall av vice,” said he; ‘I want to spake to ye in seclusion.” ae poees, wondered at the request, but complied Ww Through the usual labyrinth of boxes, barrels and baskets to be found in the interior of a grocery store, he conducted the alderman to a little room in the rear, As soon as the alderman arrived inside he shut the oor. His next move was to pull out a revolver. we revolver he placed square at Mr, Woltertam’s mple. The grocer was fairly paralyzed with fright. “Mein Gott, vot vos you mean?’ exclaimed he; “vos you grazy ?”? The alderman smiled frigidly. “ Orazy, Fe villian!” he answered, “ ye will foind out the method ay me madness. Produce the byes.” The grocer was staggered. “* Vot boys?’ he questioned. The alderman gave him a glance of knowingness, “* Perhaps ye may dissemble, but ye cannot dayceive me,” he uttered; “unlock yez cellar, or begob I will blow yez bhrains to the four quarters av the earth. a a ; holocaust av intellectuality will I make ay nem, Mr. Woltertam seemed paralyzed. He opened his mouth as if to cry for help. Mr. O'Dowd was right onto the action. head!” spake he. what I say. while his finger played ominously with the revolver’s trigger. tor ye to attempt a deception upon me. failed ignobly. is av no avail. ranean quarthers beneath yez ould potato bazaar. With him is also a naygur.”? offered as a proof of the reality of his words to take the alderman down into the cellar. . O'Dow click of a bolt being sprung outside saluted his ears, Mike be, tho rock of street. We are two poys locked out in my cellar. tol und boimts it avay from my head, und bleasantly bromises me dot if I don’t gif ub dem poys dot I vill be | killed righd off. Dot vos agreeable.” dakes him down und shows him dot he vos a liar, dot de cellar yos — Den my head vos sc safe mein life.” cellar. be I casual oud for a boliceman. Und Otto——” “Vell.” for “ Open yez fist-neh and a bullet crashes through yez “T want me nephew!” “Vot you means?” gasped the grocer, almost as pale as the sand which, so said popular repute, he placed in his own sugar. ““ What do I mane?’ repeated the alderman. ‘ Just I want me nephew.”’ “You vant your nephew?’ repeated the grocer. ““Vot vos I got to do py your nephew? Who vos you, any vay?’ The alderman drew himself up to his full height, “Ye Dutch outlaw,” he yociferated, “it is useless Yez plot has Ye may thry to play innocent, but it Ye have me nephew Mike in subter- The Dutchman protested that it wasn’t so, He The alderman consented to it. - The down a flight of stairs to the cellar, y which was just about as dark and damp and dreary as a cellar could well be. ; A sudden idea came to the grocer. He step aside to let the alderman pass in first. did so. Slam ! The heavy cellar door closed behind him, and the He felt a clammy feeling of fear creep over him. He, too, was a prisoner. He yelled to be released. : All the satisfaction he received was the sound of the. grocer’s retreating footsteps upon the stairs. “J am thrapped mesilf, he exclaimed. ‘* Where can ten Pi The cellar was dark, but gradually his eyes grew used to its obscurity. A careful search convinced him of one thing. Mulli ’s Boy or Pete wasn’t there. e Satistied of their non-presence, he commenced to kick ae A at the cellar door and pound upon it with his han He = ad as well have tried to batter down the raltar. in ; Meanwhile the grocer had rushed up-stairs. ‘‘ Otto,’* he excitedly said to his red faced, flaxen-haired clerk, “T yos been safed from death by a miracle.. You pe- hold dot veller dot goomsin a little vhileago mit me? “Yaw,” replied i “Vot youexbecthe yos?? = “Vot?? : “ Grazy.”? : Otto in turn looked surprised. “You say he vos grazy ?? “Yaw. He vos a vild maniac, Vot yousubbose he | 1 a “Vot?? ; ‘He dells me dot I vos a child-sdealer, dot I vos got He broduces a bis- “Vot you do? “Otto, I demporize.” “How ?” “Thumors him. Always humor grazy'beoples. I ainted mit poys of either sex. hmall, but dere vos lots in it und I ““Vhich vay??? gs “1 Jets him go in first, den I shuts him fast in the He vos dere now. You sday py the sdore “Tfhe should preak oud vhile I vos avay, dere vos de oldt revolver pehind der gounter. Don’t hesitate for asecond. Shood him righd down.” Otto promised, and Mr. Woltertam hurried ont in search of a policeman, For a wonder he found one. He explained his errand. The policeman hesitated, : ‘* How big is the maniac ?"’ questioned he, “Six feet,” exaggerated the grocer. “Strong ?? “ Yoost like a pull.’” “Got a pistol, you say?” “He vos got vun in his hand, and I dinks I sees nine or twelve others sdicking oud of his bockets. Dere vos also a lump beneath the breast of his coat, dot I dakes fur a cutlass.” The policeman reflected, If the maniac was so strong, so fierce, so well- weaponed as stated, it would be sheer lunacy to try and capture him alone. He rapped for aid. A roundsman and two other officers responded. The first officer Sepia the situation, and the whole four started to the grocery story with the air of men who were carrying their lives in their hands. Arriving inside, the aldermian’s voice could be dis- tinctly heard from the cellar below. j He was swearing and threatening in language, which if not chaste, was certainly very forcible. He was concluding a vociferous declaration that if the blank, blank, extra blanked Dutchman didn’t ap- pear right away and let him out, he would proceed to set fire to the house. ‘You vos hear dot,’ exclaimed Mr. Woltertam, fairly shivering with fright. ‘He vill purn down der honse—und he means efery yord dot he yos rebeat.’’ The policemen unbuckled their clubs, and guided by the grocer, that is to say, guided to a certain extent, € was very careful to keep in their rear, even ~ — “ Wha's de go de ride. conductor ain’t obserbing!”’ _|senger whose fare was not paid. -| heads were Mulligan’s Boy and Pete. _ blood in de air, while he indicated the route they were to follow to the cellar, came in front of the door behind which was O’Dowa. He had heard their footsteps as they approached, and frantically appealed to be let out. ‘‘ Whoiver ye are plaze to raylease me,” he bawled, “Tmay be catacombed for loife. Let me raych the Dutch kidnapper an’ I will fill him so full av holes that ye kin see to read a newspaper through him, He has kilt or carried away me nephew.” The alderman was wrong. The note which he had received, signed by Mike, was but a lark of Mulligan’s Boy, After placing the ostrich in safe quarters Pete and Mike had gone to Jersey City. They sought the Erie Railroad depot. At first they desired to go to Nevada, but investiga- tion revealed the fact that if they could get to Newark upon their cash capital they would be luck They held—vwell, not exactly a council of. war, but.a council of cash. And Pete had a great idea. ub paying?” said he. “ Letussteal Wese kin catch right onto de train when de Mulligan’s Boy was willing. It might be wrong morally to defraud a railroad corporation as they pro- posed doing, but boys of our hero’s age are not apt to taRe much stock in such an issue. So. it occurred that a certain train which moved out of the yard bore upon each step of acertain car a pas- The two dead- PART XI. THE two lads sat complaventivaipon the steps of the car, while visions of future Indian-hunting filled their heads. They felt that at last they were en route for the t3vest, where the noble Indian resided, ana where they could win fame and glory as’ his sworn foes and destroyers, ¢ se For awhile all went well. te The train sped swiftly over its iron pathway and the boys held firmly on to the guard rails of the car plat- form, ean’ “ How’s dis,’ grinned Pete, “free ride?’ . ‘“‘Bedad, ye are roight,’? Mulligan’s Boy replied, “shure, it is ourselves who have run away in Inck. Ye owe the good fortune to me, for do not ye recollect the ould proverb, ‘The sun shines all the year around in ould Ireland’ j ye ‘Dat ain’t so,” Pete answered. “Why not?” : yee “De boss is Irisher, ain’t he?” ri? “Ye mane me uncle?”? Ba “a Tes.?? r. ¥ %, - “* Ay coorse he is.” * “Golly, den de sun ain’t a-shinin’ fo’ him, fo’ when de"missus gets home an’ finds yonse gone, dah will be Dah won’t be a hair left in de ole man’s head, fo’ dat yere cranium ob his, after she hab done got frew wid him, will look like de sole ob youse foot.’ ‘ es ‘It will sarve him roight,’”’ eesti gerents Boy, “for ifhe niver had laid his hand upon me, hiver would Ihave run away. Hould on toight, we are about to span a river,” 2 4 Sure enough the train slowed up as a river—the Passaic—was crossed. a | had the train occurred to our heroes. The conductor arrived. He caught sight of the pair of ride-stealers. “Tickets!” he exclaimed. Tickets! f He might as well have asked them for diamonds, The only ticket Mulligan’s Boy possessed was a. ticket for a raffle which he had picked up injthe street, and Pete’s ticket consisted of a ticket for soup. They grew pale as they looked at each other and then at the conductor. : *“ What—what do you say?” stammered Mulligan’s Oy. ’ RirteKetst “For what ?? “Not for the circus, certainly,” sarcastically an- swered the conductor. “I want tickets for your ride, Hurry up!” Mulligan’s Boy felt in every pocket, then he cross- examined his hat, Not a ticket or part ofa ticket could he find. “T’'ve lost ‘em, he said, trying to disguise the tremble in his voice. “You have??? said the conductor, suspiciously. “Where were you bound for?” “West,” replied Mike, vaguely. “How far?’ Mike'wasn’t very well acquainted with American geography, so he replied at random: ‘“*Boston.”? s The conductor pulled the bell-rope, “My dear boys,” he softly said, “if you are going West, via Boston, by this road you are greatly left. Bounce!’’ and he caught on to the coat-collar 6feach one, Mulligan’s Boy protested. “oTain’t my fault if I lost me ticket,’’ he uttered. “ Of course it ain’t; accidents will happen,’’ sweetly murmured the conductor, “You lost your tickets by accident, didn’t you?’? P “ got across before a calamity “Well, you will loose your train by accident, also— off you go!” The train by this time had arrived at almost a full stop, and the conductor, who, if he was not very large, was at least very muscular, yanked Mulligan’s Boy and Pete off upon the track.
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“Good-bye, go to Boston on foot,” was his last salutation, as pulling the bell-rope twice for the train to start, the locomotive snorted away and the long line of cars moved on, leaving Pete and Mike stranded in the midst of a low bare meadow. Pete gazed after the train till it was nearly ont of sight. Then he produced, with exaggerated solemnity, from his rear pocket a very dilapidated and dogs-eared blank-book. . From a second pocket he took a pencil, a blunt- pointed, chewed-end pencil, which looked as if it had nee through several severe battles—and got the worst of it. ‘‘Youse noticed dat conductah particularly,” he ask- ed with a determined air of Mulligan’s Boy. ‘See if de description dat I am ’bout to engrave upon dese tablets am correct. De conductor am rather large.” Mulligan’s Boy coincided, Pete made anelaborate note of the fact upon his blank-book, first wetting the pencil’s point with his mouth, ‘Got whiskers?” “Yis.”? “Red “ Yis.?? “Torn up nose?? =~ “| belave so.’? ““Bine eyes?” “* Correct.”? “Bleshy 2”? beh 2d “ Has big feet?” “ Bnormous.” “ Wart over his eye ?’” “precisely; I noticed it.” . Pete put down all of the above questions: in his blank-book, and returned it to his pocket. Mulligan’s Boy’s curiosity could be read in his eyes. of What are ye afther putting all av that down for?” asked he, 3 _ “Kase he is marked for death,”? was Pete’s reply; “ge rules ob de League ob Death’ implicitly state that all enemies ob de League are marked fo’ death, don’t dey? : Tunigan’s Boy acknowledged that such was the fact. “De conductor,” went on Pete, “has proved hisself to be an enemy ob de League by his actions in refer- ence tous, If he had been a friend he never wud have put us off ob de train. Ain’t dat logic?” Mulligan’s Boy owned that it was, . Henceforth that conductor would be placed on the archives of the League as a doomed man, a being set aside for destruction and death. Yet even for all that there were secret feelings in their souls that they would just as lief, at the present writing, be in the conductor’s apres a He was being rapidly whirled away to Newark, nded amidst the salt meadows, hou What’ll tll we do ta Mulligan’s Boy. Pete's resolve was firmly stated. ‘© We'll follow the train,’ said he. So along the railroad track they proceeded for sey- eral weary mile: . Mulligan’s Boy began to wish he had never left home. while they were not a house in bea it. It reads all nice enough in fiction about rnnning away, but when it comes to fact if is very different. The gilding all comes off the wood as it were. Mulligan’s Boy’s feet hurt, for he was not much ac-. customed to steady walking, the sun burnt the back o his neck, and he felt hungry; awful to a boy than hunger # “ Bedad, I wud give all ay me earthly wealth for a ginger-cake,”’ he uttered, ‘An’ whin it refers to pie, [believe I wud massacre me great-aunt fora sliver ay mince.” “ Brace up,’’ said Pete, who was plodding sturdily along. “Isee a house. We may be able to strike it fo’ a meal.”” Sure enough, a house was visible just around a bend of the track, Drawing nearer they discovered a sign upon its side, “Liquors and Refreshments,” A look through the window discovered the fact that the bar-room, so-called, was @ small apartment with a diminutive bar, but what appeared to be a well-fur- nished lunch-counter. _ At least half a dozen pies, & glass bowl full'of erul- lers, a plate heaped up with pretzels, and a platter of sponge cake were visible. Indeed, it was a perfect ecca of refreshments to the two famished lads. There was but one being in the room which held all of this wealth of physical refreshment. The being was a female, stout, red-faced, and plainly of German descent, if she was not from the Father- land herself. She was seated behind the bar sewing away indus- triously, and occasionally humming some German air. Her face was broad and guileless, and the worst of facial students could tell that she was guileless and unsuspecting. : That imp of a Mulligan’s Boy at once discerned the fact, and an idea of great depravity occurred to him, “Pete,” said he, “ye are filled with starvation, are ye not?” é Pete replied in forcible, if not polite metaphor, that his stomach was akin to a balloon, that is to say, its only contents were air. i “Ye wud loike a whack at those pretzels and pies and crullers?” further spoke Mulligan’s Boy. Pete’s answer was perfectly satisfactory. In effect, he responded that he would sacrifice his chances of being a nice, clean, darkey angel with a golden banjo, for a show at one of those pies, and what feeling is more |. MULLIGAN’S BOY. “Thin we'll go in and get whisky,” said Mulligan’s | fairy just then, Boy. Pete kicked, 23 It seemed so benevolent, so anxious to get the German maiden out of the scrape. “ Fraulein,” whispered he—he had picked the word “De idea ob spending all ob our cask fo’ whisky, | up Somewhere, and knew it was German for “ young when we kin buy somefin fo eat,” said he. ‘Ise ain’t | lady—‘“ maybe we can come to terms,” a fool if Lis a cullud kid. is now—in what State?” “New Jarsey.’? “Correct, yet youse ax for whisky. Jersey ey, so mammy tole me, is made fo’ de benefit ob dé undah- taker. Two drinks puts a man in de morgue.” “Thin if we only take wan we will only get into the hospital,’? philosophically remarked Mike; ‘‘as it is we will conclude in nayther, Watch me, an’ take only a moistener ay yez tongue ay the sthuft. plot worthy av a conspirathor that I have.’’ Without further explanation, he entered the little house of refreshment, "Sides youse know whar we Tis a | spoke she. She stopped crying right away, “How you means?” asked she incredulously, “You fix us,’? “Vot vay?” ‘See us.?? “Vasn’t I see you now?” “Stake us,?? She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “I vos not don’t Know vot you vowreferring apout,”” “Vot you mean py ‘fix’ and ‘see,’ and ‘stake?’ ” Mulligan’s Boy vented his feelings in a groan. ‘“Be Heaven, the ignorance av the Dutch. is appall- The German girl put away her sewing, and ad-/ ing,” said he. “Ye wake Seg ak them in simple yanced forward. English. Fraulein, I mane that if ye make it worth our Mulligan’s Boy went up to the bar, and knocked bold while we will kape it dark. Nota soul will know that as brass—and brass could not-be bolder than Mulli-| ye sould us the poison. The saycret ay yez whisky- “ot kind you gan’s Boy when he wanted AE the counter, “Goot vhisky,” was her reply, “Two? At a venture Mulligan’s Boy ordered Rye. Hisexample was followed by Pete, who was glad ike’s face assumed a severe expression. 1 stifffoine. It is two hundred dollars or two hun ye will be held culpable for,” _ aes i ‘““Vot vos you mean ?” she queried. voice was firm. “Are we The female dispenser of drinks was forced to admit “Were,me swate Mary Jane,” leered he, ‘‘ have ye any whisky ?”* * hy vants?’? s What kind haye ye?”? \ “What are they?” * Der regular stand-pys—Rye und Pourpon.” The girl bar-keeper gave them a liberal horn, each. Mike barely tasted his : enough to put down his glass, for the first sip of the fiery stuf brought tears right ito his eyes, “Are ye aware, Clara Hila,’ he spake, addressing the Dutch girl, ‘that ye have laid yersilf loiable to a days. Almost aiquil to three-quarthers av a year that The German girl’s enlarged optics expressed her The face of Mulligan’s Boy was stern and rigid; his “Luk at the pair ay us,” he remarked. men?” i i that they were not. The wildest exaggeration could not haye designated them as such. Sly Boy followed up his first query with a secon “Tf we are not men we must be byes?" he asked. The Teutonic maiden coincided. + “Dat vos id—of course you vos poys, » she returned, “ Vot difference it vos, anyways?’ ‘ Mulligan’s Boy placed his elbows upon the bar and leant over it. eile. He peered into the fair bar-keeper’s eyes. ; “Tt makes all ay the difference in the worruld,” Mike said, ‘“ ye not faymiliar wid New Jersey law? It states that if ye sell liquor (and ye will allow | bocket, und plow ub der house. He_ Their immature | of crullers. shapes and fluffy cheeks gave evidence to the con- | selling will be buried in the dark past.» : - Then, in the classic and dignified language of the ancients, shé ‘‘ tumbled.’? “Vot you yants?” eagerly she asked. “Oh, I yos so glad! Ifl vos got arresded vunce I would haye fallen down dead. Dake der whole sdore, goot boys, only don’t gif me avay.”” : } ‘ = on, we don’t want the store,” replied Mulligan’s oe ‘ Part of it will do. All that we daysire is pie and-_—"* yes ‘“* Cake,” put in Pete, ue ‘Boiled eggs.”? Bay) yh 2) 1. “ Sandwiches,” ” t * Pretzels.?? *‘ Root-beer.”? “Pork and beans.” ‘ Coffee.” ; Ci * Chewing tobacco,”? } ‘ “That, I guess,’? Mulligan's Boy said, ‘ will be all we want, er rhaps, a dollar bill for good Iuck.”? The Dutch girl sighed edly. - : “Id abbears to me,’’ said she, **dot you might shoost ° aati aide alias nao te about eating! — e way that down those ova’ trate wax territve, ““How’s this, Pete ?'? grinne “ Bully,” was aed 2 hatic reply. , but. e have a great head. “Bekase I ai born— ae are and e liner’s head is as big as his fate,” responded Mike, as he placed a glass of beer where it would do most good. — ig “TI wondher where me uncle is,” he chuckted pleasantly. bh ee Ah, yes, where was his uncle? whe He was in the cellar yet beneath Mr. Woltertam’s establishment, and the three policemen were at the cellar door, while Mr. Wojtertam and his faithful elerk lurked in the rear. sa “Take him dead or not alive,’’ said the grocer. “Hurry ub, He might have nitro-glycerine. py his aid pefore dat that whisky is liquor) to minors, that ye are loiable to | he vos apoutto set fire py der house, and he yos @ fine ay One hundred dollars, play or pay. hundred and fifty days solitary confinement ina popu- lous prison.” : The girl turned pale. But she tried to pass it off with a laugh. “You vos fooling,’? she uttered, me taffy.” : Mike’s face assumed an expression of intense earn- estness, 5 La) ““Leddy,” he said, ‘“‘ yer swate face has enthralled | niacs before, me sensibilities. ’Tis gone on ye am I.” and one | shoost as lief plowitub!.. - The alderman’s voice was again heard. ; “Let me out! let me out !’? called he. “Let me out till I luk for me nephew,’” . The request was followed by a perfect fusilade of “Vos you giffing | kicks and pounds upon the door, which made the policemen quail in spite of their official courage. “Shoot him through the door,” said Woltertam. ‘““No,’”? said the roundsman. ‘ye managed ma- His halluciation is that his nephew is concealed somewheres around. He must be humored. The Dutch girl seemed surprised at the address, and | Let me manage the case.” Pete—well, he was actually paralyzed. “S*pect dat he studied it outer a news-store winder,”’ he soliloquized. ‘Golly, but de words am gallus.” The Dutch girl was the first to recover her faculties. “Vos you dink I could be soft-soaped?’? queried she; ‘if you vos, you vos left. I vants dwendy cents,’’ “ What for?” ; “ Swei vibrigoe “Ye heard what I related relative to the Jersey law about selling liquor to minors,’ said Mike; ‘‘ every worrud av it is as thrue as wan av St. Patrick’s ser- mons. We are spoies.” “Vat? she ejaculated, ‘“ Spoies,”” The Dutch girl shuddered, He called out: “Who's that inside?” “Me,” came the answer, “Who’re you?” é ‘“Bedad, ye will foind out if iver I get out.’? “Your name ?? “None, av yez darty business.” ‘““What are you doing in there?” “Luking for me nephew.” “Who's he ?? “A male bye. Who are ye?? “Roundsman McNeal,’? ** Av the police?” . © ¥es,?? The alderman’s voice became joyous, “Jist whol want,” said he. “Let me out and thin At that time there was a great agitation against liq- | arrist that despicable thafe av a grocer. Let me iver uor, These agitations do break out occasionally in | place me hands upon the sucker and it is doomed to New Jersey, and spies and temperance reformers were | death is he. Shure I follow him to the tail av the greatly abroad in the land. : “You vos demperance spies??? exclaimed she. “ Praycisely,” returned Mike, ‘‘We are employed comet.” 2 Mr. Woltertam shrunk back in horror. “Mein Gott, und he means efery word offit. When by the Society for Suppressing Drink to convict liquor | you get him out Joad him up mit shains. Put anchors dalers undher the law av 1493, which says that liquor | ubon his hands, and hand-cuff his must not be sold to minors. Ye see, we report to the society, and upon our evidence ye are sint up.” “ Mein Gott!’ she exclaimed, “und Otto vos avay. feet. “Be still,” said the sergeant in a whisper, then aloud to the prisoner: “You say you want your nephew?’ If mein brudder vos only here!” “Yes.?? : ‘But he was not,’ Mulligan’s Boy gleefully re- * How old is he?’ marked; and, in fact, Mike was very glad that “ mein bit = n. brudder”? was not there, for Otto was probably, judg- “ Trish 7” ing tants from his sister’s build, a stout, broad- ‘“Yea,’* shouldered Dutchman, who would’ have made little |. ‘‘ Freckled face?’ ean of bouncing them out of the window or through ne door, “Vot vill I do?? wailed the Dutch girl, wringing her hands and bursting into tears. “The disgrace of be- ing arrested vill ruin meinself,”’ Mulligan’s Boy’s face looked like that of a good “oPis a mud complexion he has.’”* “Well, he’s right here now.” “Wid ye?” “Yes. ‘Have ye arristed the Dutchman?” “T have.’?
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24 *MULLIGAN’Ss BOY. a nai eel ane PES “Blessed be Heaven. Let me out.” The roundsman turned to his assisiants: “When he comes out be ready to pounce upon him, Now, ready.”” He took the key from the Dutchman’s hands and un- locked the door. The alderman plunged wildly out. In a second he was pounced upon by the two police- men and thrown down; he was taken, of course, by surprise, but he fought and bit and kicked and scratched like all possessed. He was not an equal match for both together, al- though he might have easily done up one. Finally he was laid flat on his back, while the roundsman ce a cord, with which he securely fastened his hands and feet. ao nl i i | ani ill | — Ss SSS i iM SSS The train had arrived at almost a full stop, and The alderman struggled against the ignominy, but it was useless, “Ye tiends—ye divils!’’ he shouted. witches—ye——” F “Phat willjdo,” cried the roundsman, “it’s all right, old fel. You can’t help being crazy.” As for the grocer, he was wild with delight. “ Holdt him down tight—holdt him down tight, and | vill shump onto him,’ he exclaimed. “Ye sons av PART XIIL. THe alderman, tied though he was, bent a glance of malignant vindic iveness upon Mr. Woltertam. If looks could have killed, the green-grocer would have become the relic of a bygone era immediately. But looks do not kill, except.a look down the bar- rel of a shot-gun to see if it is loaded. So Mr. Woltertam survived, flushed with joy, for did he not suppose that at his feet there lay, bound and tied, the dangerous maniac? He danced about the prostrate body of the lunatic, uttering cries of joy. _ “Purn down my house—plow me ub, vill you?’ he interrogated. ‘I guess not, py likewise. Dere vos a day so coldt dat dere vos snow py der ground when I vos get left. Und don’t you vos forgotten id!’? “Porgotten it!” exclaimed O'Dowd. ‘ Bedad,whin } forget ye there will be an eclipse av the sun at mid- noight. Luk out, me Dutch daisy, for it is pansies will be growing above yez grave before a week passes.” “Vos dot so,’’ said Mr. Woltertam, “ but I vos not make my will on account of your words. Pefore a veek basses, you will pe sitting py yourself mit a pad- ded cell in a lunatic refuge, a drying to keeb the mon- keys avay from you. Officers, dake him avyay.”’ The officers obeyed. They picked the alderman up as if he was a bundle of dry goods, or an old rag-bag, and carried him up- stairs. They dumped him down upon the floor of the store. “Of course he is mad—mad as a March hare,’ said the roundsman, ‘‘ but we will have to comply with the requisite legal forms all of the same. He must be taken to the station house and have the police surgeon pass upon his sanity or insanity.” The alderman heard the remark, “Tnsane, am 1?’ he cried, furiously; ‘‘ well, if I am insane, George Washington wur likewise. Are ye aware av me identicality—who [ am?’ “Who?” asked the roundsman, soothingly. “Alderman O’Dowd. Ye haye heard ay me? It wur mesilf who introjooced the bill that ivery Chinayse i Assit ) Pl | | | the conductor, who, if he was not very large, was at least very muscular, yanked Mulligan’s Boy and Pete off upon the track. laundhry be required, undher pinalty ay the law, to hang out a grane flag St. Patriok’s Day. The mere mention av me cognomen should stroike rayspect to yez hearts, fur did not Felix O’Pake, who kapes a fish- Stand at Fulton Market, whin he is not wroiting poethry fur printers’ calendars, say that me name wud blaze wid a fiery luster upon the pages av Irish History nixt to O’Connell’s. And Felix wud notlie, fur seyventy- foive cents fur vanilla, soda and gin rists against his name, if me nephew Mike has not eradicated it wid spit and sponge.” This was a long speech for O’Dowd to make, but he had his reasons for making it, He had found out that one of his arms was not tied as tightly as the other; that he couid by a slight exer- tion get his right hand into his coat pocket. In that pocket was a knife. And while he was squirming and twisting about delivering his speech he succeeded in reaching the knife. It is usually a very hard task to open a pocket- knife with one hand, but a man in a desperate situa- tion will ofttimes accomplish things which seem really impossible. He managed somehow to open the knife, withdraw it from his pocket, and draw its keen blade across the ropes which bound him. : The roundsman noticed the action when it was too ate. ¥ ( ae, jumped forward, but O'Dowd was too quick for im. The alderman with {a yell of triumph, was upon his feet, a free citizen. He deftly tripped the roundsman up and sprang at Mr. Woltertam, who seemed struck rigid at the turn affairs had taken, Smack! Smack! Two powerful blows from the alderman’s right fist landed upon the green-grocer’s tace. The alderman’s blows were not like a summer zephyr, but rather like a western tornado, The first one staggered Mr, Woltertam, the second knocked him off of his feet. : Behind him was @ tub of lard just opened. When he went over backward he sat right square into it, and as he was a manof considerable bulk, sank for an inch or so into the greasy mixture. The alderman beheld the effect of his blows, yet he was not yet satisfied. Otto, the clerk, had been drawing syrup from a keg near by when the row began, and had half-filled a gal- lon measure. hie Be FE ; The measure was yet upon the floor in front of the seg. f The alderman picked it up, and quick as a flash dashed it down over the grocer’s head. The sticky stuff ran down over his shoulders and upon his breast. “oTis the first installment ay me revenge!”’ yelled O'Dowd; “ faix, if ye go stand outside av yez dure, there won’t be a fly in the ward that won’t be upon e. Ye will oceasion fly-paper a dhrug in the market in this vicinity.” * The alderman did not notice, So pleased was he at the discomfiture of his enemy, that the roundsman had arisen and made a stealthy sign to his two subor- dinates, They knew what was meant. They threw themselves suddenly upon the alderman, and secured him again before he was fairly aware of what had occurred. “Weve got you, now,” said one of the officers; “ get away if you can.” The alderman realized that they had “ got him!” He resolyed to adopt a new line of policy, “Ye say Iam mad?’ he questioned, “Yes, sir,” politely said the sergeant. “Ye want to convey me to the station-house—the hotel where the grane lamp burns broightly every noight.” ‘Yes, sir.” i “well, bedad, I will go wid ye, peaceably if I can, forcibly if ye must, but upon one codicil.” “One what??? * Codicil.”” The sergeant scratched his head. “ What does codicil mean?’ he at last asked. ‘The alderman gave him a pitying glance. “That is what comes of placing hod-carriers upon the police,” said he, “1 thought every Zulu was aware
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MULLIGAN'’S BOY. 28 that codicil meant term. I willexcuse ye, howiver, as me language wur probably too tall for yez mental stature. Therefore, I will lower mesilf to yez intellec- tual level, I will go wid ye upon one term, that I do not walk. I will not be disgraced by being seen in the society av New York policemen.’? “You want a four-horse barouche, I suppose,’’ sar- castically said the roundsman, “Anda band of music and flags,” said one of the policemen, ‘All the whole four horses white,’’ said the other. Even Otto, who was trying to extricate his boss from his difficulties, put in his oar. ‘*A four-horse parouche!”’ he ‘ejaculated, ‘“‘ Vell, if dot yos not a scheek I yos not ayare vot vos. A four horse parouche! Send for the Black Maria.” a my il IN Mh il A iH TT wz wn Uae | il ri f “ Be Heavens!” he exclaimed, with great veliemence. “I will have revenge for this indignity. “Ye better send for a crow-bar to take that molasses jar off av yez tyrant’s head,” retorted the alderman. *‘ As I said before, I will not walk.” For a wonder, Otto had an idea, “You said you vould not valk?” interrogated he, ‘*'Yes,?? “But you go some oder vays ?” “Yes,”? “ Any vayexcept py your feet?” ‘Paix, ye have called the turn,’? There was a smile of triumph upon Otto’s fat face as he Jeft his boss to struggle with the molasses, and the jar which contained it, for itis not at all easy to get molasses off of your head and shoulders after you once get it upon you. ) “Vait shoost a minute,” he said; “I vill fix ital right. Iseddles dot maniac.’ Se saying Otto ran up-stairs. Presently a noise was heard as if some heavy ar- ticle of furniture was being bumped down @ stair- way. Soon Otto, redder-faced than ever, appeared. He was not alone, He had society. The society was in the shape of a trunk, a trunk of a large size and foreign birth, evidently, a trunk which, from all appearances, might have been used to carry the underwear of the ark’s passengers. Otto landed it upon the floor with a resoundant thud, and wiped the perspiration off of his brow with his coat-sleeve, ‘“‘ Dere it vos,” cried he, triumphantly. ‘““What?”? puzzledly asked the roundsman, as he looked first at Ofto and then at the trunk. “Dot lunatic’s four horse parouche. He said dot he vosn’t don’t valk ??? “tTrue,?? “But dot he goes any oder vay?” Tl ‘* Correct.”? i Oito’s broad face appeared broader yet from its ex- pression of delight. “ Dot vos der reason dot I carries dot drunk down,”’ he uttered; ‘“‘shoost put him into id und dake him avay to der sdation-house in id.” The roundsman had a fair idea of humor, and he could not repress an unofficial laugh. © Good idea,” he said. ‘‘Mr.—Mr.——” “ O’Dowd—Alderman O’Dow4,”’ dignifiedly answer- ed the alderman, “Thanks, Mr. O'Dowd, as you call yourself; please get into that trunk.” The alderman kicked, That is, for a minute or two, “Do ye take me for clothing that I shud be put into Tuna i i) i" Mt | il ii | wil : | | | AAA Mh ii Tt fra: i | | | i — i Hi a iis 4 ah i Hl til i | i; ie il Wn | Pr : ! LS R a G tt aldhermen carried about in a trunk!” a thrunk?”’ he said. ‘“ Begob, lam not a pair of ould socks or a chemisette.” The roundsman was equal to the occasion, “You pledged your word, sir,” he said with great gravity, ‘that yon would accompany myself to the station-house, to find out whether you are crazy or not OFAzZy, as long as you did not have to walk. Did you not? The alderman was forced to answer affirmatively, “Then that settles it?” returned the roundsman. “You won't have to walk, for we will carry you there in the trunk. Please get in.” “A gentleman houlds to his word,” replied O'Dowd, after a temporary hesitation. ‘‘Mucilage does not stick as fast to tissue-paper as mesilf to me worrud. I will enter inter the dry-goods refrigerator. Saycure me if ye plaze, for fear I may elope via the key-hole.”’ He was partially secured and placed inside of the trunk, The lid was shut down. Otto produced the key. “Lock him ub fast,’’ he said, “for if he vos efer get avay he vould goom righd pack here und oxterpate all ofus, Idon’teven pelieve dot he yould sbare der dried cod-fish,”’ He handed the key over to the roundsman, who locked up the trunk, placing the key in his pocket. Then ‘the procession moved out of the store; the two policemen carrying the trunk, while the rounds- man walked in the rear asa vanguard. Hardly had they got out of the store, before Mr. Wol- oh emerged from both tub of lard and molasses He was @ nice-looking sight. You could not have'seen his face for the layers of still dripping molasses upon it, and you could hardly tell what color his pants were for their layers of lard, “Otto,”? he gasped, ‘vos he gone? | | | ‘“* Der maniac ?? “Yaav.?? “Safely gone?” “Yaw? “Den, Otto, put ub der shutters, und—Otto!’* “Vell py? “Put ub a pill of sale.” “Vot for?” “Otto, yos you a shackass ?” “ Nejn,?? "Den vot for you asks me vot for? Otto, look py . me,” Otto looked. Much as Otto respected his master, the mixture of molasses, lard and Teuton was too much for Otto’s risibilities, / lh is.an insult to all av New York City to have wan av its, He burst out into a whole-souled guffaw. Mr. Woltertam appeared to have expected this out burst of merriment, and while he seemed a little grieved was not at all resentful, ‘ “Otto,” he remarked, “I yos not plame you for laughing. I suppose dot I vos a sighd fit fora dime museum in der yax. vorks department.’ I pets dot if I yos to look in der glass I vould laugh like plazes at meinself, Otto, 1 yos aruined man, Dot vos der rer I vant you to put up der shutters and a pill of sitle. Otto seemed puzzled. “T vosn’t can’t see why you vos ruined,” he said, “Otto,” slowly said Mr. Woltertam, “you petter go to Congress, for in spite of your denial you vos a shackass. “Mein coat is ruined, ain’d id?” “Yaw,” phlegmatically said Otto, “Vell, dot coat cost me dwo tollar und a quarter at wholesale, und der puttons on dat coat vos vorth dot money alone. My west vos ruined,” “Yaw.” “Dot west I pought at an auction sale, und it vos dear at fifty cents. Und my pants—dey yos utterly proke ub?” “Yaw.” { “Dot pants I prought from the Vaterlandt, mein Gott. My gransyater vears him , mein vater vears him, I years him, Next veek Mr. Mangels yos to drade me a new milk can for him. My whole wardrobe yos proke up, und der pizness can’t afford such exdraya- gance, We will have to economize, Otto,” “Yaw.” “Put der pottom of all the an inch; und, Otte ”—— “Vell.” “Pe sure und blay der hose in der milk to-morrow morning. Somebody vos got to bay for dot? maniac; und, Otto,—— quart measures up half
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26 MULLIGAN’S BOY. *Yaw.?? Fs “How much molasses you dinks I vos got ofer my ead.”? Otto, after a studied survey calculated that there was about two quarts. “Two quarts,’ repeated Mr. Woltertam, ‘and how much vos Mrs. Courcy, at 208, get last yeek ?”’ “Two gallons.” “Den shust scharge her py two gallons und a half. Ifshe kicks, Otto, put it down py some other sucker vot you dinks vill stand it. Dot vaste of molasses vos got to be made gootsome vay, efen if I dakes id oud of your salary.” With which remarks, very pleasant, especially the last part, for Otto, Mr. Woltertam went up to his bachelor bedroom—for Mr. Woltertam was a bachelor. “A vife vos money thrown avay,” was his public rea- son for celibacy. Meanwhile the trunk, the two officers, and the roundsman were proceeding on their way to the sta- tion-house, which was several blocks distant. They were followed, needless to say, by a crowd, for the spectacle of three policemen escorting a trunk was enough to gather a crowd. A great deal of interest was manifested as regards the contents of the trunk. Some said it contained the body of a murdered man; others, that it was filled with plates, the result of the seizure of some counter- feiters; but the wildest, and therefore most popular theory, was that it was Stewart’s long-missing body found at last. The station-house reached, the officers went in, leay- ing the crowd outside, which crowd, as usual in all such cases, proceeded ‘to. peek through cracks, which gave a view of nothing, to flatten their noses against windows, whose white-washed surface prévented any observation whatever, and to peer through the area railings at the dam barre te at its end. The y undsman and his satellites had ‘carried the vate Pe and deposited it upon the floor of the station-house. Ge one ee Zi Fora wonder the captain of the precinct was at the Pr leet tala ate : og As a rule you will find ca of precincts any- where’ else ‘bat at the stat puhoube.. Occasionally, however, you will catch one of them on duty, and this happened to be one of the rare occasions. Soka wae oaeptioe at 1 Ov , in duty bound, the salute given him by his subo} : . | “Maniac, sir,” answered the roundsman. The ee eae sternly at the respondent. ' : hon you been drinking ?? questioned he. SNOmsita? ee pon gee — 0a a Poses all your faculties?” 1 “es; isire?- - yt Nee ; “Then whatare you giving me?” - “About what, sir?” Pau you had a maniac?’ sir.’ : ‘“Where is he. All I see is a trunk.’ “Maniac is inside of it, sir. : aa tain left his post behind the desk and came around front, Sage ; : ““ What do you mean?” he asked. — Thereupon the roundsman, with a secret smile at his Lyla Bee related succinictly and truth- it had taken place. . 4 rs )ptain listened as if he was half in doubt as to le capt ] beh moe aaah ite abst ee pen the trunk,” finally he ordere The order was obeyed. Tal the ie from his pocket, the roundsman un- soon as the lid was lifted, the alderman sprang out like a madman. “Be Heavens!” he exclaimed, with great vehe- mence. ‘I will have revenge for this indignity. It is an insult to all ay New York City to have wan av its aldhermen carried about in a trunk!’? if the captain was surprised before, he was doubly surprised now. : The alderman was ofthe same political party as him- self, and he was perfectly familiar with his face. “Alderman O’Dowa!” he uttered. “Wanst if wur Alderman O’Dowd. but hereafther it will be Avenger O’Dowd. The whole police force will suffer for what I have had to suffer. And as for that Dutchman, I will avenge mesilf upon the whole race. I will have a municipal ordinance put through that no Dutchman will be allowed to kape a beer- saloon or a grocery. Begorra, that will cessate the whole German emigration.” So the alderman kept on, although the captain tried to calm him, ' It,was of no use for awhile, for the alderman, ban- pret as he was, was not to be checked in his invec- tive. All things, though, must have an end, and finally O'Dowd paused from sheer exhaustion. Then the captain took him into his private room, and reasoned with him, Besides his tongue, the ca tain had two other aids which were as valuable, in all doubt more valuable in a certain degree than his eloquence, said aids being a black bottle labeled “ Old Rye,” and a prime cigar. Beneath the three insidious levers of harmony the fiery little alderman grew calm, and related his tale. “But, captain, dear, Kape it S.K.—strictly quiet,” he requested, “‘foritis a disperate dilemma I am into. I wud rayther face a cannon’s mouth than face me Cordelia’s frown whin she foinds out her nephew is not in me custody.” , The captain promised. ‘Really,’ said he, “I cannot conceive the affair. You say you received a note from your nephew ?” pavement of the area and the | him. three officers and What have you got there?” asked he, after —— a “<1 did, sir.” “In which he statedithat he had been kidnapped and Sed ina cellar beneath Mr. Woltertam’s store ?”’ Yes, The captain cogitated for awhile. ““Tt is very remarkable,”’ uftered he, “for I know Woltertam well. He would not hurt a flea, much rather kidnap anybody, opinion is, alderman?’ “Ido not.” “What kind of a lad is your nephew—is he a good Do you know what my boy ?”” F ‘The alderman gave a groan. ‘Paix, if he is a. good bye ye can paint the divil whoite,” he replied; ‘‘if ever there wur an encyclo- pedia av mischief it is Mulligan’s Boy, for by that name does he go.”’ “Just what I supposed,” said the captain; “ now, do you know what my idea is?” ; “What !?? “He and the darkey have run away, and have doubtlessly sent you the note which you received to put you off of your guard in respect to their true whereabouts. t is my solution of the problem, See if Iam not right.” -, As the captain finished speaking a messe rived. The superintendent desired to see police headquarters. " _ The message was imperative. So begging to be excused, he left the alderman, who, after borrowing a hat of the door-keeper, left for his home. The captain’s words had put a flea in O’Dowd’s ear. From his knowledge of hopeful nephew, affairs might be as stated, ’ et the fearful fact stared the alderman in his men- tal face, that if Mulligan’s Boy was not produced when his aunt arrived, there would be a fiery future for T ar- m at He felt that he had done wrong in chastising his nephew. — * If I hadn’t touched the omadhoun,” he solilo- hice “‘he wud not have run away. Bedad, I belave will go and make a vacuum in the water wid mesilf. I wud rayther meet wid a fluid grave thin a woman’s Ce : : oe ike & head mourner at a funeral the alderman entered his house. ‘ % ‘The cook opened the door. _ 3 ‘ : “ Arrah, Mr, O'Dowd,” said she, ‘I have a letther ue TS, os e handedittohim. It bore the post-mark of Newark. - The alderman studied the address. : “As shure as St. Patrick wur a Fenian,’ exclaimed he, “it is in Mike’s writing.’? _ or Sana weed Daina boys of their age always are 6 boys were —Dboys 0: i Ways 2 hungry—and they pat away, the eatables in a style which would haye made a dyspeptic weep with envy. Just as Mike was en; ng a pickle, and Pete was boxing with a pie, they heard a half-suppr but joyous amation from the girl Seer cect ae n’s Boy dropped the pickle. Pata ieopned th * d the pie. Fs “Mein brudder” was just the individual they did not care to see, They had a lively idea that “mein oe *? would make it the reverse of pleasant for em. ‘ ° Their suspicions were further confirmed when a glance out of the window assured Mi ’s Boy that ‘‘ mein brudder”’ was a sturdy, square-shouldered Teuton, with fists as big as hams, and feet fully equal in size to ordinary cellar-doors. Mulligan’s Boy’s resolve wassoon made, “Skip !’? he whispered to Pete. ““ Where ?”? “Out the back-door. Faix, if ever that pretzel-de- vourer gets us in his clutches it is mate for the morgue will we be. Lively wid yez pedestrian extremities.” Pete needed no second bidding. Out of the door went both of them so quickly that it took the German girl several minutes to realize that they had really gone. She stood stock still, with a stare of surprise upon her features, and looked at the stools at the counter which they had occupied. While in this posture her brother entered; he looked at her wonderingly. “Kadrina,”’ said he, ‘‘ vot vos der matter?” ‘*Matter,’’ answered she, “‘ dere vos matter enough. Vot you suppose?” “Votr” “T vos near arrested.” “ Arrested ?”” “Yaw, “ Vot for?’ “Dere vos two poys—two kinder—come in here. Dey vos ask for whisky—der pest py der house.’ “Dot vos noddings. American poys vos equals to anydings; votelse?’ — “ | gifes dem der whisky.” * Dot vos righd.”” “ Dey drinks id und den—und den——” “Und den, vot??? “ Dey arrests me.’’ eee rother looked at her as if he suspected her sanity. * Arresd you? vot you gifing me?” asked he. “ Yoost vot Isay. Dey said dot dey vos minors; dot it vos underneath der law to sell liquor to minors; dot dey vos spies of a demperance society, und dot dey _of der pack-door.” nee a slow rate of 5 3 ul boa vould dell dales mit me und I vould be locked up—un- less——”” “Unless vot?’ _“Ivould gif dem all dey vanted to eat und a tollar jiece.” Her brother’s face paled as he put the question: *“ Und did you?’ It was evident that he awaited her reply with great anxiety. It came. , “ Of course I did. Vot else vos I do” If there was a mad German in America that day {t was he. He dropped to the boys’ racket right away. “Kadrina, I could almost schoke you,” he cried; “dhree years in dis gountry und yet tooken in dot yay. I could pull out by meinself mein hair I vos so mad. You know vot dose poys vos?” “ Vote? ““Tmbostors.”? ; “ How you know ?”? “How I know? You dinks pecause I vos not natur- alized dot I vos a fool? I vos fix id all righd by der demperance sociedy veeks ago. Vosn’t I send der bresident a keg of peer. Oh, Kadrina, you vos der gause of me failing. How much vos dey eat?” - , en looked ruefully atthe ruins upon the lunch counter, “Three pies, a packet of crullers, four aigs, sponge- cake, fruit-cake, grackers und cheese, root-peer, sar- dines, dough-nuts,’’ enumerated she. Her brother gave a cry of anguish. , “Dot vill do,” said he} vhy didn’t you dake der sign down und gif dem der whole pusiness, und a tol- lar pesides—ach Gott! it dakes all of the brofit for the last month*avay, und J vill hafe to walk barefooted all summer, Vhich yay they vent?” | ; ‘They went away so gwick dot I vos hardly dell,” sorrowfully she replied, ‘ but] I dinks it vos oud Without another word the muscular Dutchman dashed out of the designated exit, fe “If efer I catches dose poys I vill make Vashington pie oud of dem,’ he said to himself. ‘For common sense I might yoost as well haf left vun of dem shut- ters. pehind der par as Kadrina.” f t He did not catch the boys, however, for the simple reason that they, after leaving the saloon, had dodged around it back to the railroad track. tes A freight Bath veeduat ¥ passing, and it was proceed- 1s Boy concluded that it would be safe to ace, for p-gr: and snorting of ine showed that she was pretty heavily handi- Pete was willing. es ig ee e would have plunged obediently into a boiling caldron if Mike had requested. 4 : So when the last car came along, they jumped for it from opposite sides of the track. . ‘a With their usual luck they pulled themselves in all right, and sat down upon the narrow platform, “Bedad, we are saved!” ejaculated Mulligan’s Boy, “Tf iver that Dutchman had a ght us itis bound for glory instead ay Newark wud we now be.” ; “Guess youse right,” chuckled Pete. “Dah wuz bad blood in dat man. Youse could see it in his walk. Hi! but we’se all right bbe de present time.’ = *‘Faix, Ishud blush, We are in a square meal.” “ An’ a dollar.” = ie ‘ Correct. Iput it away in me yest pocket. Here 18. - As Mulligan’s Boy spoke, he inserted two of his fin- ‘gers in his vest pecker ae They did not OR to clutch the dollar. He put in his whole hand, with a like result, His face lost its cheerful expression, A look of woe came into his eyes. “ Pete !? gasped he. “What?” answered Pete. “Do ye know what has befell me ?”” ‘“s What 9?! i “May I be caught in a snow-storm, wid no clothes on, if I haven’t lost the dollar !”” Pete nearly fell off of the car in his agitation. “Lost de dollah !’ he cried. ‘Den we might just as bie go back to New York. Where did youse de- posit it? “In my vest pocket,” returned Mulligan’s Boy, We ‘Tisn t dere now?” ‘No. “ Felt all ober ?? “Yes. “Turn your pocket outside in.” Mulligan’s Boy did so, Nothing except a bad penny and a knife with a broken blade were the products of the pocket. “Pm sure I placed it there,” said Mike; but in order to make assurance surely sure, he felt in all his other pockets, and even took his shoes off to be cer- tain that by any remarkable course of circumstances the dollar had not got there. The dollar, however, had not. “T's gone,”’ he at last was forced to confess, Peter rolled his eyes sorrowfully, “Youse must hab lost it while we waz running,” he said. ‘“ Youse made de mistake putting it youse pocket.” “Where wud J put if?” “In youse mouf, ob course. Dat’s where J putall ob my wealth.” “Begorra, ifI had as big a mouth as ye I wud,” re- torted Mike; ‘‘but ye nade not commit suicide. We will be rowling in goold whin we reach Newark.” “Or roUiNe on de railroad track if de conductor catches us,” dismally said Pete, “How is we going to roll in goid?”
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»MULLIGAN'’S BOY. 27 “Shure, I have not perused the papers for nothing. There wur @ racket worruked by a couple av jaynuses in New York-which we will emulate in Newark, and— here we are at the freight-depot. Git off.” True, they were near the freight-depot, and both got off, They climbed over the fence and went up the street towards the center of the town. , “Now,” Mulligan’s Boy remarked, as they strolled along, ‘I will revealto youmescheme. Ye are deaf and dumb,”’ Pete’s eyes grew bigger than ever. If they were like saucers before, now they resembled plates. ““Wha’ youse giving me?” he asked. “Jest whatI say. Wait till we git to Market strate. The big strate ay the town. Thin ye must pretend to be deaf and dumb, and exhibit soigns av great dis- thress, Lay on the soide-walk if ye wish and writhe. i dats ule ax ye what ailsye. Ye must reply——” “How kin se reply if I’se deaf and dumb?” inter- rogated Pete. “Ye will reply—nothing,” equably proceeded Mul- ligan’s Boy. ‘I will come up, converse wid ye by aid ay me fingers and take up a collection for yez benefit. All ye have to do is to kape yez mouth shut and lay on the side-walk and writhe, I will attend to the residue.” Pete did not exactly see his way clear, but he prom- ised to do as Mike said. So it came to pass, that when Market street, near the depot, was reached, and a convenient spot selected, Pete stood stock still upon the sidewalk, and began to roll his eyes and twist about as if he was either in great mental agony, or be affected with a severe visitation of cucumber colic. He was soon surrounded by a crowd. around him and beset him with interrogatories, ** Are you Sick ?”” % ‘. ‘ “What ails you ?” : “Who are you?” . “What's the matter with you?” * But Pete held his tongue, fi He only grimaced and contorted himself worse than ever. “ “What can ail ae ?” exclaimed one old lady; ‘‘ why don’t you speak 7 ‘ ¥ : Pete Re ae in his cireus-act for a second, and point- ed at his mouth and ears, while he shook his head. The old lady realized what he meant to convey. * Bless us,” said she, in accents of commiseration, “the poor colored boy is eo ae pi gue remark only added to the excitement of the crowd, ‘ aon “Ww e Here was a colored boy, in evident distress, who was deaf and dumb, and therefore could not explain the oe of his distress, Was it nota case seldom met with? Faby Therefore they pressed about Pete, as all crowds a marae began to feel just a triflescared @ pt, is grimaces going, but he did it with a} faint heart. Pete’s courage was never particularly wonderful, and it soon began to ooze out, as the say- ing goes, at his finger en at = ae esently up came a gentleman—a. sharp-featured, quick-acting Be het i be thirty-five or sixty-five, for all that his face or form indicated: one of these very-offen-met-with gentlemen, in fact, who, having no affairs of their own to tend to, always take a lively delight in that of their neighbor's, “Here,” said he, pressing his way through the “¢rowd; “ what is the matter??? ; His question was answered by a dozen voices. —- “Colored boy—in trouble—deat and dumb,” they all substantially replied. “Do you live in Newark?” : “About half a mile out, sir.” “You have a home?” ¥ “Yis, sur.” : y “who with?” Ne “Me married sister.’ : “Will you take care of this ill-fated lad till to-mor- row ?? : “Yis, sur’? Ge ; “Then take up a collection amongst the gentlemen and ladies present; and here is my card. Bring him to me to-morrow atinine.” : He scribbled an almost undecipherable name and address upon a blank card and hurried away, doubt- less glad to get rid of the whole affair, and mentally ‘Boy, pass the hat all ‘swearing about his dollar. Be frees le were just what Mulligan’s Boy de- - He went through the crowd with his hat, _ His own dime and the ‘general’s * dollar proved good hest-eggs. Quarters, ten and five cent pieces and pennies were thrown in at a lively rate, very few not contributing. Mulligan’s Boy felt that had fallen across a bonanza. “J wish I cua play this racket every hour,” he ie soliloquized, as he looked at the contents of his hat; |° ¢ Ee * strawberries wud Late in mid-winter if I wur able to, The crowd having been played for all that it was worth, Mulligan’s Boy felt that it was best to get out. He did a little more funny business to Pete with his fingers, and then explained to the crowd that he had told the supposed deaf and dumb boy just how affairs stood; that said deaf and dumb boy was immeasur- ably gratified, and that he (Mulligan’s Boy) would take him home. Mike’s address made a very favorable impression upon the crowd, and one ctable old party actu- ally put the two conspirators into a car. “Tm proud of you, my boy,” he remarked to Mike; “here is half a dollar, Take it, and pay your fare,” Mike, it must be owned, experienced a qualm of conscience. The old party was so honest, so sincere, such a nice aged gentleman in truth, that the proffered half dollar was refased, “Thanks, sir,’ said Mike, “but I have money av me own,” and before the old party had recovered from the shock of the refusal, the car had started, leaving him upon the sidewalk, looking dazedly after it. ‘The wore rode for about two blocks and a half. Then they got out and retired to a saloon near by. lt had @ back room, and into it they went. Sitting down at a table, they ordered a couple of ginger ales and two cigars. Their order was filled; then the waiter, who, besides being waiter was bar- Keer and proprietor, retired, lea’ ‘them alone. ‘How did I play it?” asked Pete, lighting his cigar. “Bully,”? returned our hero. ‘Are ye aware ay the paquriges value ay yez acting ?? “No, poor fellow out of his} “Guess.” “Did youse raise two dollahs?? “*More.”? a“ Free hd “More.” ° “Four?” . “More yet.’ “FKive?’”? ‘Raise the ante.’? Pete looked as if he could not believe it.” ‘“Lawa sakes alibe,’? uttered he, *‘’taint pos’ble dat youse got six?” E eer was a tone of quiet triumph in Mike’s voice, as e said: “Not six, be Heavens, but siven. It issiven dollars and eighty-six cints; ifit wur not for a lead half-dime that some darty cannibal putin, it wud be siven ninety- one that we are possessed ay.” : Pete drew a long breath. : “Golly, I didn’t tink dere wuz so much money in de i a he said. ‘‘Whatare we gwine fo’ to do wid t SY 4 0 Philadelphia,” said Mulligan'’s Boy, “at wanst.’ i Paying for their refreshments, they boarded:a train, and at evening were in the Quaker City. ‘The cost of their fares sadly diminished their capital, and therefore for that reason they spent the night at a a aes ten cents per lodger and a board lor a bed. ane: ce musew ored an were assisted in their exit by a lank gentleman oot to excellent ad- ay 2 ag trike: ‘ou?? he bawled, as they fled ‘the street? ay ter bust up the show. I'l ne that six dollars a week He seupped fakin as e ‘fn. his: ieee ae A gad ae appt ohare ocoure tobi. ys,’ he, “ w! you Bary aia “Nothing,” answered Rema 58 “ Want a job??? “= ees P al > cope yin eat Eietey. Ua Fo sree _ “The Twin Fat Boys, or—stay. ‘One of you—you— yourself—is white?” ” ie ett Shor ae SUE ge Saat ag “Mother black ?” HEY euler f “Black asa naggurcanbe.” ees ne The Jank gentleman rubbed his hand, in a satisfied . way. : La 7 aerWe, sakes Se: “Instead of the Twin Fat Boys I will announce you as the Fat Foster-Brothers,” he said. “If you want to make five dollars a week come rightin.” Needless to say they obeyed, They followed him to a dingy little den. just beyond he ance. which was dignified by the name of He shut the door and gave them chairs. “Sit down,” he said. ‘Now to business. Those. fellows yer or me ck out were my Fat Boys. They more w: : reset is a a 5 (e"Bpeat to me dat dey didn’t look very fat,’ said e! e Palas ns : % ““Becos they were not blowed up.’? ; : **Blowed up !” ejaculated Mulligan’s Boy. “Yes, Didn’t have their suits on.” The blank look of surprise on the faces of the lads caused the manager to laugh, He drew his chair closer to theirs, and a whispered conversation ensued, 4 Half an hour from then Mnuiligan’s Boy and Pete stood upon a platform, jnvenile mountains of flesh, while the lecturer blandly introduced them to an amazed audience as “ The Celebrated and Only Living Fat Foster Brothers,” PART XV. THE lecturer continued expatiating upon the won- derful merits of Mulligan’s Boy and Pete, alias the “Fat Foster Brothers.” _ “They are the most frenzied of all Nature’s phanta- sies.”” he said, ‘a miracle of human abnormality. Look at them! One was born at Cape Town, the other _ at Irkutsk, Siberia. By a remarkable series of circum- ° stances—see a small book which will soon be issued by us—they became foster-brothers. They are but eleven years of age, yet look fully sixteen. Their avoirdupois is fully equal to that of any man of forty- five, ifmnot more. The Caucassian brother—he of the white skin—tips the seales at three hundred. His ebony partner weighs a trifle less—only two hundred and eighty-nine pounds. You may search the world, ladies and gentlemen, from the torrid heat of the Equator to the frigidity of the Poles, and nowhere will you see such another couple.” Tke audience took it all in, They gaped and stared at the two flesiiy frauds. One nice old lady with spectacles and a green reticule. fresh from the rural districts, went up to Mulligan’s Boy. ‘ “Poor dear,”’ said she, “‘ doesn’t it hurt?” “What?” askec Mike, ‘The fat ?? “Oh, no.)
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28 MULLIGAN'S BOY. “Gracious! I should think it would, Were you born Bo 2”? “How? ‘* So fleshy.” Mike assumed his most innocent air. “Oh, no,” he replied, ‘“‘ mother said that when I wur a year old she had, whenever she left me, to put a copper on me.” “A what ?)? “ Copper.” “What is a, copper?” “A weight,” answered Mike, basely taking advan- tageof the old lady’s credulity. ‘She placed it upon me so that I wud not blow out ay the windy.” ‘Lord a massy! were you so thin?” “Thin! I war a fabric av bones; I looked just as ii a i | e somebody had drawn several sections av skin over a hen-coop. Me ribs stuck out loike plums ina pud- oe “But how did you get so fat?” “ Ating pie.” “Hating pie ?? i ‘“Yis, ma’am, J kept thin till 1 wur about five; thin I developed a gigantic capacity for engulfing pie. I ate fully eight a day, and the doctors said it wur the aerated gas in the pie-crust which caused me fat- ness,” ““T swan!’ ejaculated the old lady, holding up both hands; “who'd have thought it? Is your mother alive?” Mike’s face grew serious. “No,”? he said, sorrowfully. away.” “Done what?” “ Anteed up.”’ “What's that?” “She's setting the sun.” “Child, what do you mean?” “She's dead.’’ The old lady’s countenance exhibited great com- passion, “So you haven't any mother?” she remarked, “Not yet,” replied Mulligan’s Boy; “they come too dear. I advertised for one this morning, and she ac- tually wanted five dollars a week, and she was cock- eyed, and had a ceramic “leg in the bargain, Wudn’t ye loike to be me mother?” The old lady hastily refused. “Here is a halfa dollar,” she hurriedly said, thrust- ing the coin into his hands: “The next time I come Me pe sonny, I will bring you a real nice lot of arts.?? With this promise, shi ebbed away behind a crowd “She’s maneuvered Mulligan’s Boy and Pele stood upon a platform, ji of visitors who were en route to feast their eyes upon the Den of Performing Snakes. Mulligan’s Boy thrust the half-dollar in his cheek. “She’s an old daisy,’’ he said; ‘“‘wish the woods td full av sich as her. How does your suit fale, ete ? “ Golly, like a balloon,” was Pete’s answer. ‘ Bet dat if youse put a string to me an’ lemme go dat I float right up in de air.” The secret of their sudden adiposity lay in their ‘suits,’ which were really nothing but india-rubber, in fact skillfully constructed bladders. The two boys could be “ blown up” to any degree of corpulency. They were destined, however, to be “blown up” in a different way. The pin punctures set the compressed air free, and the rubber composing the suits flew in all directions. The crowd was thunder-struck; not afew were also rubber-struck. R They dodged, recoiled and hesitated. (Then did the asinine individual who is always found present in all cases of public surprise and excitement, promptly yell ‘‘ Fire!” and made for the exit, The rest of the spectators followed like sheep. They pushed and pulled, and fairly fought in their efforts to escape the museum. Coats were torn, hats smashed, bonnets destroyed and dresses damaged, in the senseless jam for the door, . The most scared one of them all was the red-headed Oy. Sl Celebrated and Only Living Fat Foster Brothers.” The next half hour they were exhibited again before a fresh crowd of wonder-seekers. The lecturer got off his usual parrot-like harangue, not a word of which did he ever vary. An evil genius, however, hearkened to it. The evil genius was in the shape of a boy—red-head- ed, big-eyed, and ‘‘ out on the lark.” He was of a doubtful and malicious nature, and he owned a big pin. \t occurred to him that it would be a grand and gree scheme to insert that pin into one of the fat boys. The more he thought of it the more it pleased him. What a delight if would be to see them jump up in anguish, and what a joy it would be to hear them howlin pain, He slunk around in their rear. A second thought came to him. What was the use of sticking one fat boy? - Why not stick both? “Qrickey, Ull do it,’” he"muttered. ‘“ My eye, what a racket! If Bill Jones and Nosey Rily were only here.” They were not there, so he had to execute his inten- tions unabetted, Steathily he got within sticking distance of Mulll- gan’s Boy and Pete. Like an assassin’s stroke did his pin do its fated work, Stick ! Stick ! : Irsank-into the suits up to its shiny head. -The result of the pin thrust did not substantiate his anticipation in one way. The fat boys did not jump up in anguish, neither did they how! in pain, ’ Instead, with a couple of loud reports, they exploded —bill! bang! wenile mountains of flesh, while the lecturer Dlandly introduced them to an amuzed audvence as ** The He had calculated upon no such’result of his prank, and he tried to escape with the others. Retribution overtook him. E He was knocked down by a tall man, Stepped upon by a Chicago young lady, whose feet rivaled coal-hole covers in magnitude, and journeyed over by the rest of the crowd; and when, finally, he did escape he felt as flat as a pan-cake, and was sure that his death was but a mere matter of a few hours. The crowd once out, they began to wonder why they had got out, for no smoke or flames were visible, “What was it?” they queried of one another, “The Fat Foster Brothers blew up,”? said a dozen voices. “ How??? No one knew. “Why 2? That was equally a matter of surmise, “Ts there a fire?" The popular opinion decided negatively. “Who yelled fire?” That also was a puzzle, It was being generally resolved upon to appoint a committee to return to the museum to find out, when the museum proprietor appeared at the entrance to his establishment, shirt-sleeved as usual, He held up his hand for silence, All was stillat once. Even a street car stopped. “ Ladies and gents,’’ he said, ‘you must excuse the sudden break of my museum festivities, but as per- haps you are aware, the Fat Foster Brothers have met with an awful accident.” “What?” anxiously asked half a hundred voices. “Dey have busted a lung.” Murmurs of horror arose from the listeners. The proprietor noticed the impression his speech had made, and struck while the building was going up.
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. 29 “De accident,’’ he went on, “ will notbe fatal. Dey will be repaired by der best medical students in tow nD, and will be on exhibition again to-night. Prices as usual, no raise on account of der accident.” He was as good as his word. The Fat Foster Brothers were on exhibition that same night, and appeared to a big house, or rather a succession of big houses, the incident being noised about all over, and finally getting into one of the even- ing papers. Meanwhile where was Alderman O’Dowd ? We left him just when he was opening the letter which he supposed to be from Mike. He was right. It was from Mike, and had been posted but a few hours after their entyee into the museum, It read as follows: il i : " ig ee a i Vc a ai in i - a | a4 hut ff | itt ih. a on se ea? “« Did she have spache wid Cordelia?” “Yis; andthe missus sint a ee ss “To me? “Yig.7" “Out wid it.” “ She tould Katie that owing to an elapse——”? * A phat?” ** Flapse.”? “Ye mane relapse,” sternly said the alderman; “the ignorance av menials is surprising, although me efforts to establish a public school for domestics at Castle Garden were crowned wid success.” “Relapse then,’’ said the cook, with a little show of temper, for, as every body Knows, cooks are not apt to be especially pleasant. Perhaps itis the heat of the fires which they have constantly to hover over which iN i mT Tl il f { { 2 me 4 4 The cook was suitably impressed, and mentally re- solved te strike fora dollar a month extra the very next day. Aman whuse nephew was a guest of the President Surely ought to be lavish as regarded his elp. She still had a second interrogation to put, and, woman-like, she put it. a is @ good dale av talk about Pate,” she said. “The naygur?” “Yis, sur,” “Me ‘hephew’s friend—me employee?” “Vis, sur.”? “ What is the motive av the gossip?” “They say he’s gone, too,’ The alderman now knew that his fears were realized, His hopeful charge and the darkey were off together. Tne i | as \ Al iit Au NA i A The fat boys did not jump up in anguish, neither did they howl in pain. Instead, with a couple of loud reports, they exploded—biff! bang! ‘“* PHILADELPHIA. “DEAR UNCLE,—We have escaped from the Dutch groser. For secret reasons we have come here. We are now with Barnum’s circus. Look in the monkey- cage for us, “Your affectiona ve nephew, “MIKE MULLIGAN. “P, S.—Please bring me my pistols, some Denver Dick libraries, a pack of cigarettes, and my shinny- stick. Also some money anda razor.”’ The alderman perused and re- perineal this precious epistle. ra Philadelphia—wid Barnum’s Cireus—in the mon- keys’ cage,” he said, ina dazed sort of way. “Phat does me hopeful nephew mane? In the monkeys’ cage. Be heavens, he has found his level at last. I wud wut able to lave him wid his ring-tailed associ- ates.” But he was not able, Just then the cook came in. ““Mr, O'Dowd, plaze,” she said, with a curtsy, * Well, well!” impatiently ejaculated he. “Twud spake to ye.” “ Spake away.” “ Ye know me sisther?? “ What sister?” “ Katie; the wan who married Claude Casey, the cobbler.” * No, I don’t know her; nayther do I want to,” “ Faix, ye sint her a wedding- -present.” _ © pwar upon sows, 's§ account, not hers. He -president av a Burial Society, and conthrollis ‘itty votes., What av her?” *« She has been out in New Jersey.’’ **T don’t care ifit war New Zealand,” “ She saw the missus,” “ Me woife ?”” dries up their milk of human kindness, and makes it acerb, ‘The missus sent wurrud that ye wur to take particular care av Masther Mike, for owing to her re- lapse—I belave the term will suit ye now—she will not be home for a wake or two.”’ The alderman concealed his feelings. ‘** All roight, Norah,’’ said he. Yet it did not seem all right to Norah. She had observed that Mulligan’s Boy had not been home for several nights, and Pete’s mysterious disap- pearance was a topic of gossip in the neighborhood. So she lingered, She hesitated about the door until the alderman no- ticed her loathness to leave. He turned sharply upon her. iste fairy av the oven, phat are ye linghering for ?” said he. “May I ax ye a question ?”’ she asked, ** Av coorse,’ C Beegging yeu pardhon for the liberty, but where is —where is—— “ Who?” “Masther Mike. The quilt upon his bed has been unruffied for several noights,”” The alderman was equal to the occasion. “The Presidint’s son,” he uttered. “wura play- mate avy me nephew’s, Whin the Presidint’s son wint to Washington he wur lonely, He sint mea cable dispatch, axing as a personal favor, that I, as guard- ian, lind him Michael for a brief space. Being a man av feeling I consented, I knew how it wur mesilf, for whin I wura bye the most poignant anguish av me loife wur caused by me divorce from a pet crocodile to whom I wur bound by the ties av juvenile affection. Michael is at the White House, with three soldiers kap- ing gaara at the door ay his bed-chamber ivery blessid noight.’? By a strong effort he controlled his emotions, and looked careless, ‘Av coorse Pate is gone,’’ he remarked, “‘ and ay coorse ye do. not know where he is—do ye?” “No, sur.’ “T will eka ye his whereabouts. The O’Dowds are a family av rank and distinction, Bedad, the first king ay Irelandj after the Flood wur named O'Dowd. Michael is a mimber av the family—by marriage—and av coorse he has the family reputation to kape up. I wud not sind him to the Capital widout a servant. Black is all av the rage now, so I sint Pate wid him as & body-guard. Divulge that to the strate it will make Cassidy, the green grocer, crazy, for, ever sinee he shuk hands wid Grant, it is been placing himsilf as the society idol ay the neighborhood, has he.” Muchly Hef ites cae by her master's words, Norah bowed herself out. She did not see the vindictive glance or the shake of the fist with which O’Dowd followed her exit. “Thank Heaven, she has gone!” ejaculated he. ‘“Niver again will T have a domestic in me domicile. I will do me own housework afther this, ’Tis a thrait- orous lot av spies and snakes-in-the-grass are they. The idea av me being compelled to lie to a pot-wrestler to save mesilf from Cordelia’s wrath and the jeers ay the vicinity!”” It took several circuits around the room to partially appease his wrath. Mg he became calm enough to sit down in a chair. The chair was by the table, and upon the table rest- ed man’s—at least the average man’s—panacea of all human miseries and woe—that is to say, tobacco. The soothing weed was in the shape of a cigar, a good cigar, too, one of those aromatic cheroots which ve a gilt life-preserver around them, and only come
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380 MULLIGAN’S BOY. one in a box, which the alderman had got at the fun- eral of a brother alderman. He lit it, and as the clouds of smoke arose up in the air, he began to consider the situation. Cordelia’s relapse, while it might be deplored in one sense, was in another a blessing. It gave him time to go to Philadelphia and seek ont Mike and Pete, for he was very well satisfled that where he found one there could he find the other. “T will go to Philadelphia,” he said aloud, ‘and take me darlint nephew out av the monkeys’ cage, although if me own inclinations wur consulted, I wud lave him there until he grew patriarchial.” : im accordance with his resolution he packed up his valise, Its contents were few, but yery useful. A clean shirt, a night-shirt, a flask of whisky and a handful of cigars were all at first he considered neces- sary, but afterwards he put in a pack of cards, “T may catch a sucker at three card monte upon the train,” he said. His valise packed thusly to his satisfaction, he put on Bh hat, donned a light overcoat, ana called to the Cook, “Norah,”? said he, ‘‘’tis yesilf that will have to maneeuver the house till larroive back, . Ye can do as ye loike wid it, Derg pooner in the kitchen.” he cried out in astonishment: “Where are ye going to, Mr. O’Dowdad?”’ “Sandy Hook,” answered the alderman, with sur- prising presence. ‘I have an en; ment with Par- nell to settle the Irish Question. He comes over dis- guised as a bale ay cotton Ltt a fishing smack, espe- cially to meet me. For political rayzons he dare not meet me in New York, so I am forced to confer with him off on the Hook.” , : Wise The cook Ls ta to feel herself a very important in the service of such a great man. TTY, ita and embe down the street, now and then Yip co process mi ss ¥ time he could do it. If he succeeded, hé tch a fast express; if he did not, he would be compelled to wait tor a slow way-train, which stop- ped at all of the regular stations, irregular stations, within whieh time and Coat upon the way. . He started otf at a brisk pace. ae he gone a block before a voice called: “Hey! by APES He turned around. The owner of the ward him.” ‘s ar ; ' He recognized said owner. + \y It was one of his colleagues in the Board of Alder- men, a Hebrew gentleman named Levi, a nice enough tellow, but. an awiul talker. ced Wa Ee ‘Hello, Misther O'Dowd,” he said, as he drew near. “IT vant to speak to you avhile.”” — : s “Ye will have to hurry,” impatiently said O'Dowd. “Why?” “Tam going away.” “You vos?" ‘Yeg.'? “Where to?” “ Philadelphia.’” “Right avay ?? 4h Yes.’ , “Vat fur ?? “ Business,’? ‘* Brivate or public?” “Private, hat do ye want, fur it is mesilf who has nota troifle av toime to spare.’” ‘* Moses, you was in a hurry ?”” ‘A great hurry.” “TI vos sorry ?” “Why 9? “T vos got a sdory to tell ye. Moses mit de Red Sea, you vill langh oud grying when you hear it.’’ O'Dowd looked as if he would have liked to have taken Mr, Levi, and garnished otf the sidewalk with voice was leisurely walking to- hate him. “That is a noice thing to stop a man who is sweat- ing for a train, with,” he said, ‘‘Save it until nixt we encounter ourselves.” Mr. Levi would not agree. He had just heard the story, and he felt that he could not rest happy until somebody else was told It. : He caught the alderman by the coat. “It vos not often dot you gatches onto a chance to Jaugh like dis,” he observed; “ pesides, dere vos drains for Philadelphia allerwile.”’ : Mr. Levi had a firm hold of his coat, and Mr. Levi was a great deal biggér man than 0’ Dowd. If he had tried to tear himself away, it is very likely that he would have got his whole coat torn off of him, AH the little alderman could do was to grin and bear it, but his grin was one of compulsion. ‘Der sdory,” began Mr. Leyi, ‘‘ vos apout a veller who vent into a glothing sdore und asked fur a bair auf summer-poitom pants. Summer-pottom, you see, vos a schoke—dot vos vhere der fairst laugh gooms in. He should haf said ‘spring-pottom,’ but he didn’t—he said summer-pottom. Vot you sbose der yeller vot run der blace said ?”’ The alderman confessed he did not know. ‘“* He said dot-——”’ Here Mr. Levi paused. His face became anxions and care-worn. He scratched his head, and actually let go of the alderman’s coat. “Shiminy Moses!’ he ejaculated “if I vosn’t don’t forgot vot der veller vot run der blace did say; und it vos der funniest bart auf der sdory!’? PART XVI. IF glances could have: killed, assuredly Mr. Levi would have been killed by the light which balefully was emitted from the alderman’s eyes. He, however, did not peters his peril. He stood scratching his head, vainly trying to recol- lect where the laugh came in, in the story which he was about to relate. “Give him warm water.” ‘Stand him on his head.” « Send for a stretcher.” “Who's got a stomach-pump ?? “Run your hand down his throat.’? “ Shake him good.” The alderman was paralyzed for a minute, so sud- den, so unexpected was the onslaught of his would-be rescuers, but by a strong series of efforts he succeeded in temporarily freeing himself. “Phat do ye mine, ye assassins?’ he cried. ‘“ Wud ye assassinate me? O/T wid yezdarty hands, or it is to Heaven will ye go wid a bulletin yezskull. ‘Tis I who carries a pop.”’ ‘Wretched man,’’ ejaculated Dr. Bubbler, pushing his way through the crowd, ‘‘we only want to save you. Why did you do it?” : “Do phat? ‘* Swallow poison.” Me Who swallowed poison 7”? . “Ye loie. It is crazy must ye be, ye ould Santa Claus.?? : In spite of the solemnity of the occasion, the alder- manic aliusion to the doctor as old Santa Claus pro- ends, an’ kape it till I return.’ stock-still, @ portrait of astonishment. ‘* Mine gracious!” finally he exclaimed, ‘‘ but dot vos | voked a laugh from two or three quarters, funny. I don’t remember yot id vos how dot sdory He grew red in the face, but still felt that it was his Vait avhile; maype I regollects id.” pd 0 save his insulter’s life, ‘ The alderman did not. wait. e made a request to a couple of men in the front He tore himself away from the detaining finger upon | rank of the crowd. 4 his button-hole. ; “Seize him !’’ he ordered; “ put him down upon the “Ye must excuse me,” he said, ‘but I am forced | floor.” to at least catch the midnoight ixpress. Salt the story | The request was obeyed. . ! : ; The two men—big, brawny fellows—jumped upon With that he was away, leaving Mr. Levi standing | the alderman in front, whily the diplomatic doctor caught hold of his legs, Their efforts were crowned with “Und he vos leave me so,” finally he exclaimed. | success; for, despite a sturdy resistance, Mr. O'Dowd ‘All right; you pets halef a tollar to a pewter cent dot | was laid upon the flat of his back, several gentlemen I vos get skevare py him. Vait till he prings ub a new | proceeding to sit Gown upon him, to make sure that is ‘pill py hand garment thrade be dil adi the Chinayse.” af ; “i my card’, der Board apout blanting shamrocks py der City Hall or somedings of dot sort. I vill vote dwice. against itfor monish.? , 4 : Meanwhile the alderman was most of the way to Jersey City. : _ Needless Gane Baron Rothschild could not haye borrowed halfa dol- lar, or even a quarter, of him just th: : “ Bad cess to the hook-nose: shall kape pawn-brokers’ sho gh ee tage second- He paced upand down the waiting-room so furiously that public attention was universally directed to him. One gentleman, a florid-faced, fussy old fellow with a eee tendency to corpulency, watched him nar- rowly. Pia pe ynit He called the attention of a porter, who, as all rail- way porters generally do, was doing nothing, to him. “See that fellow *” he asked. ae “ Which one?” queried the porter. ™One Walking so furiously ¥”? Yesit! “ Know why he is walking so furiously?” ‘Why 7 een ; “ Tle’s In trouble.” _ . y ! ‘What about?”? i ! A _ “Mental trouble. ‘Know who I am?” ; “No, sir,’? at - “Dm a physician. Dr. Beeswax Bubbler. -Tlere’s (The is ee passed a professional card over to to the surprised porter.) I’ve made a study of intellectual disorders. Now, .mark my.words, he means to commit a crime.”’ . The porter started, “What kind of crime, sir?’’ he asked. ; The answer came back with ghastly significance: “Suicide—watch him!’? Totally unconscious that he was the subject of the above colloquy, the alderman proceeded to pace up and down, muttering curses all of the while upon Mr. Leyi’s head. “If it had not been for that sucker and his phantom tale relative to the sammer-bottom pants, it is in Phul- adelphia wud I’d be now.” As he finished speaking he looked up at the big pack mnie adorns or disfigures, just as you please, the depot. It marked nearly seven o’clock. The alderman suddenly recollected that at six he had to take a powder for indigestion, the result of too much good living. fj ; He walked over to the drinking fountain and picked up a cup. ‘ The powder had to be dissolved in water, so he filled the cup half full, and taking out the little paper which held the powder, shook its contents into the cup. Dr. Bubbler’s face grew White as marble. “Hal didn’t I tell you?” he exclaimed to the por- ter; ‘‘he has swallowed poison!” The doctor made the remark so loud that it was heard by several by-standers, : “ Poison ?? cried they. “Yes,”? said the doctor; ‘‘ he must be saved. rescue. See, he is foaming at the month.” Really the alderman was not foaming. The taste of the powder was bitter, and he was sim- ply spitting out a portion of it. : _ The people, who, obeying the impulsive doctor’s in- junction, went to the rescue of the supposed suicide, did not stop to think of that. ¢ In a second he was grabbed by a score of hands, while advice poured in upon him from all sides. * To his to the talons ay’ | and scribbled a few lines upon it, / he would not escape. _ The alderman raved. He swore that if he was not would make that depot look like a Rode ter a ela; down. 4“ Paris green!” he utte doctor’s ofice?? 9 _ “Pwo blocks away, sir,” replied a small boy, eagerly. i: eWhat is his name? =. : “Dr, Jones, sir.’? f BU Ss ¢ Dr. Bubbler pulled o , 2. decond profedsional eard “Will you run to Dr. Jones he asked of the small boy. ' es * Would he? The small boy, after the manner of small boys, pou have run to the end of the world if re- quired, “There, take this card, and bring back what-it calls for?’ said the doctor. ‘ Hurry.” There was no need to give the last injunction, for the small boy was off with the speed of the wind. “What are you after, Billy ?? questioned one of his friends in the crowd. , “ Stomick-pump—lemme by,” was answered all in one breath, as the small boy darted pas‘ his inquirer and out of the depot door. ‘ His answer quickly spread around. It created additional excitement, and soon the crowd which surrounded the prostrate alderman could be counted by the hundreds, While awaiting the advent of the stomach-pump, various theories were enunciated regarding the cause of the attempt at self-destruction, “Tt no bea loy-a,”? said a well-dressed Italian, “‘no-a woman could-a loy-a him. He 1ook-a lik-a monkey.” The idea of a pecuniary cause was also sconted, be- cause the blazing diamonds in the alderman’s shirt- front visibly refuted that. Drunkenness was also barred ont, for at no period had the supposed snicide acted inebriately. There was but one theory more, He must be insane. **No doubt about it,” said Dr. Bubbler, when ap- pealed to by an anxious inquirer, ‘‘ he’s mentally dis- ordered; I noted it in every act of his. See his eyes— they are white, and havea dazed expression.” The alderman heard the response. “Me eyes are whoite, are they?’ he called out; “ be. dad, ye big-bellied ould coffee-pot, before I finish wid ye, yez eyes will be black, and it will take a bushel ay oysters to remove the swelling,’ The doctor only smiled serenely. “ You will be all right presently,” spake he; ‘‘ do you know your name?” The question made the alderman so mad, that stil elo gentleman was obliged to sit down upon nim. as quickly as you can?”
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. Si “Do I know me name?” he sarcastically returned. “Oh, no, av coorse I don’t. I haven’t any name. [ lost itin a fog. Ye bald-headed ould balloon, ye will pay dear fur yezacts. Be heavens, I belong to a say- eret society which mates in a dynamite mine, and if ye kill me blood will run like wather. If necessary, all ay the Western worruld wud be blown up to avenge me death.” Hardly had he finished before the small boy came breathlessly back with the stomach-pump. “Thanks,” said the doctor, rolling up his sleeves, then taking the stomach-pump—‘ Now to work.’’ Although O'Dowd kicked likea mule, the pump was got to work upon his interior. i Soon everything he had eaten for six long years came to public view. Finally, when the doctor found out that he had ex- fs ea the contents of his victim’s stomach, he de- sisted. ‘There,’ he remarked as he put the stomach-pump down, “ you ought to be thankful to me.” Was 0’ Dowd thankful? : Oh, yes, cert. If he had been able to, it is decidedly probable that he would have arisen and expressed his gratitude to the doctor by carving out his heart. But the sfomach-pump exercises a very demo: .un.d a epee upon a man. e don’t generally care about going toa p ~‘«, and a circus possesses: no attractions whatever alter he has been played with by the genial instrument. a Therefore he laid still for several minutes, breathing ard. Suddenly as he lay there a voice exclaimed, in cents of complete surprise: - ‘* Mein gracious!"’ ? The voice was that of Mr. Levi. And Mr. Levi came pushing elbowing them right and left, He stooped down by the alderman’s side. “Vot vos id, O'Dowd?” he asked. whisky. Here, dake dis.’ As he spoke he Pulled out a flask from his pistol pocket and put its nozzle to the alderman’s mouth. hie Bubbler, with an exclamation of alarm, grabbed sarm. - f oe “Do you wantto kill him? He's just been rescued from death.” = a fit?” “Vot death—vos he haf “No, he took poison.” Mr. Levi’s face expressed the greatest incredulity. “Mine frendt,” he said, “I vosn’t a canary, und I doesn’t swallow pird-seed. Dot man yould no more ar Uo am den he vould refuse a pribe. Catch oud, "Dowd." , ; : The liquor which passed from Levi's flask down the alderman’s throat had a decidedly restorative influ- ence. : 4 The alderman satup. — ; “Levi,” were his first words, “have you a re- volver?” ; “No,”? was Levi's answer. No i aven a@ razor?” ‘i ed for Heaven’s sake, assist me to pull offme oot, wevotfor?”? , “To kill that sucker wid the stomach-pump.” Mr. Levi did not assist. “Keep quiet,’? said he, ‘until I vos find oud vot the reason py der difficulty vos.” The doctor hurried to exp) ac- through ‘the crowd, $f Shersey lain. “This gentleman,’ he said, pointing to the alder- man, ‘came in bere very muchagitated. His actions were very suspicious. He strode hastily to and tro like @ maniac, or a man bent upon some desperate deed. He reminded me of a party, who I once ina saloon, and who five minutes afterwards cut his throat with a razor and fell a corpse. He——” At this point the alderman interrupted. “The rayson avy me suspicious actions,” he said, ‘were owing to chagrin,.’’ “ At vot?” interrogated Mr. Levi. ‘ ie 7 ye not recollect stopping me in the strate?” “Yes,” “Ye endeavored to relate to me a funny sthory 2”? ““Apout der summer-pottom pants. Und id vos a funny sdory. I have shoost recollected yot der schoke vos. Dot veller vent into a glothing-sdore und he asked for a bair aufsummer-pottom pants. He vos mean sbring-bottoms, und——”’ The alderman got upon his feet. “Mr. Levi,” he uttered, ‘‘ye are an aldermanic col- league ay moine ?” : “Yes,” surprisedly replied Mr. Levi. re bike sat soide by soide in the coort-house?”’ Yes.’ “Previous to now no altercations have occurred be- twane us?’ *'No?? *« Ve are more prodigious thin mesilf?” “Yes. ‘Yer muscle is more developed ?” “T pets dot.” “In a foight ye will probably be able to swape the cobwebs off av the ceiling wid me?” ** Probably.” 7 “Tn spoite avall that if ye attimpt to relate that divil’s own story to me, are ye aware av me future coorse av procedure ?’ Mr. Levi confessed that he was not. “ Vot vill yer do?” queried he. “Droive yez roight optic out through the back av yeu head, if ye kill me for the act. ’Twas that tale ay yez which placed me in me contemporary fix.” held. “How vos dot?” “Ye stopped measI wur making rapid toime for me thrain.’’ “I did vot?” “Luk at the ensuement,”’ “Vot vos id ?”? *T lost me thrain, and wur pumped out bekase I tuk an indigestion powdher. Faix, I will niver have any occasion to take such a powdher_again. Indigestion, I belave, is a disorder av the stomach??? Dr, Bubbler assented. “Thin, as I stated before,” triumphantly returned the alderman, “I will niver be occasioned to take a sicond powdher, fur me stomach came up wid it.” Dr. Bubbler felt, all of a sudden, that it was very possible that he might have made a mistake. ‘““My dear sir,’’ he said, agitatedly, “if I have blun- dered, I beg a thousand pardons, -I thought what you gulped down was Paris green. [ can affirm I saw par- ticles of it upon your teeth.’ . “ Begob, thin ye must be color bloind,” said the al- derman, ‘‘fur the powdher is blue. I will back me worrud to that effect fur a hundred dollars, and will produce the rist av thim,’? ie was about to do so when Mr. Levi jerked his ‘sleeve. ; ‘Gomme somevheres else,’’? he whispered; “der crowd vos gedding bigger allewile. Der first thing you vos get your name by der newsbabers. Dere’vos a real nice kwiet saloon, kept py a relative auf mine, near by, |—drei drinks fur a Keyarter; he id vos dot I got here ‘to see. Come mit me now, und ofer our drinks we will Clear up der pizness, I vill dreat mineselef.”? He was as good as his word. In his relative’s saloon, seated around a table, with three glasses partially filled with amber-colored fluids, the alderman, Mr. Levi, and Dr, Bubbler amicably ar- ranged affairs. ‘ ; Indeed, affairs were too amicably arranged for the ‘alderman, that evening, f One drink led to another, until at last, near mid- night, Mr. Levi’s relative was obliged, reluctantly, to i the trio to bed, for he kept a quasi hotel over his saloon. al , And he was sorry for it. Philadelphia failed to be honored by his presence lyzed so soon. Auf dey vhile I vould haf make dree tollars more. But some ‘folks never dinks dot a man vos got to make a living. | But nefer mind; I will get skevare. I will send a poy up mit ice-water by der morning und charge dem der brice auf wine for id.” Pee ta _ Mr. Levi's relative was as good as his word, for the bill which he sent in thenext morning made the al- derman’s eyes distend. Ce * He paid it, however, while Mr. Levi and his rela- tive shook hands after he went, : : ““Dwendy-five ber cent. commission,” winked Mr. Levi, while his relative nodded in assent. 5 The alderman, after a couple of pbs sodas to take the bees out of his ears, took the i n for Philadelphia, Upon his arrival there his first act was to go toa hotel, the second to ascertain the whereabouts of Bar- num’s circus, — He soon discovered its locality, and discovered also that he was in cime for the afternoon performance. There was the usua' jam and crush about the entrance to the big tent as the alderman started to enter, The man who owned the ‘‘Fat Woman ” was bawling in opposition to the fellow who proprietor- ized the ‘* Living Skeleton,” while the gentleman who possessed, the Educated Hog, which could tell fortunes with its feet, howled in rivalry to them both. Besides, the band was playing at a deafening rate, the steam calliope was hissing out “Hold the Fort;’ in fact it was Barnum’s circus. Just as the alderman was pressing his way through the crowd, he was accosted by a ragged street Arab, j uy Hey, mister,” he said, ‘‘ won't yer give me a quar- er? “What for?’ e “Mudder’s dead, an’ fader’s out of work, an’ we ain’t had no food for a week.’? The alderman grinned. “Ye are a pigmy liar,” he said, ‘and I will lave it to yersilf. Ye want that quarter to go to the circus wid—confess.”’ The boy said “yes,” thrown completely off of his ‘d. ar : “Now what do ye want to see most in the circus?” asked O’Dowd, “Der monks.’” “The phat?’ “ Monks—monkeys.’’ The alderman grew interested right.away, and the Arab continued: “Der two big ones take der cruller. as me, an’ look like real——”’ “ Real what??? “Boys. One looks like a nigger—got a black face.” The alderman felt his heart bound. Yes, the two real-looking monkeys must be Mulli- gan’s Boy and Pete. He flung half a dollar to the street Arab, and rushed into the tent. “Where are the monkeys?!’ anxiously asked he of the candy-butcher who was selling fresh caramels made about the era of Confucius. “Foller yer nose,’ was the courteous reply; “turn to yer left past the ring-tailed kangaroo and the horn- ed dodo, and yer will strike yer relatives.” O'Dowd hurried on. But he got lost in the throng. It appeared as ifhe beheld every other animal in the world except a monkey. “Be Heavens, I don’t belave there is a monkey in Dey are as big “Vot fools dey Vos.” he éjaculated, “to get bara- vos put it off for an hour a the whole place!”’ he exclaimed, ‘‘’tis but a fiction av that little son ay a dirt-pile.’’ Hardly had he spoken before he fetched up most sud- em unexpectedly in front of the objects of his search, There was the monkey cage, full of all the elite of the monkey world. Prominent amidst them were two big monkeys who appeared to be the stars of the occasion. One had a reguiar Hibernian face, while the other was of an African type. The alderman looked at them for a second, then he startled the crowd by rushing forward, with the wild exclamation: “‘Mike—Pate, do not yez recognize me? Come out of that cage roight away!’’ PART XVIL THE alderman’s ejaculation naturally attracted the attention of the spectators. He minded it not. He pressed to the cage and who he thought was his hope’ cane, “Come out av that den ay beastality,”” he uttered. * Are ye not ashamed av yersilf to lave a comfortabie home for to take up wid brutes 2?” ‘ The monkey grinned amiably, Lae pis “Chee! chee! he uttered, making a’ dive for the alderman’s shiny dicer. 4 % “Chee ! chee! will ye?” said O’Dowd; “what ye mane I do not know. Iam not versed in Philadelphia slang. Come out and put on yez clothes !’" The spectators, from being interested in the mon- keys, grew interested in the alderman. He became ‘the star part of the menagerie. __ % Whispers at first, open utterances afterwards, ex- ee their varied opinions relative to his con- uct. . : “He's a crank !”” tn “He's drunk.” ‘ “Pull as a goat.?? “ Paralyzed.?* “ Beastly intoxicated.” : i “Don't know what heis doing.” ‘ So they talked, and the alderman oyerheard some of their criticisms. . IF sty ‘pride was wounded; it would not do fora man of his society standing and social dignity to be placed | before the public in sucha false light. jem ea He turned and faced the crowd. — 3 : “ Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “‘ perhaps ye may wondher at me conduct? ‘ . ; ““Yes,’? from all over the menagerie assured him that they dia. si : a . “Ido not blame ye for so doing,” continued hey ttit Iwur inyez place [ would wondher meself. The raysonu av me actions is bekase those two big crathures Who ye behould in the cage are not_ monkeys. mi There was universal surprise expressed at this statement. aa Ae Teens “ Not monkeys?’ said one lady, anice old suburban lady with glasses and a reticule, “If they ain’t mon- keys, bless my soul, what are they ?? Pa ae ares “Byes,” answered the alderman, ‘ta Dublinite and anaygur. Luk at their faces; are they not human ?*' Really, the faces of the monkeys he referred to were, toa certain extent, human as the physiognomies of all their species are. But when he spoke it occurred to the spectators that the two monkeys were unusually human looking. “What grounds have you for your assertion ?? anx- iously asked a wiry, ferret-faced man with a very in- quisitive nose, The alderman related his story. To prove what he said was so, he exhibited the letter which he had received from Mike, and read it aloud. “Luk at it,” he said, after he had concluded; “there itis, and it proves that I have tuk the wrapper olf before I have shown ye the candy. Me nameis Patrick O’Dowd, alderman av New York, and if the address is not; proot enough relative to me identity, ye will foind me epitaph inscribed in me hat.” The spectators began to side with the alderman. “You unnatural, boy,” said the nice old lady, shaking her reticule at the Hibetnian monkey, “ why don’t you come out and go with your uncle?” The monkey smiled sweetly, and appeared to be con- sulting with his black-faced mate. “Do ye see? yelled O'Dowd, “they are referring wid aich other,” a Even while he spoke, the two retreated to the far- thest end of the cage, and buried their heads together as if in deep consultation. The man with the inquisitive nose tapped the alder- man upon the shoulder. “You have at least one resource,” said he. “To break open the cage?’ asked the alderman, eagerly, “Oh, no; use no violence.” “‘Bedad, I wud not; 1 wud use me hoot.” “Listen; [am a lawyer.” “Ye are?” ‘ ‘“Yes. Now I will tell you what todo. Ask for the manager.” “ Yi il Wines the monkey, 1 nephew, with his ‘Pell bim just what you have related to us. 7 will.?? “Demand the custody of your nephew.” ‘Be Heaven, I will take him back to New York dead- or alive! But suppose the manager refuses ?!’ The lawyer gave orDowd a professional wink. ” he uttered. “T will attend to that,’ | “JT will get an nee from court compelling him to surrender your nephew.’ The idea pleased the alderman, , He shook hands with the lawyer.
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“ ‘who was stealthily sidlin 382 MULLIGAN’S BOY. “Ye have been a friend to me,” he said, ‘‘and I niver forget a friend. Any teime ye come to New York and wanta man jugged see me first. Iwill, if ye wish it, make him a life-long liver upon the Island, quarrying shoes.’? Then he started off, followed by most of the monkey- viewers, to find the manager. That gentleman, for a wonder, was actually found. The alderman told his story. The manager surveyed him compassionately. “My dear sir,” he said, ‘‘ you better go out in the fir. It willdo you good. The idea of those monkeys peing boys is a perfectly insane one. They have been with us for four years,”’ The alderman produced his letter. ‘ Read that,’? he uttered, ‘Is that an insane idea?” Nii “Which would have spoiled all,” the lawyer said. ‘* Leave it to the law.” Then he confronted the manager again. “Have youanything else to call me?’ interrogated he. ‘ Ain’tI a scoundrel ?” The manager was wrathy, and he emphatically answered ‘ Yes.?? This response appeared to afford Mr. Hynes great delight; he carefully placed it upon record in his memorandum-book. ‘* Probably I’m a thief?’ suggested he, “Yes,” roared the manager. “A liar??* Yeas? ‘A shyster?”? “Yes.” | | = What else he would nave said will remain a secret, cero at that moment the canvas-men caught hold of him. It had taken the alderman about fifteen minutes to get to the manager. It took him just about fifteen seconds to get out into the street, for the canvas-men were experts at bounc- ing, and upon this occasion they put in some fancy touches. ? The first Mr. O'Dowd knew, he was reposing upon a pile of dirt, flat upon his back, with a dim idea that he had been struck by Keely’s motor, Looking about after he had, to a certain extent, re- gained his scattered faculties, he perceiyedgMr. Hynes, sitting up about ten feet away. Mr. Hynes was not a cheerful sight. . Indeed his ap. “Bad cess. to the hook-nosed politician!” he ejaculated, “Thrue.as me name is 0’ Dowd Iwill ruin his race. ’Tis mesilf who wili have an act passed by especial legislation declaring that nobody but Italians shall kape.pawn-brokers’ shops, and that second-hand garment trade be dilegated :o the The manager read it, and laughed as he finished it. “That precious nephew of yours,” he said, ‘has been hoaxing you. He has given you a decidedly taffied tale.” But the alderman would not have if. Not for a cent. He insisted that the monkeys were Mulligan’s Boy and Pete, and he would not desist, He was all the more firm in his assertion, as the lawyer backed him up. The two kicked up a row, and attracted so much attention that the manager grew disgusted. { “T know you,” he said to the lawyer. ‘“‘ Your name is Hynes, and you are a snide lawyer.’? Mr. Hynes’ face grew scarlet, “I'm what ?? gasped he, ** A snide lawyer !”” Mr. Hynes pulled out a memorandum-book and wrote the sentence down. He also called upon sey- eral people near by to bear witness to the objectionable adjective applied to him. “You will be sorry !” piped he to the manager. “TI have cause for actlon—criminal libel. I’m a snide lawyer, ami? Very well; we will see! Hold on, my friend |” The last adjuration was addressed to the alderman, up towards the manager with clenched fist, The alderman slunk back in some confusion, . “‘What would you do?” queried the lawyer, in whis- pered tones. oe ion alderman’s reply was significant of his charac- Te “JT wud have dhrove me fist clane through his head,” Whispered he, qht talons av the Chinayse.” Pa tly any character?’ “No? “ Or social standing ?? “No.?? ‘Am not considered good anyway ?”” ‘*T would not consider you so.” Mr. Hynes’ face was a picture of joy. “Libel, criminal libel,’ he repeated; “you wit pay dearly for those words, my friend, Couldn’t you, as a favor, possibly lick me? Just add assault and battery to your verbal lies.’ As Mr. Hynes spoke he placed himselfinto a splendid position to be kicked, bending himself half double, and the manager, 2 man of hasty temperament, was not slow to avail himself of such a tempting opportunity. He did kick Mr, Hynes. : ‘ Not once or twice, but several times, and when he at last got tired of the, at least to him, satisfactory per- formance, he whistled with a small silver whistle at was suspended by a string from his button- ole. Three sturdy canvas-men responded. “What is it, sir?” asked one. Their superior promptly let them know. “Take these two fools or cranks, or whatever they are,” he ordered, in a ‘voice partially choked with rage, ‘and beunce them out.” ‘ The alderman bustled up like the little bantam that ie was. ‘Bounce me, will ye, ye popinjay?”’ he exclaimed; ‘are ye not aware that ivery toime ye lay the weight ay yez little finger upon me, ye insult the Corporation av New York. Be gob, if ye get ine madI will, by judicious use av me influence wid the United States Senate, have Philadelphia obliterated from the map av New Jersey. I will——” pearance at that time would have probably thrown & shade of sadness over the most festive gathering. His eyes were ornamented uF huge rings ‘of black and blue; his nose was swelled abnormally, and the blood trickled from a cut on his lip. One of his ears, too, seemed to be suspended from his head by but a thread of skin. Yet Mr. Hynes did not appear to be unhappy; rather, joyous. : “ Bedad,” groaned the alderman, as he regained his feet, ‘I wud I wur a Nihilist !”’ “Why 2? stuttered Mr. Hynes, whose speech was im. peded by reason ofhis having, during the melee which attended the bouncing, lost one of his front teeth. “ Bekase I could procure a bomb.’”? “Of wh-what?” “Dynamite.” “ W-what w-would you d-d-do with it?” “Blow the domned baste-show to giblets. Ifiver I catch that manager outside there will be room for wan less at the Morgue, Mr. Hynes came over and patted him upon the back, “Tam glad it occurred,” he said. “Oh, so am I,” sarcastically responded the alder. man. ‘ Faix, I wnd not have had it turn out conthra- ry fur the wurruld. Me coat is torn, and the siven. dollar, all cashmere pants, which I-had made ready. made at Hop Ski’s, the great American tailor’s, are valuable acquisition to a rag-bag. NO wondher ye yersilf are glad. ‘Tis a fortune lies in yez grasp as a Soign for the efficacy av a patent millitreuse.” When the alderman finished Mr, Hynes had secured a cab, and he hustled the indignantlittle fellow intoit. “My dear sir,”’ said he, as the vehicle rolled away, “J do not Know whether or not the monkeys are the partie, of whom you are in search, but I know one thing.’
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. 33 ‘What ?? queried O'Dowd. “ We are both about twenty-five hundred dollars in te-day.”” i “How?” * Listen, and will explain. I will sue the show for about ten thousand for illegal ejectment. We both paid for our tickets. Also for assault and battery. They will compromise for at least the amount I previously stated. On my own hook I will sue them for criminal libel. You heard what the manager called me?” “ Yes.”? “Well, I have it all down in my memorandum- book. I will give you ten per cent. of what I recover. Is it agreed ?”? it was. \ WY AA YY \ NN seat. Then and there did the two shake hands over the agreement, and the alderman was driven to a hotel, promising to see the lawyer at his office the next morning, sure. A few simple remedies soon fixed the doughty alder- man all right, and after supper he went down to that apartment which a politician, especially a metropoli- tan politician, generally seeks—the bar-room. He ordered a modest after-supper relish of mineral water, and was just placing it to his lips when he re- ceived a slap upon the shoulder which made the fuid start out of the glass, “Down meon the quarter-stretch, and break me up just under the wire, if it ain’t the alderman !”’ said a voice, ringing and hearty. O'Dowd turned, There behind him was a stout, sturdy fellow, tower- ing above him as alamp-post towers over @ hydrant. “Hello, alderman !? he continued, “what brings you to Philadelphia? Thought you were in New York, sure as Mand S. rules the time record.” The alderman recognized his accoster right away. It was a celebrated horseman and driver, Dan Brace by name, who, besides his dealings in horse- flesh, dealt not a little in politics, and was a power aa his ward. “Hello, Dan!” said he. ‘“Faix I will ax ye back yez own interrogatory. What are ye doing here?” Dan laughed—a regular horse-laugh, as befitted his profession. 2 “There’s a trot to-morrow, and I am into it,” he stated. ‘‘Ilam just bound for the stablesnow. By the way, got an hour tospare to-morrow—say be- tween eight and nine?” “Why?” Twill give you a treat.” ‘What sort av a thrate?” “You know my gray mare?”’ “Sadie B.?” > “Yes.’? The alderman knew the animal spoken of well. She was @ very speedy piece of horse-flesh, formerly the property of a well-known railway king, and had been bought at a figure exceeding three ciphers by Brace. “Tl let you drive her out for exercise,’”’ said Brace. “You're a good driver, for I’ve heard Assemblyman Necker say so.’’ It rose to the alderman’s tongue to say that Assem- blyman Necker was a liar, for the alderman did not consider himself a good driver at all. Really he had not, to the best of his recollection, driven more than three horses in his life, and they were sedate, old The alderman tried to pull up his horse. As he did so, his gaze fell upon Mulligan’s Boy and Pete, who were proudly sharing the driver's “ Howly smoke!” he exclaimed, “if it isn’t the castaways!” plugs, who would not have taken fright at an earth- uake, or could have been tied, without frightening in the least, to. a steam fire-engine in full action. He restrained the impulse, however. He had an idea that it would lower him in Brace’s opinion if he confessed his lack of experience at hand- ling the reins. So he said, carelessly: 3 “ All roight, Pll take her out. Will ye indulge?’ Brace declined. 2 “Don’t feel the need of it,’ answered he, “ besides I’m ina hurry. Here’s the address of the stable.” The alderman took the proffered card, and, with a genial good-bye, Brace left. That night the alderman’s dreams were all horse, He was being plunged over precipices by horses, thrown head over heels into surging streams by them, and finally he awoke with a start just as a fiery, de- moniac steed, snorting fire and flame, upon whose back was perched Mulligan’s Boy and Pete, was about to ride over him, and crush him to the earth with its iron-shod hoofs. It was eight o'clock when he arose, and he did not have much tlme to reach the stable if he would take Sadie B. out. He heartily wished he had not agreed to do so. “I wish, begob,” he said, as he put on his hat, “that T had tould Brace that I had to sit upon @ coroner’s jury, or had been delegated by the Board ay New York Aldermen to visit the Dead Honse and investigate the corpse system of Philadelphia. Why did I not think last noight to hoire some skilled criminal to poison the baste ?”” Taking a hasty breakfast, he went to the stable. There was Brace, ruddy and fresh, and as loud- voiced as ever. There, too, was the gray mare hitched up to a feather-weight of a sulky, her head held by an atom of a stable-boy, while several other stabie-boys, all dirty- faced and dirty-handed, and chewing straws, stood admiringly around, *“ All ready, alderman,” said Brace; ‘‘ get in.’’ Probably the alderman could have got into a diver’s suit about as easily as he could that sulky. He shud- dered as he thought what was before him. But it would never do to exhibit the white feather, He boldly advanced and placed one of his big feet— for his most fervent admirer could not accuse him of wearing fairy slippers—upon a shaft ofthe sulky. A yell was uttered by the atom of a stable-boy. “Yer wanter bust the sulky,” he cried; * ’tain't made out of iron.” Wy » The alderman withdrew his foot, while Brace came to the rescue, He showed the alderman the proper way of getting in, and the alderman did get in finally, with the easy grace of an elephant. Ee: you never was in a sulky before?’’ laughed ce. “Ye are mistaken,” returned the alderman, with crushing dignity; ‘I wur born in one. Ever since me earliest infancy sulkies have been a mania wid me. Ihave four barns full now. But I build them different. They aich have two seats, wid a balcony behoind for me Siamese footman.” Crushed by O’Dowd’s eloquence, Mr. Brace handed him the lines. “ Tight rein,” he said; ‘let go her head, Pete.” The atom of a stable-boy obeyed. As soon as the mare felt herself free she darted for- ward like a shot. Away she went, knocking over the stable-boy, nearly upsetting the sulky as: she passad out of the open door, and just by a trifle escaping from running into a passing coal-cart. She landed upon the opposite sidewalk, and ap- peared to be about climbing up the stoop of a brick house when the alderman steered her, how he could not have told, over a hydrant and back into the street, down which she sped like electricity. Brace, who was watching the circus, turned pale for a second. “That horse is as good as dead,’ he exclaimed; “he knows nothing about driving.” “No more’n a crab,” corroborated the atom of a stable-boy, who had got up and was ruefully rubbing his shoulder; “‘all uv der wagon dat yer will ever see, boss, will be der splinters,”?
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34 MULLIGAN’S BOY. Mr. Brace looked sad for a while, but presently a blessed thought came to comfort him, : *He’s good for it,” he muttered. ‘‘I’d sue the man for five thousand, anyway, and if he kills her I’ll soak him five hundred extra. Blessed if I had any idea that he was such a fake about horses,’? and he philo- sophically lit a cigar and sauntered into the stable. Now let us digress, and it isjust about time for the digression to Mulligan’s Boy and Pete. They were at the museum yet as the Fat Foster Brothers, and they had made a decided hit, so much so thattheir salary had been increased by the pro- prietor from the original sum they received to ten dollars a week, The same day that the alderman arrived in Philadel- phia and went upon his disastrous excursion to Barnum’s circus, a great idea occurred to Mulligan’s Boy. “Shanghai, old man,’ said he familiarly to the Russian giant, who was guaranteed to stand eight feet in his socks, ‘I’ve got a great idea, Bedad, it will girdle the tree, “What is it?” asked the giant, who, most remarkable _ for a Russian, spoke in a Yankee down-east twang. “* Pienic,’? “What sort of a picnic?” * All of us.” “* All of who??? ‘ “Us curiosities. We'll hoire a big wagon and a band and go off upon a racket. Start early in the morning, be jon allday. What say??? a Great. Vl agree if the boss will, Seehim,” Mulligan’s Boy did. ‘ The “ be called, caught on at once, for he realized that it would bea splendid advertisement for him. He gave his hearty consent to the scheme, and went so far as to offer to pay for the wagon and music him- _ self, which offer, unnecessary to say, was not refused: “Go to-morrow,” he said. Thé curiosities entered into the picnic readily. All except the boneless man, who was laid up with a broken arm, but who sent his regrets. 3 - §$oit came about that,on the morrow a merry party Started off for aday’s picnic. _ t geen a diversified lot of picnickers, it is safe to say, never seen before. 1eve was the Russian giant and his wife, a lady é ually as tall as himself, the Living Skeleton, the ‘ircassian girl, the three midgets, the man who wrote with his toes, the India-rubber marvel, the pig-faced wie guia the bearded lady. : With the band playing and flags waving, they rolled on, applauded by the throngs of spectators who lined the sidewalks. . Suddenly, asjtheyipassed around a,corner, they came face to face with the alderman behind “Sadie B.” ‘The alderman tried to pull up his horse. } he did so, his gaze fell upon Muligan’s re | and Pete, who were proudly sharing the driver's seat. “hi one smoke!’’ he exclaimed, *‘ if it isn’t the cast- ways)? - . ~ PART XVII. Nopopy can blame the alderman’s steed for being htened. i 3 brass band and a wagon filled with living curtos‘ ties of all sorts is surely sufficient to shake the ment, bi of any horse, even an old plug. he alderman’s horse was not an old plug. “Sadie B.” had a pedigree as extensive as a pea- cock’s tail, and could boast of having some of the finest of equine blue blood in her veins. She danced frantically upon her hind feet as soon as she perceived the museum picnic, and then started off upon a dead run, The driver of the museum wagon hastily got out of the way, reining his horses to one side. “‘nere’s a runaway, sure as fate,’’? exclaimed he. Mulligan’s Boy and Pete looked at the man upon the sulky, and both simultaneously uttered: “It?s the old man!”? Hardly were the words out of their mouths before Sadie B, shot by. She had got the bit tightly held between her teeth, mit Os of the alderman’s pulling at the reins was un- availing, “Jump out!’ cried Mulligan’s Boy. The alderman heard the injunction, and gazed up at the speaker. ** Bedad, I will not!” he cried. ‘If I am saved, it will be i who will jump out. What ye will jump out ay will be yez pants, and it will be mesilf, aided by a switch, that will occasion yez exit. In spite av yez disguise I am onto ye.” That was all he said. Away went the sulky, and he whirled by the gray mare, and soon all that was to be.seen of them was the cloud of dust which arose from their rear. The driver of the museum wagon, as he whipped up his horses, philosophically remarked: “Phere’li be a funeral in that fellow’s family in a day or so, and he will just about head the procesh. Do you know him ?? ‘“ Why ??? asked Mulligan’s Boy, ‘*He spoke to you?” Mulligan’s Boy and Pete exchanged glances. Should they give their secret away? Mulligan’s Boy resolved not. 1 “Did he speak to us?’ he queried, with an assump- _ tion of great innocence. ‘‘ We don’t know the gilly?”’ “Well, I thought he did,’ replied the driver, “‘ but mebbe he didn’t. He spoke to somebody.’? “Guess it was the fat woman,” grinned Mike. ‘“Maybe he’s gota mash.” — - The driver laughed, and then the conversation ended, but both Mike and Pete felt that they bad had @ narrow escape, ; boss,’? as the [proprietor of the museum was | They kept their thoughts to themselves, however, and it was not very long before the grove where they were abont to picnic was reached, Dinner was the first object of the day, and it was spread upon the grassy sward beneath the shelter of the spreading branches of a big oak, which, as the Bearded Woman,who was naturally of a poetic frame of mind, declared was too sweetly utter. Let it be recorded that all of the participants in the feast did ample justice to it, especially the Living Skeleton, whose gastronomic feats were perfectly marvelous. Neither were Mulligan’s Boy or Pete much left. The food they got away with would have served many a cheap hash-house for a week by judicious manage- ment. After dinner the party separated to a great extent. The Russian Giant and his wife placidly went to sleep in the shade, the Lightning Calculator, two of the Zulu Chiefs, and the Leopard Boy sat down to a frame of poker, while the rest sauntered off in different directions. Pete and Mike found themselves in the society of the Chinese Dwarf, who was really a nice little fellow, born in New Jersey. His assumed name was Che Lung, and so will we call him, and he was just as fall of mischief as a human atom could well be; always putting up jokes and jobs on his fellow curiosities. The three roamed about the grove for a while un- til suddenly Che Lung stopped. He placed his finger to his lips. ; “Shi? he uttered, His two companions paused, ‘* What is it?? asked Mulligan’s Boy. The dwarf pointed in a certain direction. Look!” he said. The boys followed his extended finger. There, upon a rustic seat, almost hid by the shrub- es which surrounded it, could be seen a couple, ’ There was an obyious disparity between them, One, the man, was almost as thin as a cigarette pa- pers the other, the woman, was fleshy, very fleshy. he would have made good ballast for a boat. They were evidently lovers, for the woman’s head rested upon the man’s shoulder as he was gently fan- ae her with his straw hat. Che Lung chuckled. “ See em?” asked he. “Yes,” answered Mulligan’s Boy. ’ “* Know ’em ?”? _“Faix, the backs of their heads, all I can behould, are notat all familiar.” # “They are to me.’? * Frinds ay yez?”’ ' “Yes, and of yours, too.” © 4 _Mulligan’s Boy was puzzled. . “Dll swear Lam not acquainted wid them,” said he. “Are ye, Pete?” ‘ Pete’s i gf was in the negative. ; Pete said he did not know them from the Angel Gabriel. ‘Bet dat dey’re engaged, dough, from dere posture,” finished he; “‘kase if dey wuz married dey’d be far apart as possible,’ Che Lung chuckled n. “They're the Living Skeleton and the Fat Woman,” he replied. ‘Don’t you know that they are dead gone | hi upon each other ?”? K “Ah, go’way! Whataré ye giving me?’ ejaculated Mulligan’s Boy. : each” responded the dwarf;-“‘ haven’t you noticed (4 / * What?” ; “Their mutual mash.”? “No.?? “Then you must be blind. Don’t he take particular care to get the chair next to her upon the platform at the Museum, when we're getting showed off?” “Thrue.”? “ Don’t he sell her pictures for her?” “Deed he does.” “Every day he goes to lunch with her.” ie Not every day. The Leopard Boy went yesther- y.” “Well, most every day. And who,” triumphantly finished the dwarf, “sees her home at night?” “He does,’ confessed Mike. “That proves it,’ Che Lung said; ‘he’s dead gone, and I'll bet he’s proposing to her now. Just a nice opportunity. But I’ll break it up. Just watch me. Know what I mean to do?? : “What?” “Oreep up and knock his hat over his eyes, Oreep up with me; we’ll hear what sort of taffy they’re giv- ing each other.” Like snakes the three glided in the rear of the couple upon the bench, who, oblivious of all the world, seemed to be totally engrossed with each other. Soon our heroes were within hearing distance. They could distinctly hear the voices of the bench oc- eupants. The woman was speaking. “ Ain’t I 00 Jittle duck ?”” said she. “F’conrse!? said her companion; “and I is oor own baby??? “ Bs, 00 is mine alone.” “And we'll never part?” “ Never.” “We'll get married in June.” ins? R Then followed the sound of kisses oft repeated. The dwarf made a grimace. “They make me sick,” said he, up the old skeleton!” * He rushed forward, and with a vigorous thrust of both hands jammed the male lover’s hat over his eyes. “Take that, old lead-pencil !? he exclaimed; ‘‘ we've caught youat it again.’? The man whom he addressed sprang from his seat, “See me shiver ee. his fair companion gave vent to a piercing shriek. “ Help !—murder !?? she bawled, As she did so the dwarf caught sight of her face. It was not that of the Fat Woman ! He started back. It flashed upon his mind that possibly he might have made a mistake. “[—_I——” he began to stammer. The woman, regaining her self-possession, rushed upon him with uplifted parasol. “You miserable little thing! What do you mean by assaulting a gentleman in that way?” she cried. Before Che Lung could reply the chap whose hat he had assaulted had got it off his eyes. When Che Lung sawshis face he felt worse than ever. It wasn’t the Living Skeleton—it was an entire stran- er | The dwarf saw that he had got himself into a box which it would be hard to get out of, for there was fire in the eyes of the young fellow whose head-piece he had so nicely demoralized. He turned to flee, the young fellow after him, His httle short legs were no match for the long, lithe ones of his pursuer. Hardly were a dozen rods passed over before his pur- Suner’s hands were upon his collar. “You blasted little rat! Whatdo you mean ?” asked me young fellow, shaking Che Lung like! a dog does a rat. “T—I thought it wasn’t you,’ faltered Che Lung. “Yer didn’t??? fal “No? < Ly “Who did yer think it was??? “ Billy.” ee: ““Who’s Billy?” *. “The Living Skeleton.’ Po This reply seemed to make the fellow all the madder. Like all thin people, he was very sensitive about his lack of flesh. } Ke” ae “So I look like a skeleton, do I?" herepeated. “ All right; we'll see what you look like in a second. Smash my dicer, will yer, and scare my Mary Ann most inter fits. I'll fix yer up for a while, you runt!” Tue the young fellow was thin he was muscular, and he lifted the dwarfup from the ground as if he had been a feather. | NPS ats “ Wotlll do wid him, Mary Ann 7 he called to his lady friend, — .- Sh The answer éame back, short and clear: “George, if you wish me to marry you » in June, | chuck him in the pond.’ The pond to which she referred was a dark, slimy. covered pool of water which lay but a few feet away. ne cay ah like a true gallant, hastened to obey the orders of his lady-love. ~ _ He hurried Che Lung towards the pond, Needless to say ithe dwarf resisted. He kicked and struck furiously at his captor, : That gentleman only mocked him. / “Go it, crab,’? he cried, “kick as much as you please. Yer bet yer life the bath will do yer good. eoaon yer not ter do any more funny business wid ‘olks, rey he spoke he lifted the dwarf almost above his ead. His victim uttered a yell of terror, for the pond looked anything but inviting, ‘Mike! Pete!’ bawled he. you see me killed?’ But no answer greeted his ears. All was silent. Mulligan’s Boy and Pete had a peculiar facility of keeping out of trouble, They never courted it, When they beheld it coming, they faded away. So it was in this case, Just as soon as they had perceived the probable ter- mination of the dwarfs joke, they had left, retired behind a bunch of bushes, where they could see all that was going on without being seen themselves, So it was that they failed to respond, verbally or physically, to Che Lung’s aid. Poor little bit. i George with all his might fung him into the pond, while Mary Ann applauded. Luckily the pond was not deep—probably sixteen or seventeen inches in depth at the most, Che Lung did noteven disappear beneath the water, but stuck in the mud, his head and shoulders—fortu- nately he landed feet first—sticking out above the sur- “Where are you—would ce. Mary Ann shook her parasol fiercely at him, “Sarves you right for assaulting and a battering of my young man,” she said. ‘‘{t’s lucky for you he left his revolver home; ain’t it, Georgy?” Her cayalier, as in duty bound, assented. “Tf [had carried a pop I’d a filled you so full of holes that anybody could see to read a newspaper through yer,” he valiantly said. ‘‘ Are yer ready, Mary Ann?’ “ Yes.”? “Den come long.” Arm in arm they strolled off, Mary Ann turning occasionally to stick out her tongue at Che Lung, which Las peered of feminine spite appeared to gratify her ex- ceedingly, When they were out of sight the dwarf slowly plunged his way out of the pond, muttering curses upon everybody. The first beings he saw when he reached terra firma were Mulligan’s Boy and Pete, who had emerged from their covert. ; They pretended to be terribly surprised. “What in the worruld ails ye?’ Mikeasked, ‘ Faix, what possessed ye to go swimming wid yez clothes on? Che Lung bent upon them a glance of the utmost disdain. “ Cowards,” he said, as he tried to scrape some of
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. 35 the mud off of his pants and shoes with a stick, “Ill get square on you.’”? “What for??? ““¥ou deserted me.’” “When?” “T suppose you did not stop to sée how my joke turned out?” ““Nayther we did. Jist afther ye lift us there wur a arttlesnake gloided by, and Pete and me pursued it. What did the skeleton say, and how in the name av the dead did ye get into the wather ?”’ “Tf you don’t know you will never find out from me,” curtly answered Che Lung, who suspected the true state of affairs, “Bedad, I do not desoire to imvade into yez affairs,”’ returned Mike; ‘‘it is only one suggestion I wud make to ye. It will be toime for us to return home very shortly, and if ye do not hurry ye will be left.”” ‘“That’s my business,’’ was the reply they received, and without further parley they walked away, leaving the dwarf to follow if he pleased, They rejoined the rest of the party, and it was not long before Che Lung appeared, with a face like a thunder-cloud. His drowned-rat appearance attracted the notice of his friends. “What in the world ails you, old fellow ?? queried the Living Skeleton, who sat upon the back seat of th the wagon, with the Fat Woman by his side. “Nothing,” replied Che Lung. “You look wet.’’ “Suppose I do?” The Skeleton saw that the dwarf was not desirous Br being interrogated upon the subject, so he dropped it at once. es ‘At least you must congratulate me,” he cheerily “About what?” “ve gone and did if.” x “Did what ?” : $ ** Proposed and been accepted; ain’t I, baby ?”” And as he spoke he affectionately tickled the Fat Woman under the chin, ae ae blushed a rosy red, while the Skeleton contin- ued: f _ “Yes, Em and I have concluded to double up. She has accepted me, and after the show to-night I'll set up beer on it.” . ee : “Blast you and Em and the beer,” wied the dwarf, as he crawled up into a seat beside the Zuln chiefs, whose whole week’s salary had gone into the pockets of the Lightning Calculator, who, probably on account of his arithmetical skill, more than his Cau- casian birth, managed to get the better of his darker- skinned contemporaries. ~ 4 i The joke, though, was too good for Mulligan’s Boy to conceal, : And so it came about that upon the journey home the whole facts of the case were made known to the occupants of the wagon. 3 » Che Lung was unmercifully twitted. He maintained a sullen silence, but the expression of his face denoted that when it was in his power he would get square‘upon Mulligan’s Boy and Pete. The museum that night was crowded. As the pro- prietor had anticipated, ihe picnic had proyed a big card, and although he hay Tost his afternoon receipts by the affair, the steady flow of currency and silver into his coffers at the evening's exhibition denoted that he was a gainer at the end. At the end of the Sener t performance, Mulligan’s ae and Pete were called into the office of the pro- prietor. “Cullies,” said he, “I want yer to do a new act to- morrow.” ‘ “Anything you like,” cheerfully answered Pete. “Deedy. I’se glad ob it, fo” I’se dog-goned if Lisn’t tired ob being a Fat Boy.” “Me, too, sur,’ corroborated Mike. ‘ What is itye desoire us to now i “You can be a statue,’’ laughed the proprietor; “well put it on the bills as a miecvelbae cercor piece of mechanism.’’ ; The big words sor? of broke Mulligan’s Boy up. “Shure, I cannot clinch yez maning,”’ he sai ‘Easy enough. You see, you'get whitened up until you can pass for marble. Vl fake that part of the bea of all up for you. You are supposed to be Her- cules,” “Who is he??? The proprietor candidly confessed that really he did not know. “Some ancient cuss with a club, I think,” said he; “but I'll be blessed if I know. At any rate, I want you to posture for him; I had your platform made while you were all away. There it is in the corner,” While speaking he produced the platform. It was an ordinary wooden arrangement about two feet high, with a crank at one side. “That crank,” he said to Pete, “yer are,supposed to grind. Yer pard (Mulligan’s Boy) is the figure—arti- ficial, of course. Yer wind, and fust he raises the club. Yer wind it agin; he holds it aloft. Yer wind it some more, and he lets it descend. You've got to work that for about fifteen minutes at every exhibi- tion. The snap is new, and it ought to grab the gawks. See?’ By dint of repeated explanations they did see, and after several amateur veheareiis were perfect in the new role. Meanwhile where was the alderman? ‘ . Sadie B., as we have stated, had run away with him after meeting the picnic wagon laden with curiosities, and she had kept on running, the alderman clinging with commendable yet useless firmness upon the reins until a post was met, The mare passed it all right, but the sulky did not. One wheel caught into it, and the alderman was shot out of his seat. c He described a sort of semi-circle, and landed upon the pavement a mixed-up mass of humanity. ‘“*He’s killed !? cried a gentleman, a witness of the accident, as he rushed forward to O’Dowd’s assist- ance. ; The gentleman did not know the donghty little al- derman. He was not killed for a cent. Indeed, he was hardly hurt, for he had struck the cobble-stones in such a way that slight bruises upon his arms and an abrasion upon a knee were the only disastrous results of his fall. - As for Sadie B., she also was lucky. She ran for about a mile or so farther, and was caught by a policeman and taken to her stable. The alderman, as soon as he had recovered from the shock of his accident, set at work finding out how Mike and Pete had got upon the wagon of curiosities, Finally, he learned that they were the Fat Foster Brothers, of the——Museum. The next afternoon did the alderman hie himself to the Museum denoted. x Y He paid his way in and asked.for the Fat Foster Brothers. : y To his dismay, he was told that they were no longer e Te, : “Left last night,’? was the reply of the attendant whom he asked, ““ Where to?”? Don’t know, sir.’? _ While the alderman was pondering over the dis- agreeable intelligence, the voice of a second attendant was plainly heard: ; “Walk this way, ladies and gentlemen, and look at the marvelous master-pieces of mechanism—the celebrated Hercules, renowned in one and only automaton of his class in the world.” For want of something better to do, the alderman went into the room which the speaker was indicating. There he beheld the so-called Hercules, with uplifted club, while at the crank was Pete. s The alderman started back in surprise. “ Bedad!” he exclaimed, “ifthe marvelous master- piece av mechanism isn’t Mike, and the African at the crank, Pete, it is not mesilf, but somebody ilse, who is spaking.?? ’ PART XIX, THE alderman went for Pete at once. 4 Ye dingy-hued rascal!” he cried, ‘at last I have ye. f , Pete was fairly paralyzed for a second. . But Pete was not deficient in cases of emergency. Though slow he was sure. | : x “Golly, Massa O’Dow4d, dat youse?? he exclaimed. 2 “ Wha’ youse come from? Dead glad is I fo’ to see} youse.”” The darkey’s cool way of recognizing the alderman made that gentleman fairly quiver withrage. - ‘How dare you spake to me at all, ye tefal son ay acoal-yard?”’ he uttered. ‘“‘Is that e be- yant upon the pedestal ?”” ““Who?? asked Pete. , " “The whoitened horror that ye-are woinding up.’? “No, sah, me and Mike hab separated, we’se done quit s’ciety.” ' Ms. age elope together ??? s*¥ea: , but we’se parted. I’se got a job heah, while he——” _ ‘Where ishe? Spake, for Heaven's sake, for Corde- lia will soon make her exit from Jarsey.”? Pete put on a dismal expression. a “Fo’ de Lawd, I doan’t know,’’ said he; “de last i z heard ob him wuz last night. He’d jess got a job. “What at? “ Being shot out ob a cannon at a circus,” The alderman felt like fainting. This was nice news. His hopeful nephew entering into the career of a hu- man projectile. What would Cordelia say? “Be heavens ! he will be kilt as dead as Saint Pat- rick,” groaned he; ‘and if he is, I will be a wan- derer upon the face av the earth, for it is droive me forth like an outcast will Cordelia. I can stand up be- fore a proize foighter, but I cannot before Cordelia, I collapse loike a balloon got wid a pin. It is res- cue Mulligan’s Boy must I do, or the list ay snicides will be augmen by wan, and the Democratic ma- jority in the New York Board av Aldermen daycreased pro ratio. : Pete grinned to himself. “Can't help it, boss,’ said he. ‘‘I’se got fo’ to tend to bizness.. De ole statue hab got to be put in motion.” As he spoke he took hold of the crank, first spitting upon his hands, so as to secure a good grip. The alderman carefully surveyed the “Marvelous Masterpiece of Mechanism ” again. “Tf iver the ligaments ay a statue’s face resembled Mulligan’s Boy’s that statue does,” he muttered. “[ have a good moind to prod it wid me cane to see if it is aloive.”’ “Meanwhile Mulligan’s Boy was in a fever of fright, _ He had recognized his uncle at once, and it required all of the nerve he could muster to prevent him from jumping down off of his pedestal and running away. Common sense, however, told him that such a course would only entail his certain discovery and probable |' recapture. So he resolved to stay and face the music, The scheme upon which Pete and Mulligan’s Boy worked was very simple. a) i eS — once. he so-called Hercules suddenly sprang i ion and raised his club, PRE PAD AOR? mythology, the Pete turned twice. Hercules raised his club above his head. Three times. The club descended with a resounding thud upon the pedestal. That is, it generally did, This especial occasion it didn’t, Just as Mulligan's Boy was about to bring it down he saw the alderman in a sort of stooping position beneath him; the alderman was investigating the statue, Greater men than Mulligan’s Boy have succumbed to temptation. And Mulligan’s Boy succumbed, Leaning forward, he, with a whack which could be heard all over the house, brought the club down squarely upon the alderman’s head, The club was no fairy wand. Jt was of the genus called stuffed, and it was stuffed pretty firmly, too. At any rate, the force of the blow smashed the alder- man’s hat over his eyes, and sent him staggering back like a drunken man. Cries of astonishment were heard upon all sides. “Is he hurt ?”? “ How did it occur?” “ Something must have broken.” a “He got in the way.”? “Was too close to the statue.” So the spectators ejaculated, while they pressed eagerly around the alderman. ‘ ; He was not much injured, and he soon recovered from the bets pet daze which the unexpected blow had put him in. But he was mad. Mad as a turkey-cock at the sight of a red dress, _ It was but the work of a minute for him to pull off his coat and roll up his sleeves. r ~ Then he pulled hat from over his eyes, placed it upon the floor, and flung his vest after it. . An old gentleman present looked at his proceedings in blank surprise. j “What in the world do you mean to do, man ?’’ asked he. - 5 . The alderman executed a sot of Irish fandango. -Begorra, 1 will give that bloody ould statue fifty dollars to stand up before me three rounds,” said he. ‘“T can knock it out ay toime in six seconds!" “But, my dear sir,” the old gentleman feebly in- | ny £ ba a you know whatit is?’ “Machinery.” The alderman said he didn’t care if it was. No machinery or anything else’ conld take advan- tage of him when his back was turned. “He sthruck me a coward blow, and itis shipwreck him I will, An O’Dowd niver yet forgave a blow like that divil gave me,” 4 ‘ Probably the alderman would have been as good as his word and made a furious onslaught upon the ‘Hercules ” had not the manager of the museum, who had been informed of the occurrence, come rushing ir to the scene of it. He caught O’Dowd by the shirt collar. * Wot d’yer mean, yer crank’ he interrogated, “Who are ye?” asked the alderman, — “T run this museum.” _ Mis SAO te *Ye do?” r be Toe and do yer know wot I mean to do with you 7 e ey ot “ What? “Run yer out.” The manager was a big, strapping fellow, and the alderman had sense enough to see that he was not the other’s muscular equal, So he cooled off. He offered a compromise. “‘Bedad,”’ he said, “I will give ye foive dollars for wan good welt at yez darty, snaking statne, and ten dollars if ye will let me kick the bowels out ay it?” to gee ed oe have it. “Yer can’t kick up no row in my place,” said he, “Butit hit me?” x A ia rt “Well, it orter hit yeragain. I’m a just going to waft yer out upon the sidewalk, and yer can go fight yerself if yer wanter. Out yer go.” te oe ; Me oe po vest ?”? rie . send ’em er by express, Out yer go.” Out he did go. intakes: s: r In regular one, two, three order. Not alone was he bounced by the manager, but everybody else who could get a blow, or a kick, or a cul at him, considered it their bonnden duty to do so. ’Tis the world’s be © The result was that O’Dowd, when he arrived upon the sidewalk, looked as if he had been through a base- ball campaign. 5 me eye was blacked, his nose bleeding, and his cloth- ing torn. “There yer are,’’? said the manager, as he flung him in the gutter, ‘and yer’ll get worse next time. Go float down with the tide into the sewer.’’ Then the manager, flushed with his exertion, tri- umphantly returned back into the museum, leaving the poor alderman to his fate, A couple of good Samaritans assisted him to his feet, while a policeman came bustling up. ““What’s the row ?”? asked the Quaker City knight of the locust. ~ 5 “ Feller fired!’ a boot-black informed, “Where?” : “Ont der show.” That was sufficient for the copper. “Get out of this, or I'll run you in,” ding O'Dowd with his baton. The alderman attempted to resent. “Are ye aware of me personality?” he asked. wip~ . he said, prod- ing the blood off of his face with the back of his hand.
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sé MULLIGAN'S BOY. _— The policeman said he was not. More, he didn’t want to be. And he further stated that if the alderman did not make himself optically unevident that he would lightly dance him to the lock-up, The alderman shut up. He had enough experience of policemen to know that they are the same all over. A still tongue often saves a cracked head. So he slunk into a neighboring saloon, and sent a boy after his hat, coat and vest, which were, fora wonder, returned, As soon as he had made himself a little presentable, he went to the office of the lawyer who was suing Barnum’s Circus for the ejection of them both, The lawyer was in. He gleefally rubbed his hands when he heard O’Dowd’s statement. - “Another case! Bless me, you are a fortune,” he uttered. ‘How I wish I’d been there. I would have got kicked out, too. Please let me know when you are going, next, and I’ll go along.” “T don’t care so much about the assault as I do about the bye,” returned O’Dowd. ‘I’m sure, afther a third reflection, that the statue was Mulligan’s Boy.’’ The lawyer said it could be easily proved or dis- proved. “You are sure of the identity of the negro?’ he queried, ‘Shure as me great-grandfather rests in his grave. Ye could niver mistake the liver lips av the coon.” ' ““We, or rather I, can easily arrange matters then. I will get a writ ordering the proprietor of the museum to produce both the negro and the statue incourt. If, as you surmise, the statue is your nephew, the fact can be easily ascertained.” The idea appeared a good one to the alderman, and he requested that it be carried out, And it was, . But it failed. When the writ was served upon the museum man he failed to produce, because neither of the persons called for were in his custody. They had drawn their salaries and faded away the very night of the day on which the alderman was slung out of the museum, Where they had gone the alderman, in spite of his endeavors, could not find out, He hunted around for fully three days, even going so far as to employ a detective, who, of course, did not detect anybody. On the fourth morning the alderman sat in the read- fug-room of his hotel very much perturbed, “If I could only secure Mike I belave I wud die hap- py,’’ he uttered; “‘it isa maniac will 1 be if the strain upon me mentally is not soon alleviated.”* To pass away a few minutes he picked up the morn- ing paper. The first item which caught his eye was as follows: “ WARNING.—We are informed by reliable sources that a celebrated New York confidence man isin town, working the old bunco game. He generally represents himself as a son ofa New Yorkalderman. He is short, with a Jewish cast of features, and is a very glib talker,’? The alderman read it over carefully. .““I don’t see how men can be tuk in by the suckers,” spake he, “I’dloike to have wan ay thim thry to ; iN vl [ 0 A ee * Bedad!” he exclaimed, “if the marvelous master-piece av mechanism isn’t Mike, and the African at the crank, Pete, it is not mesilf, but somebody ilse, who is spaking.” pick me up. Itis picked up for dead he wud be him- self afther I had concluded me fistie opinions av his nature.” Lighting a cigar, he strolled out into the street. He had not walked four blocks from the hotel before he was accosted. His accoster was & young man dressed very stylish- ly, with a diamond stud twinkling in his shirt front, and a mass of watch-chain, ‘* Hello, alderman, auf dis ain’t a surbrise; when you gets here ?’’ said he, seizing the alderman’s hand and shaking it heartily. ‘‘I yust got here a day orso ago. How vos all of your folks.” The alderman looked at the young fellow. He hesitated, “Bedad, ye have the best of me,’ at last he said. I fail to place ye.”’ “You vosn’t don’t know me?” Sto.” “Dat’s funny.” “Why 2”? *“You und mein father vos very thick.” “Who's your father?’ ‘‘Alderman Levi; und I vos his son.” O'Dowd fairly recoiled. The truth burst upon him. This young fellow must be the bunco man spokenof in the paper. Hine make sure, the alderman cast a side glance at im. “ Yes, he*was short, and his features were decidedly Jewish. It must be he without a doubt. = The alderman’s first impulse was to call for the po- ce. His next was the one he resolved to adopt. “I will kill him meself at the earliest opportunity,” he mentally agreed. 2 pater nlt\)\\t ) nai oa a The young fellow, happily unaware of the current of the alderman’s thoughts, had grabbed him by the arm, and insisted upon the acceptance of a cigar. The alderman took it and lit it, while next, Mr. Levi, as he called himself, insisted that drinks be got. “Dere yos a saloon down here where de whisky- sour dey make vould curl de hair auf a pilliard pall, he said. The alderman grimly consented to be guided to this mecca of whisky-sours. It was a dingy-looking place, and the alderman began to feel afraid of foul play. He felt in his pocket, however, and was partially re- assured to find that his revolver was there. The two passed down a couple of steps and through a curtained door into a little bar-room. i" r ce oe \ The bar-keeper lolled over the bar half asleep, but he brightened up as he beheld the two eater, “ Hello, Shack !” said Levi. “*Hello, Mose !”’ replied the bar-keeper. Got the stuf?’ “Yes. “With you?” “No.” ““When’ll you have it ?”” “To-morrow. Keep it dark.” ** I never squeal.’ £ That was all that the alderman heard of the conver- sation, for the rest of it was carried on in whispers, the two men occasionally casting glances, as he thought, at him. Presently they finished, and the bar-keeper turned to the alderman and asked what he would have, “Vichy,”’ replied the alderman. Mr. Levi looked at him in wonder, “Vhere vos your padge ?” asked he, “What badge ?”” “Demberance padge. How long vas you been a gold vater man. You vosn’t used to be.” “Age brings wisdom,” replied the alderman; ‘‘ the oulder I grow theless, begob, I know,’’ “Vell, dake vot you blease; but, as for me, gifme a vhisky sour,” declared Levi; “‘vun auf der old-dimers vot makes you feel like going on a racket.’? Med ia one but three did Levi stow away before they le! In spite of all persuasion did the alderman: stick to Vichy. “They can put no chloride ay son in that,”’ he uttered to himsel _ When Levi at last got up on the sidewalk he was * just about ready foranything, or pretended he was. pee or other poi- =
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MULLIGANS BOY. 37 “Where you vos pound for?"? he asked of the al- derman. ““Nowheres,”* _ Den goom mit me."? “Where ?”? “You know my father ?!? “Yes,” “He vos a nice man?” ty Yes.”’ “ And he vos lucky ?” “T believe so.” “Vell, I gifs youid avay, I vos schoest as lucky as* my father; vot you subbose occured to me yestere day?” * What?" : “Dere vos & horse-race at Point Breeze Park, und dere vos two horses run; vun vos @ grack, the other “* He’s a lunatic |” Thus exclaimed the alderman and Mr. Levi, simul- taneously. : Two or three of the crowd, confused at these con- tradictory replies, sought to solve the real state of affairs by pulling the two apart. Mr. Levi arose. “Shacob auf der Pillar auf Stone. Alderman, you must got der hydrophobia,” said he, ruefully. ‘I vos kicked all to pruises. But I getsquare. I sues for damages.” ““Ye sue,”’? wrathfully replied the alderman; “ the first policeman I see I will have ye locked up, ye con- fidence rascal.” “Me a gonfidence rascal,” bewilderedly ejaculated Levi; “dot vos some oxditional graziness,”” “Ye can’t pass it off that way,’ Alderman O’Dowd Ce | 4 | | Leaning forward, he, with a whack which could vos no good. Veil, for funs I puys der no good in der bool-room. Vot you subbose 7” < “Paix, I hayn’t the faintest idea,’ “The grack drops dead, auf heart-disease, und der no good vins; bays me sixty dollars for five. How vos dot?” The alderman confessed it was very good, and Levi pulled out a ticket. F “Come to the bool-room,” requested he, “ until I get it cashed.” Whatever lingering doubts as to Levi's character that the alderman might have had were dispelled by the request. - It was the old bunco game worked with a poo) in- stead of a lottery ticket. The alderman resolved to act. P “Tf I slaughter the devil me name will be in all ay the papers as a public benefactor,’’ said he, softly. ‘‘ Me name is not Charles Francis Adams.” _ Like @ miniature whirlwind did he spring upon Levi. ‘One blow of his fist knocked the young man down, and then the alderman began to kick him. F “Ye liar, ye bunco fake, ye siphon-nosed swin- <dler!” he erled out at every kick, ‘ 'Thry to impose upon me, will she I luked grane, did1? Be thesowl ay St. Bridget, I'll whack yez back-bone !" ‘*Shiminy 1’? bawled Levi, trying to getup. ‘‘ The man was gone grazy. It vos der Vichy vent to his prain. Hellup! Hellup!’’ His cries attracted the usual crowd, who spring up, the Lord knows where from, atevery street incident, like the fabled dragon’s teeth. ‘What is it?’ asked everybody at once. They received the replies : ““Buneo fraud |" ““Grazy man |" ‘** He's a darty thafe !" tic a i) Al a lf aunt It SE ee) x 5 replied, and he related his account of the affair to the crowd, It sided with him. ‘Take him to the station-house,”’ advised fully a dozen men. “Show me the way and I will,’’ the alderman an- swered. They were perfectly willing, and soon Mr. Levi, un- der escort of the rabble, was being lugged to the hotel in front of which the green lamp always burns, de- spite his protestations of who he really was. We will leave Mr. Levi to continue his pleasing journey, and return for a while to the adventures of Mulligan’s Boy and Pete. They left the museum richer than they ever had been before in their lives; twenty-five dollars between them Was a regular gold mine for them. They went to a cheap lodging-house, and there re- Mained, very dark, for three days. At the end of this period, not hearing from the alderman, they concluded that it was safe to get out. Whar will we go next?” queried Pete. Mulligan’s Boy considered, *Let’s go to Pittsburg,” he said. ““ Wha?’ will we do dere?” “Lave it to luck.” « ‘“ How will we’se go??? ‘““ By the cars, av coorse,’! f For once Pete proved himself the smartest of the wain, ‘“Dat'll nebber do,” objected he. “Why?! “De alderman are a@ sarching arter us. Mebbe he will have a detective at de depot.” Mulligan’s Boy confessed that there was a prob- ability of such an ensuement, “We'll have to go outside of the railroad yard and try to catch a ride,’’ he said. It was decided that such a course would be best. be heard ail over the house, brought the club down squarely upon the alderman’s head, So that afternoon found them outside of the railroad yard, waiting for a train to come past upon which they could get. Several sped past, but none stopped, and they were just despairing of catching one when a freight train came to a pause near them. The engine was in front of them, and the engineer’s head was turned. Mike had a great idea. “ Be heavens !”’ he ejaculated, ‘‘ we willjourney upon the cow-catcher, lt will be the hoight av fun.” No svoner said than done. The two boys clambered on to the cow-catcher, and caught hold of the standards. The train moved slowly on.. “Golly, ain’t dis nice ?? exclaimed Pete, ‘*Hoigh pie |? said Mulligan’s Boy. | x Nw Just then the engineer, looking out ofthe cab win- dow, discovered them. A smile crossed his face, Se give them allof the free ride they want,” he said. PART XX. We left Mr, Levi being dragged along by the alder- man, a self-appointed but very Zealous escort. Mr. Levi had become convinced that it was useless to struggle against fate; in fact, he had fallen into a sort of daze. erent he was aroused from his lethargy by a voice, “Hello, Levi, what. ails you? Where yer going?’ Levi looked wp. Assoon as he saw who it was that had spoken, his face assumed a joyous expression. ‘“Mr. Mulready,” he cried, addressing the owner of the voice, a big, strapping man, who had the regular cut ofa Philadelphia politician. ‘Whol vos?’ “Young Levi,’’ was the answer; ‘what's the matter wid yer? Drunk again, and don’t know yerself?”? “No; I willoxblain later. I vos young Levi?” “Ye. “Old Levi vos my father?" ' “ Yes.” “He lives—where ?”” “New York.” “He vos an alderman?” “ Yes.” Mr. Levi fairly danced up and down with elation. “vot I dells you?’ he cried to the alderman. ‘*Vosn’t I dell you dot I knows you ; dot my father and you vos friendts? Yet you calls me a bunco- sdeerer und a fraud, und efery ding else.” _ The alderman began to fear he had put his foot in it, as he usually did, more especially as he was ac-
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a “but gare auf it. 33 MULLIGAN’S BOY. ~ Snanted with Mulready, and knew him to be relia- e. Mulready singled him out. “That you, O'Dowd?” he asked. “Are yer in this muss too? What does this all mean? Itis as mixed up as a nigger dog-fight.”’ “Tdells you,’ said Mr. Levi, eagerly. ‘‘The alder- man vos gone crazy py Vichy.” ‘“ By Vichy ?’ repeated Mulready. “Yes, he drinks seferal kewarts, und it goes into his head, Heimagines dot I vos & confidence veller.’? Mulready looked more at sea than ever, until the alderman explained the occurrence, “oT wur me own fault,’’ he acknowledged. “I wur too imperative in me expressions. Mr. Levi, I apolo- gize. But what wur ye talking about to the bar-keeper of the saloon? Yez mysterious references had a crim- inal tinge.’? ‘ - Mr. Levi laughed. } ‘Dot vos apoutsome Re ee whisky vot the old man vos got,” he said. ‘Py der vay, let us go pack we haf some aufit. I’d dakes der frosting off auf der cake, t ig Mulready, who had been having a hearty laugh at the Comedy of Errors, stopped his mirth. “Tm born of gilt-edged parents,’ he uttered, ‘and upon an occasion of this kind, I can’t get below wine. Open a bottle, O'Dowd.” " Bedaa, I will,” rejoined the alderman, “‘upon wan condition,” “ What ??” “That ye niver open yez mouth about me exploit in New York. If Cordelia heard ay it she would foriver hould it over me head as a weapon ay ridicule to sub- due me into submission.”* They promised faithfully that nota syllable of the episode should pass their lips, and they adjourned into a near-by palace of refreshment, oy Not one, but several bottles were opened, and when Mulready, who had a head like iron, excused him- self, Mr. Levi and O’Dowd must crack a fourth one by themselves. x Over it they became,confidential. ‘The alderman clung fondly to Mr. Levi, and swore that he loved him like a son, and exacted a sacred promise that ‘pel as soon as they reached New York Mr. Levi would move his trunk to the alderman’s house and live there forever. ~ Levi in return was so af- fected that he wept on the alderman’s neck, and tear- fully requested him to accept his gold watch and dia- mond studs as a slight token ofaffection. ~ * We vill pe like Shacob und David,” he said. “Or Romeo and Julict,”? answered the alderman. “Ttis as thick as flies in boarding-house butter will we po Faix, ifI cud only foind those byes, I wud be appy.’? et What poys?” ; ‘“Me nephews Mike, and Pete.” “ Pete vos a coon?” “Yes. -How wur ye aware av it?” Mr. Levi’s face temporarily darkened at the recol- lection. . | Ny “Dey vos de suckers vot, vhen I vos bassing py your house mit a Jouns, lady, pawled after me: ‘ Levi, Leyi, vot vould der vife und der driplets say auf dey could see you owit ubon der mash?’ Vot vos der re- sult? I gould not gonvince dot young lady but dot I vos married, und dot my intentions toward her vos berfectly dishonorable. She vos give me der shake, und leaf me Dy. der gorner.’? : * Jist loike thim,’? commented the alderman; ‘ they have no riverence for anybody, I belave if an angel wur to appear in their prisince it would not be foive minutes before they wud be conniving how to saycure the pin feathers out av his wings. It is two daisies they are, and they are lost.’? “Dey vos?” * “Yes,?? ‘Den you vos ought to set ub another pottle. If I vos der guardian auf dose poys I would hafa celebra- tion und set off fire-vorks if I yos really sure dot dey vos lost.” The alderman sighed. “Personally, I wud be the happiest man upon earth; @ little know the skeleton which Jurks in me rath refrigerator. Ye know me woife ?” “T vos. “She wur a very raymarkable woman. Forstrength av character and intellect she aiquils Bonaparte. Shure, we had a foight wan noight in me saloon, and! wur jist groping behind the bar after me revolver, when Cordelia came down and cowed thim wid her prisence. A glance ay her aigle eyes wud quell a riot.” “T pelieve id.” ‘But she has her idiosyneracies, All great people have. Cordelia’s is a woild love for her nephew, al- a why she should I don’t see, Didn’t he place hair- pins in her iF, and entice her to promenade out in the {strate the legend, ‘Stolen from Alderman O' Dowd’s,’ pinned upon her back. But ye can niver tell about a woman.” Then hé proceeded to enlighten Levi farther about the escape of the boys and his, so far, fruitless pursuit of them, not forgetting to relate about Mulligan’s Boy’s assumption of Hercules at the museum, ' “They must be found,” said O’Dowd, in conclusion, “and foind thim will Lif I have to organize a North Pole expedition in their search.” The light of holy intent shone on Levi’s face. It even illuminated his hooked nose. *‘ Mishter O'Dowd,” he uttered, ‘I vos got nottings to.do.. I vos got more money dani vant, Fairst my grandfather Eli, he dies und leafe me monish. Den my Aunt Repecca, she die und Jeafes me monish; next my uncle Moses, de one I vos named after, he dies und Jeafes me more monish. I yos got all auf de monish dot I vant. It vos a drouble to me to dake Und now, sellep me Bob, I hear dot mine + . gousin Michael vos apout to die und leafe me all of his monish. Py Sheneral Shackson, I haf sent sixteen doctors to save his life. Mishter O’Dow4, I vill follow you, if necessary, to dé Chinese Sea, before we will give up finding those poys.” O'Dowd was affected at such friendship from a man whom he had stigmatized as a bunco man, a confidence fraud, and a swindler. ‘* Levi,” said he, “I will niver forget ye ; so long as ye have a penny I willstick by ye. I will exhibit to ye Irish gratitude. Ye farmer’s son behoint the bar, open another bottle av FidiAer Leary—I mane Piper Heidsieck.” The ‘farmer's son,’ alias the bar-keeper, obeyed, and then Mr. Levi reciprocated. The result was that when they reached the stree they were enthusiastically full. . They rambled down the street arm-in-arm, owning all of the sidewalk. “The search, be heavens, has—hic—commenced,”’ said the alderman. A ‘“Sallright,” stammered Mr. Levi. ‘Lesh look on allsides. May be tind ’em now—right ’way.’? The alderman consented. — He thought the idea was a good one. He did look upon all sides, He peered about. lamp-posts, looked around hy- drants, glanced down into areas, and nearly fell into two or three ash-barrels, in his search for the boys. Mr. Levi eagerly assisted him, and was nearly run over half @ dozen times while peeking down sewer entrances beneath the corners. : Finally they came to a clothing store. In front of it was a dummy—one of those wooden figures employed by clothiers to set off their suits, This particular dummy was that of a boy —an Irish boy, evidently, by the expression of his face. The artist, whoever it was that had made it, had done his work surprisingly well. ~ 3 The dummy looked real life-like. it was brilliantly garbed, too, a swell suit of the. latest style encasing it, while an artificial rose bloomed in its button-hole. Mr. Levi was the first to catch sight of it. ae stopped as short as grandfather’s clock. “Blesh me!’ he exclaimed. “What is it?” asked O’Dowa. ** Jesh look.’? ‘s Where ?”” “Front glothing sdore.”’ ‘ The alderman looked. if Fi eee pi il aa he. x ere’s Mul’gan’s poy.”’ “where?” pee: : re Stan’ in front glothing sdore. Rose in his putton- ole. The alderman, by dint of hard work, succeeded in concen trating his gaze upon the dummy. “ Bedad!” exclaimed he, “itis me nephew. To the —hic—rescue, Levi, we will kidnap him.” Levi was ° 4 iene ‘He hoatsely stated that, if necessary, he would spill his heart’s blood to capfure the kid. He was about to adyance™at once, but O'Dowd re- strained him, “Don’t ascend upon—hic—him from the front,’”? he said, ‘‘ or he will flee. 1’ll—hic—makea plunge upon hisrear. Pretind to be dapely—hic—engrossed in the scanery in the windie, whoile I swape down upon— hic—him in his rear.” - Levi promised, : Then did the alderman make a strategic detour of about two blocks, to the great detriment of the pedes- trians whom ne bunked against, As the wolf goes for the unsuspecting sheep, so did O'Dowd pounce upon his prey. “He must be—hic—fast aslape wid his eyes open,” surmised O'Dowd. ‘I will tache the infant divil to kKape a watch out forward.”’ He jumped and grabbed the unsuspecting dummy by the back of the neck. Levi sprang to his assistance, and also got a grip upon the wooden boy. [have ye at last!” exclaimed the alderman. “You vos a goner!”* exclaimed Levi: The dummy did not'say a word. He did not stir. He was perfectly passive in the hands of his captors. The alderman, full as he was of wine, noticed it. “T belave, begob, he’s paralyzed,” uttered he. “Not much,” said Mr. Levi; ‘he vos blaying off. Vhere vos a gab?” A cab—for Mr. Levi's last sentence was a request for one when translated—happened to be passing. It was empty. Mr. Levi. hailed it. * Here!’? he called. The driver drew up to the curb-stone. “ Want me?’ asked he. * Yes.’ answered Levi; then to O'Dowd: “Gomealong, alderman; carryhimhome—inagab,”” _ The alderman and Levi caught hold of the dummy and started to lug it along. | By this time a crowd had collected. No wonder, The spectacle of two drunken gentlemen endeavor- ing to carfy a dummy into a cab was enough to collect a@ crowd anywhere, Just as they had got the dummy to the cab-door, and were attempting the difficult feat of getting it in, the proprietor of fhe store came rushing out. “ For Heayen’s sake, what are you about?!’ asked he, clutching hold of the alderman by the sleeve. “Who are ye?’ asked the alderman, -“T own that dummy.” “ What dummy?” “The one you have.” “That ain’t a—hic—dummy. It’s a—hic—boy.” celebrated _ “ Thumphim inthroat,” put in Mr. Levi. ‘“ Firehim- ingutter.” The advice seemed good to the alderman, who re- garded the proprietor as some officious_intermeddler, or maybe a friend of Mulligan’s Boy. He let go of the dummy upon Mr. Levi’s assurance that he could get it into the cab himself, and proceeded to go for the proprietor. “Dl larn ve to interfere wid proivate business,"” said O'Dowd; ‘it is cleanse the—hic—thoroughfare wid ye, will 1?’ : It is easy, oftentimes, to say a thing, but tre- quently the execution proves the reverse of easy. So the alderman found out. Anybody who picked the Mi ok of the clothing store out for a slouch was very liable to get left. The alderman got one fairly good. blow at his op- ponent, a pipper in the neck, but that was all. ‘True, the thoroughfare was‘tleansed, . But not by the proprietor. : O’Dowd was the object which did the cleansing. . The dummy owner flung him about like an Indian- elub, and finally pitched him head-first into the street, amidst the applause of the crowd, who are always ready to applaud the victor. Meantime Mr. Levi was wrestling with the dummy. It was too big to go into the cab, stiff as it was, “Toubie ub? requested Mr. Levi. . The dummy wouldn’t. ; 1 ? Then Mr. Levi threatened to hit itin the stomach, which generally will temporarily double up the most obstinate human frame. } The threat had no effect upon the dummy. It-maintained a contemptuous silence, and what Mr. Levi considered an aggressive silence, He carried out his threat. . : He hit the dummy a resonant blow upon the stomach. The result was unexpected. and Mr. Levi The dummy remained stiff as ever, felt as if all of his knuckles were broken, He howled in pain. — ‘ He dropped the dummy. rea" 4 “Sonaulagun—gotstummicklikebrass,” he said, “nserpickaxnex!” : Peay i _Just then he felt a strong hand laid upon his shoulder. He turned about, The hand belonged to a policeman, “Come along, yer lush,’’?. mildly requested the policeman. will ye?” 4 spe The policeman partially sobered Mr. Levi up. He looked at the wooden image which lay upon the sidewalk. Kd , “Ain't that alive?” he asked. ; “ Alive—it’s wood,” said the policeman, Disdainfally kicking it, ‘‘ You must be full as a sar- dine-box.’* 2 alt dawned upon Mr. Levi that he had made a mis- a “Whazzergoin todowithme ?” asked he. * Lock yer up.” ‘ Whazzertor ?” “ — Dae? ?, “Whazzerthat 2"? “Drunk and disorderly.” That did not appear to please Mr. Levi very much. “Pll bologize,’’ he said. “Who to?) * Y “Dummy.” . “Stull,” laughed the | plea “vou’ve had your fun, now Dll have mine. We'll form a procession down to the station-house. Where are you from?” “New York.” “That settlesit. You'll get ten years at least.” Mr, Levi felt hopeless. ‘“Wheres ald’man !’’ he asked, “What alderman ?”” 5 O'Dowd.” “Who's he?” “Fren’ mine.” * How do I know?” “He's wiz me,”? Alight broke upon the policeman’s mind. us a you mean the other lush?’ he interroga ted. © Yer. “He is out in the middle of the street, if he ain’t run over. Atleast, he was knocked out there.” “Who by 77" “Fellow runs the clothing store. You stay here and don’tmove. I’m going after him.” The policeman left Mr. Levi, whom he supposed was too well braced to try to escape. Mr. Levi wasn’t. The cab was yet there, and Mr. Levi said to the driver: “Twenty dollars—drivemeaway.” r The driver tumbled, Twenty dollars was a good deal—not to be picked up every day—and he was willing to risk a little for it. ‘Jump in quick,’ he said. Mr. Levi did so. s Crack went the whip, and away went the horse, as fast as ever a cab-horse went. The policeman, who was picking the alderman up, looked in surprise as the cab whirled past him. However, he surmised the true state of the case at once. “Stop !”” baswled he, brandishing his club His order was not obeyed, The cab did not ae And Mr, Levi, putting his head out of the back win- dow, placed his fingers to his nose and serenely twirled them around. Somewhat wrathily the policeman went back to the alderman. O’Dowd was too much confused by the licking he had received to olfer any resistance, and he was sum- marily led off to the station-house, where he was locked up in a cell, oR 3 “Get drank and try to steala dummy, ”
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MULLIGAN’S -BOY. 39 Mr. Levi drove all over Philadelphia till he thought he was safe from pursuit. Then he hg aes the cab and got out ata quiet street, paying the driver the sum he had agreed to. His ride had one good effect. It had sobered him up. He went to his hotel, and there was Mulready. ‘Hello, Moses,” said the politician. “You look ale.’? Mr. Levi held up both hands. “Vot I vos peen through to-day vos enough to make anybody pale,’ was his answer. ‘“ Any more adventures ?”’ “The voods vos grouded mit dem.”” “Tell me about it—but first, where is old Shorty?’ “You means O’Dowd?”” “Yes,” ‘“T thinks he yos dead.” Mulready started. “Why ?? Mr. Levi sank into a chair and related the whole of i rasa 8 from the time he had left Mulready. ulri burst into a fit of laughter. “The alderman had better. home,’ he said. “Philadelphia is too much for him. Why, he’s the talk of the whole city: been in hot water ever since he’s been here.. Come with me?” “Where ?? > ? see hi “Dot vos he is.” “T do,” confidently said Mulready. “Vhere?”? a “In the station-house, sure. He’s spent most of his time there since he arrived here.” Taking a car, the two made a round of thestation- houses. The alderman was not in the first three they vis- ited. ¥ i the fourth, the sergeant at the desk was well m.” ¥ a impossible. I yosn’t don’t know yhere known to Mulready. “Hello, Mul iy,’’ said he. “ Hello, Jim. How’s biz?’ “Light, Only one arrest.” “Who'sthat?? «4 drunk.” “What kind?” - “Old fellow—Mick. Well-dressed. Raising a riot down in front ofa clothing store in Chestnut street.’ “That's him,’ said Mulready. ‘. “Know him?’ > : , ‘Von . “What's his name?” ; i “ Didn’t give any. Believe he sa id he never had ne”? “ Well, it’s Alderman O’Dowd,”’ * Alderman of what??? “New York,’ * rh v “Thought 80. ar) “Any Way..to get him out? “One. ‘ “What's that?) - «Know Judge Murray 3 rm “Lives right above here. Go up and tell him to come down. He can discharge him on bail.” Mulready didso. — ary i He and Mr. Levi went to the judge’s house, and—— Here I have actually left Mull upon the front of the engine, clinging on to the stand- ard, while I have been rela’ i@ adventures of the «i ralligan’s Boy and Pete enjoyed their 1 ulligan’ y' eir ride greatly. It was @ nice and airy place, and they cont sed a the SODERT 3 Beane st of all, it did not, acme of bliss, cost anything. The train was moving very slowly, and they had plenty of time for talk. Of course their talk was about one subject, the al- (erney chnokied as they thought of hi They chuckled as they thought of his discom “4 in? Bat dat he’s de maddest white old fool in Phtlnte phia,” grinned Pete. “He's a kicking himself wid rage,” responded Mulli- gan’s Boy, ‘‘ while we are——” “High pie,” said Pete; “done tole youse what, chillen, dis is nice.” ‘*Gouldn’t be, nicer,” agreed Mulligan’s Boy. Misguided youths. If they could have seen the chuckle upon that fiend- ish engineer’s face as he moved the lever. “Ill give ema free ride that will turn the wool on that, ogans head white,” he said to the fireman. e fireman grinned approvi . “Sock it to them,’’ he yk f' : n’s Boy and Pete PART XXI. boys rode along for a few seconds as happy as arks. i 3 They conversed about the alderman, and smiled all ! over as they thought about his various discomfitures. But suddenly they noticed'that the speed of the train was increasing. Previously it had been moving at a slow rate of speed, but now each minute gave it addi- tional velocity, In a little while they were fairly flying. With faces white as chalk they hung on to the standards. “* It is the life knocked out of us by wrial concussion will we have!”? Mulligan’s Boy uttered, ‘Bad cess to the day I tuk this method av progression.” Poor Pete was too scared to make any reply. yrae face actually seemed to grow at least five shades Tr. : He began to repeat his prayers. . ‘Now I’se tay me down to sleep,’’ he said—-‘‘ what’s next, Mike? Shuah, we’se goners.” ‘ Probably they would have been if the train had kept on at the same rate of speed at which it was progress- ing when he made the remark. here were several other trains, however, but a few minutes ahead of the freight, and the engineer soon had to reduce his momentum, or a collision would have assuredly occurred, Indeed, he brought the train to a full stop, and get- wag out of the cab made his way towards the free- riders. Pete was on the watch and beheld him approach. “Cheese it! Skip !’’ called out he to Mulligan’s Boy. “Here comes the engineer.” He jumped off and Mike followed. They jumped the track fence, and sped over the meadows until taey thought themselves safe, Then they turned about to behold the engineer, perched upon the cow-catcher energetically shaking his fist at them. The boys made no reply. _ r Thankful am I to recuperate wid me loife,’”’ said a. al Boy, as he perceived the train move slowly forward. Pete sat down and puiled out from some hidden re- ceptacle about his garments a dogs’-eared, crumpled- covered pocket-book, From another receptacle he drew forth a dwarfed pencil, most of whose top had been bitten off. Seating himself upon the top rail of the meadow fence, he inquired of Mike the date of the day. Mike gave it. Thereupon did Pete, with a face as ined as that of a statue, proceed to make anentry with the dwarfed ee into the dogs'-eared, crumpled-covered pocket- 00k. t Mulligan’s Boy regarded him with surprise. “What are ye about?’ queried he. “Making an entry,’’ replied Pete. * Av what?” “His death.” —~ y ' “ Whose death ?”” 4 “The engineer’s.”” “Who's going to kill him 9’ “De League ob Death!” solemnly returned Pete; ‘he dies at New Yeah’s. Dah is seberal to fade away before; him.” Mulligan’s Boy" had all but forgotten about. the League of Death, but Pete had not. — Yr In his eyes that society was as powerful as the an- ee Gel ge or the more modern carbonari. Having placed the engineer upon the records of the doomed, Pete felt much better. \ He returned both book and pencil to their homes, and asked of Mulligan’s Boy: | Z ; - “ Wha's we gwine fo’ to do?” This was a poker. ‘ * ; Really, Mulligan’s Boy did not know what they were going to do. z He took a seatupon the rail alongside of Pete, and the two conferred upon their future course Of action. They finally came to the conclusion that it would not be best for them after all to go to Pittsburg, as the alderman would be sure to look for them, first, in the large cities and towns. “We'll hoire out wid some farmer for a whoile,” Mike at last concluded. Pete thought the idea was a good one, and the two started off in search of the proposed farmer. bd struck at least a dozen farmers, but with no- res - They were looked upon in the majority ofcases with suspicion; regarded as runaways, and curtly told that there was no work for them. But at last they fetched up before a quaint, old-fash- ioned, single floored house, built entirely of stone, rt evidently one of Pennsylvania’s oldest inhabit- ants. In front of the house was a neatly-trimmed lawn, and halfa dozen grand old oak trees, which waved their branches protectingly over it, as if screening it from observation. ape a rude bench, rude, yet quaint, sat an old man with white hair, clad in Quaker garb, from the broad- brim hat to the old-fashioned, snuff-colored knee- breeches, id He was efully smoking a pipe, and at his feet lay a most ferocious bull-dog, with blood-shot eyes, Jaws agape and lolling tongue. The boys stood outside of the fence which sur- Tounded the peaceful-looking abode and gazed in. in luks loike a noice ould nibs,’’ said Mulligan’s “Nice? demurred Pete, “ deedy he doan’t, He looks to me like a debbie.” a Shure not. He luks quiet.’ Bp se Will youse jess see dat mouf.’? . “<The mouth is all roight.?? a Speck dat it is, fo’ him, but not fo’ me. S’pose he oat, oe jaws fixed onter youse. Wha’ would Mulligan’s Boy perceived that there was ‘&@ misap- me te t sd o do ye think I am tal 9 Sonse: king about?’? he ques- “De dog.” mi “T ain't.” « “who is youse ?”” “The man.’? . Pete grinned amiably. Po A et “De man’s all nice ‘nuff,’ he said, “but de dog, he’s a terror.” : “Paix, I ain't afraid ay him,’ spoke Mulligan’s eg “oTwur vaccinated for hydrophobia wur me- silf. I will go first.” os He opened the gate and walked boldly in, Pete followed difidently. a) 4 ' The Quaker looked up as he beheld the twain ad- vance. He put down his pipe. ‘* What canst I do for thee?” he questioned. Mike, as usual, spoke up. “ Plaze, sur,” he said, ** we are twins.” The Quaker looked from one to the other in a puz- zled sort of way. “Verily, you do not look like it. Never did I see Hibernian and African twins,” spoke*he, ‘‘We'se ain’t real twins,’’ chipped in Pete, keeping a cautious eye upon the bull-dog, who, however, manifested no signs of hostility, ‘‘we’se twins by de force ob circumstances. Dat is twins in misfortune.” Hére Pete paused and looked at Mulligan’s Boy. Mulligan’s Boy understood the look. It meant that he must carry out the fiction the rest of the way. ? "4 “ What the nay; says is thrue,”’ he began at once. “ Mesilf and himsilf are both orphans, thrust upon a cowld worruld at an airly age. We joined forces, and iver since last Sathurday a wake ago it is twins, in a certain av the worrnud, have we n, and, if ye plaze, it is a favor wud I ask ay ye?” “ ‘The innocent face of Mulligan’s Pet the rascal could assume a prize expression of innocence when it suited his Fg leer ek Ce the Quaker, “What is it I can do for thee, lad?” queried he. ~ “Give us work,” returned Mike. 2 **Somefing fo’ to do,’? answered Pete. : The Quaker turned towards the portico which sur- rounded the house. . “Ruth!” called he. x ao; ; Presently a lady appeared, clad in the quaint, yet picturesque, garb of the Society of Friends, Her features were exactly like that of the Quaker, needed but a furtive glance to tell that the two were brother and sister. He pointed to the boys. “Here are two youths who desire work,” explained Ruth scrutinized the pair as only a woman can. “Who are they?” she asked. —- ‘ a uaker related what Mike had told him, and Mike farther made additions tohis story, = = ; Clally as worked in various fancy touches about a dying mother and a drunken father, and a desolate childhood, and Pete he represented as a street waif, whom he had picked up. 1g Wg ade. ‘ “They look fair, Reuben,” she intoned, “and verily the negro may be of t use to me in the kitchen, The Ce whose name was in whole Reuben Blackridge, co , “Twill the house and wash. Verily, thee look dirty.” they did. ~ No wonder. — A ride panes the front of an engine, going at the rate e save a certain feminine softness of expression, and it ' “ What does thee want, Reuben ?” she asked. he. ‘ What does thee think of them ?”? The € The Quakeress seemed impressed, especially as Mike all of the old gags. Olhiat 3 _Ruth’s decision was soon mad whilst the other can help the gardener.” nsented, . 4 take thee for awhile,” he said, ‘Come in Verily of sixty miles an hour, is not calculated to improve one’s cleanliness, the mandate, and | their be- the cool So neg Indubitably so. ** Bedad, it’s mesilf who is not carin’ to be chawed up,’’ he said. “He will not hurt thee.” “He moight.” “No; see.’ Then Mr. Blackridge put the dog through a series o1 remarkable maneuvers. He pinched his ears and pulled the rat-like tail. He kicked him gently. He picked him up by the neck and jammed him down upon the floor with a thud. ‘The dog made no resistance. He seemed, rather, in fact, to like it, for he squatted down upon his hind quarters and lifted his paw beseechingly to his master, just as if he had com- mitted some wrong act, and was in search of for- giveness. His master patted-his bull head, “Thee are, all right, William,” he said, “good- natured silly that thee are.” Turning to the boys, who were astonished at the proceedings, he said: “There is a case of a lamb in wolf's clothing. Wil- liam would not hurt a flea, for of a verity no bigger baby ever existed. He is all looks and no actions. Get thee down and have speech with him,” , Somewhat cautiously the boys obeyed. i They found that the Quaker’s words were true. William sniffed amiably around their pants, jamped
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4O MULLIGAN’S BOY. up on their lege and held up his paw, and altogether acted like the affectionate fool he was. Mike and Pete felt foolish at their fears, and petted him to his heart’s content, while Blackridge looked on approvingly. “hee three will be fast friends,” he prophesied. “Now, to supper, lads.’? And such a supper ! The sno table-cloth, upon which-rested hot biscuit and iced preserves, fragrant tea, cheese fit for Delmonico’s, foaming glasses of milk, cake which would make an epicure’s mouth water, and a basket of fruit, red-cheeked peaches, dark plums, grapes and sweet apples. : Pete gazed at the spread with awe. “ Hi, we've hit it dis time heavy,’ he whispered to — “ dis must be de Sunday-school milk and honey, shuah.” “Its fit for St. Patrick!” enthuasiastically returned Mike, “TJ tell yer what, it is betther to be born lucky than rich.’ Pete, though, hesitated about sitting down. He was doubtful whether colored aristocracy would be appreciated. Miss Ruth quickly assured him. , “Take thy chair,” she said; ‘‘a black skin often covers a white heart.” From that moment the little darkey would have died for the prim Quakeress, Bad boy as he was, he was sensitive to a kindness, We will leave the lads putting in their fine work at the good old Quaker bachelor’s table, and turn back to the alderman and Mr. Moses Levi. The latter gentleman and Mr. Mulready had, as you will recollect, or if you don’t recollect, why this para- graph willsort ofjog up your memory, gone to the police judge’s house toget him to come down to the station-house and release the alderman. In this they were successful. The judge, a good-natured gentleman, and warm friend of Mr. Mulready’s, was, by lucky fate, at home, and readily consented to their request. “Pll fix it correct,” he said, after hearing their ees as he placed on his hat and coat, “Come along,” The trio proceeded to the police court, where they were greeted by the sergeant. ** Fetch up the old Prodigal Son till I pronounce sentence,’ laughed the judge. . Asndden idea.occurred to Mr. Leyi. “Scare him,” he said. ‘We vill get owit anf de yay for a drifle vhile.» Dell him dot he vos got to go to. brison for life, hard labor at eating Philadelphia grackers.”” § The idea pleased Mr. Mulready. “It won't be a bad fake,’’ he said. “Work the snap, judge.” The judge said he would. “Ill raise his hair,” he uttered; ‘‘but you boys must hide.’’ “Behind my desk,” put in the sergeant. up; I’ve sent a man after the victim.” Mulready and Levi got behind the desk just in time, for scarcely were they secluded before up came the alderman in the custody of a policeman, He was a nice-looking alderman. He would haye made a suitable representative for Hunter’s Point. His eyes were blacked and his mouth was swelled. “ Hurry The alderman bowed his head, “J will acknowledge that Iwas dhrunk,” he said, “but nota bit] wur disorderly. Faix, what was it I done that could be consthrued as disorderly ?”” ‘“ Were you not with a friend ?”” ““Yes,”* ‘*Did you not attempt to carry off a dummy?! “It was a case ay mistaken identity.” “What was?’ “The dummy.” ‘a re oe did Ned Lesa: ge et “The object av me adelphia pilgrim ” “ What object ?”” eas ‘Me nephew by marriage, Mulligan’s Boy.’ “T know nothing about that. Facts prove that you He had the nose-bleed, and it was'trickling sweetly | stole the dummy from the front of a clothing house.” ——— ie AN Ox ™ In the heat of their argument, they did not notice four or five trucks backing rapidly down upon them. There were repeated cries of ‘ Get out of the way,” but they were deaf to them, down over his shirt and coat, and vest and pants, He was almost sober, however, for he had slept off a good deal of the juice of the grape which he had so rashly imbibed, and he fairly realized his position, He looked around as he was brought to the front as if asking why he was called upon to appear. The face of the judge, stern upon purpose, did not tend to reassure him. “What am I here for?’ he faintly asked. The judge fairly crushed him with the stern gaze which he fixed upon him. “What are you here for?’ he repeated, know where you are?” It took the alderman several minutes to realize where he really was, At last he caught it. “ Philadelphia,’ he said. “Correct,’”? answered the judge. you here?” The alderman confessed. :* Afther two sons av the ould Nick,’ he said. “Did you expect to find them in the station-house ?” The alderman somewhat unsteadily stated that he did, In.fact, he would not be surprised to find them any where. They were capable of being found at any place or all over, and he entered into a rambling dis- sertation regarding the general depravity of Mulli- gan’s Boy and Pete. . He was checked by the judge. “Who you are after does not at all interest me,” said the dispenser of justice. ‘I deal only with you. Are’you aware with what you are charged?” The alderman was not. At least he said he was not. “Then T will tell you,’? the judge informed, while “Do you “Now, why are Mr. Muiready and Levi, behind .the sergeant’s desk, found it hard to restrain their risibilities, ‘ You are charged with being drunk and disorderly.” ‘Tis thrne.’? “You carried him to the edge of the curb-stone.”” “Thruer yet.” “You had an accomplice f”? “T did.” “And @ cab?” ‘Levi chartered it.” 2 “You tried to put the dummy into the cab?” “T belave so,” “Youn had nearly succeeded when the man who owned the dummy arrived.” “YT think it.” y “He asked why you were acting so, and you politely told him that you were perfectly willing—nay, anxious —to sprinkle the street with him.’ The alderman owned that he had stated as much. “And if the sucker had not given me a foul grip. | would have done it,?? continued he. ‘Tt is seldom do ye foind a native av New York downed in Philadelphia.” “Well, we'll down you now,” the judge replied. “Do you know what I will do with you?” “ What??? Lae “Pronounce sentence. Five years at hard labor.” The alderman was paralyzed. “ Bive years !? he echoed, “Ye can’t do it. only be five dollars on Manhattan Island.” “Makes no difference,” was the judicial answer; “five years 17 i The alderman felt as if he wontd faint. “Yon are hot aware av me identity? desperately he said. “Who are you?” ““omMowd.”” “what O'Dowd?” “ Alderman O'Dowd.” “From New York ?”” be 6s! “That settles it.” Itwua
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. 41 “* Settles what?’ “T gave you five years?” “Ye did, bad cess to ye.’” re Well, if [had known it, I would have given you iy.” “Known what?! “That you were a New York alderman. However, T, as a police judge, can remedy my mistake, to a par- tial extent. I will have a ball and chain placed upon yon, and put you at hard labor on the roads building causeways.” The alderman protested, “Yeson av a monkey-wrench,” said he, “‘ if ever ye are caught in New York it will be Doomsday wid ye. Ye will be kilt on signt, for there is not a freight- handler in the city who is not controlled by the wave ay me fingher.”’ The judge could keep up the farce no longer. His chad of the ludicrous was getting the upper hand of him, “O'Dowd, old man,” said he, struggling to repress the smile which for a long while had been coming to his lips, ‘Vl let you offeasy. Place you under bail to keep the peace for five months. Boys, come out and go his surety.’ Mulready and Levi, glad enongh to escape from their cramped quarters under the sergeant’s desk, appeared as ifby magic. fok ; If ever there was a surprised individual it was O'Dowd. He could not tell what to make of it. k “ Pioi—tioi for yez loives!”’ was his first utterance, ** Vat for?” serenely asked Levi. “This is Philadelphia, It is entombed for loife ye will be if ye tarry.” Mr. Levi showed no signs of fear. On the contrary, he looked very tranquil. “Vichy again,” he said; ‘‘vasn’t I varn you apoud id? Shudge, I vill be responsible for him.” : “You've got a bigger task upon your hands than I'd like to have,” laughed the judge, ‘but I guess it will be all right.’ ‘Play it straight every time,’’ sententiously corrob- orated Mulready, ‘‘ for it is sure to call the turn.” Then he introduced the judge to the alderman, and explained the state of affairs. O'Dowd owned up to the corn, but no wine followed. Not even Rhine wine. The alderman was no hog, and he had got all of the almagan stimulant {that he desired for at least one ay. Escorted by Mr. Levi, the alderman was taken back to his hotel to fix up, They started, and ran even for about twenty rods. It was decided that the thing he mostly desired was @ good supper; after that a good sleep. : He had the first. Also the second. It was nearly noon before he awoke from the last. When he did, and had succeeded in Shaking olf his drowsiness sufficient to arise and set about dressing, always a weary task to a half-sleepy man, there came a knock at his door. He opened it. There stood a hall-boy. In his hand the hall-boy bore a tray, Upon it was a letter. The letter was directed to the alderman. Taking it from the boy, and dismissing him, the al- derman opened it, the boys started to clear it. It.read as follows, no locality or date being affixed: “ALDERMAN Patrick O’Down. *____. Hotel, Philadelphia, “DEAR StR:—The bodies of two boys, your nephew Michael, also a colored lad, supposed to be in your em- ploy, or to have been, will arrive at the Pennsylvania R. R. Depot to-morrow night. They were accidentally killed at Pittsburg. We suppose you will bear all ex- penses. Documents found in theif clothes proved their identity, also your address, “ Respectfully yours, “THOS. COLLINS & Co.’! PART XXII. THE alderman trembled like a leaf at the receipt of this letter. ‘ He read it over carefully two or three times before he could seem to fully realize its contents, for the let- ters seemed all blnrred and indistinct. But at last he did decipher it. He called to Mr. Levi. “Vot vos id?’ complacently asked Mr. Levi, who was attitudinizing for the benefit ofa pretty servant girl across the way; ‘‘ifid vosn’t noddings important, don’t bother me, I vos gota mash. J shoost saw her vink mit her baragol at me.” The alderman gave a groan. “Levi—Levi, support me or I will fall,” he ex- claimed. Levi knew by his tone of voice that it wassomething serious. He rushed to O’Dowd’s aid at once. “Will you nefer get ofer the effects auf dat vichy?” he cried. ‘‘’S’elep me Moses, don’t faint; it vould be a grazy shame to sbread yourself ofer the floor in dot suit, De gloth must be vorth four tollars a yard.” Then a fence presented itself. . Using their whips and yelling at the top of their voices, Whether it was Mr. Levi’s words, or returning pres- ne of mind, at any rate Mr. O’Dowd recovered him- self, *'They’re dead!’ he uttered. “Who 2? “Can’t ye guess ?”” ‘**Mulligan’s Poy und Pete.” *Yes.?” Mr, Levi made a move to leave, “You vos sure dot dey vos deceased f”* ; eg alderman, without speaking, handed him the etter, Mr. Levi read it. * Dot seddles id,” he remarked. a minute,” » Where are ye going ?”” “J vill pe pack in “To de toy-sdore. Auf I don’t puy all auf der fire- works and Chinese landerns dot der vos py der sdore I vosn’ta spieler. De poys vos dead—we haf der piggest sort auf a Four.h py Shuly that efer yoke up a corpse.”? “The biggest Fourth av July,” groaned the alder- man. “Shure, ye can use them to celebrate a suicide, It is go down to the Mint, cast mesilf into the mold, and be melted up in pennies that I will.’’ Mr, Levi looked at him in unfeigned surprise. aa You don’t mean to say dot you vos sorry,”’ he ““-Yeg.? “Vos you so fond auf dem?” “Not mesilf, but—but——” “Vote “Cordelia,” Mr. Levi understood. . He grasped the alderman’s hand in deep sym- pathy. “Prace up!” he said; ‘let us take a mock-dall. Dere vos noddings vot puts mbre gourage into a man den a goek-dail. I knows how ityos meinselef. Dere when I vos refused by Repecca Cohen, for awhile I felt as if 1 could pury meinself to the chin owit at Goney Island flats und let the waves roll ofer me. In- stead I dook a gock dail, filled meinselef glear up mit dem. Vot vos der result? In a yew hours 1 nefer felt so happy mitout my life, und vos arresded for kicking ofer all der ash-barrels py der plock und ad- dempting to killa grippled soldier py his organ.’ Mr. Levi’s eloquence persuaded the alderman to ae- cept the invitation, Two séductive glasses of the well-known mixture did make the down-hearted O’Dowd feel better. “We must not take another, though,” he said, “ for we have a painful duty to perform; we must hie our-
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42 MULLIGAN’S. BOY. selves to the Pinnsylvania Railroad depot and saycure the bodies av the byes.’” A carriage was called, and entering it they were driven down to the freighi depot. It was occupied, as usual, by a perfect litter of freight, boxes, bundles, bags, barrels, cases ofall sorts of goods, trunks, yalises, and the Lord knows what else in the shape of transportable merchandise. Halfa hundred men were actively engaged forward- ing and receiving it, wheeling it hither and thither upon freight trucks. The alderman and Mr, Levi hesitated at what was best to do amidst this busy scene. At length the alderman approached an Italian who was piling up a lot of soap-boxes. “Me frind,” he said, tapping the man, “have ye heard anything about a pair ay stiffs?’ The Italian looked surprised. ‘“Whatta?? asked he. * Are ye acquainted wid the locality av a couple av byes——” “Vid yooden ofergoats on,’ put in Mr.-Levi. The Italian looked completely broke up. “Noa meana,” he helplessly said. ‘Go away, Aska somebody else.’? ~ ae. He went back to his work, ahd the pair felt that it was useless to brace him again. _ “Bedad, it-wur a cowld day for the worruld whin the Flood subsided from Italy,’’ spoke the alderman, “ The average Garibaldi has the intelligence ay a Rus- sian ape’? ~ ee. SS oe “Here gomes a nice veller mit a face full auf indelli- gence,’? Mr. Levi said, ‘‘I vill aggost him.’? \ Mr. Levi did so. i =, “Mein tear frendt,’’ he said, ‘‘we are py a search for cold clay. We vant a pox mit two dead kids,” A troubled expression came over the man’s face. He hesitated. ‘ Mr. Levi imagined that it was because he might not haye heard the eee plainly, so,he put it to him again in a more intelligible style. — . The man pointed to his mouth. Then “to both ears, while he gesticulated violently with his fingers. : The alderman and Mr. Levi groaned simultaneously. “Deatl? uttered the alderman, ‘ “ Dumb!’ gasped Mr. Levi. The man nodded, smiled along. Myr. Levi sat down on a barrel. *T nefer vos so sorry pefore, py my life, dot I vosn’t learn the deaf mit dumb language,” he said. “It vould maype haf got. us owit auf this bocket.” _ “As for mesilf,” concurred the alderman, ‘the ac- quisition ay the power ay expressing wan’s power ay spache wid their fingers will be the nixt act av me loife. Bedad, if the march ay civilization continues, insoide ay the nixt decade people will be telling anec- dotes wid their toes.” Just here a burly German came near, with a truck- load of goods. : ; The alderman called out to him, He obediently came. “Do ye worruk here?’ asked O'Dowd. pleasantly, and passed “ “Handle freight?” “Yaw.??_ “ Do in ity? “Nein. You suppose dot I open dot freight? I vos nota fool. Ino want to be arrested.” ‘““Bedad, ye’re roight,” exclaimed the alderman. “Tf the Fool-Killer came around, he wud reach us first. How the divil could they percaive what wur in the boxes widout they were clairvoyants?” “Vell, as for meinselef, I nefer bretended to be a ase jYvebsder. 1 yos got too much vealth to need prains. Meanwhile the German stood yet before them. Levi placed halfof a dollar into his perfectly willing palm. “Now, my gootman,”? he said, ‘dell me vhere we vill find owit apout id.” : The German pointed to a small box-like office, which stood down the dock. — : Outside of it was a sign. “ Freight Office.” r “Deragent he be down dere,” said the German; “he dell you all apout id.” They proceeded to the indicated spot. Inside of the office was a brisk little man checking oif-a freight book. The alderman stated his errand, The brisk little man rapidly ran down a long list of packages awaiting owners. “Yes, there is a package—I said he, ‘Two dollars charges. corpses though,’ ‘Why ?? “How old were the boys?” “About fifteen.” “Individually ?” “Yes,” mean a box—for you,” Didn’t think it was “Then they must have been terrible smail for their age. Pete—Mike, get No. 30031.” Pete and Mike, two brawny freight handlers, soon returned with ‘‘No. 30031,”” ; The box certainly justified the agent’s remark, for it was very small for two bodies. “ Faix, they must have doubled thim up to get thim in,’’ said the alderman. a Mx. Levi offered a second solution of the problem. “ Dey vos meet py der death in a railroad occident,” hesaid. ‘‘Maype der vos only half aufdem left. Dey might be cut in dwo.’”? The alderman looked admiringly at Mr. Levi. “Ye are not lacking in mental capacity afther all,” he said. ‘ Ye havesthruck the roight solution, I be- Jaye, afther all. Bunt Cordelia’s sorrow will be twoice ye know anything about a box wid coffins as bad whin she foinds out that only half ay her nephew has been returned,” “Vell, all I see to do,’ philosophically said Mr. Levi, “tis to blace the box ubon a vehicle und send it to the hotel, Dey vill nefer susbect yot id aind’t. But fust we'll have a gock-dail.” They asked the freight agent along, which invitation he accepted readily. The drinks disposed of, the trio returned to the wharf to see that the box was safely sent upon its way. A heated argument ensued asto which was the best way to send it. : The alderman insisted upon a hearse. Mr. Levi said a hearse was nonsense. Their carriage was awaiting their return outside, and the box could be put upon the box with the driver just as well as not, In the heat oftheir argument, they didnot notice four or five trucks backing rapidly down upon them. There were repeated cries of ‘' Get out of the way,” but they were deaf to them. The first thing that they were aware of they were struck by the trucks and sent sprawling, amidst the jeers of the truckmen. It was a wonder they were not run over. But with their usual luck they wasn’t. They picked themselves up in a daze of doubt as to what had really occurred to them. “Wur it a tidal wave, or did the roof fall in?” questioned O'Dowd. . ‘“ ft must be an earthquake,” replied Mr, Levi, as he picked himself up, ‘*‘ There’ll be more of them if yer don’t keep out of the way,” interrupted’ a freight boss. ‘Can’t yer stand to one side?” » | * But vot vos id??? “ Hit by a couple of trucks, that’s all.’? Shaken up, but not hurt, they retired to the end of the dock. ’ * The collision had taken all of the disputation out of the alderman. He agreed to Mr. Levi’s proposition as to the dis- posal of the box, and so if was deposited upon the front of the carriage under the driver’s seat. — At the hotel there was considerable talk why they desired such a bulky wooden package to be carried up to their room instead of leaving it down in the hall. Mr, Levi explained it to the porter who carried it up. : “Td vos silfervare vot I pought for the yedding auf a. gousin anf mein, und I vant to keeb it py mein own eye. ¥ F The porter was satisfied. He put the. box down upon the room floor, remarking after he had left: , y ‘* Dot vos der happy results mitignorance, Auf dot man vos. Known dot he was garrying up a gouple auf corpses he vould haf had a fit.” Mr. Levi Seeing that the door was locked and secured, the | alderman and Mr, Levi took chairs. Both of them fixed their eyes upon the box. Neither spoke for several minutes. Then Mr. Levi gave a shudder. “Dis vos sort auf nerve-shaking,” said he. “I must haf a gockdail, und [ dink it vould be a goot idea '| for the vaiter to pring up dree abiece. We will drink dem py indervals,”? = O*’Dowd owned that he was in favor of the sustain- ing fluid, so six were ordered. The first two nerved them. ‘ : The second two caused them to grow pathetic and sorrowful, . They sat in somber silence, their very cigars going out for lack of puffing. The alderman, after fully halfan hour had passed, was the first to speak. ; “ Afther all, Mike,” said he, “ wur not a bad bye at heart.” ** No,’? assented Mr. Levi. “ He had good ways.” ‘* Yes.?? ‘His teeth wur always clane.”” ‘“ Dot vos so.’? : ““ He niver swore.’? “ Hardly never.” “He had good ideas.’? “Sblendid! Dot yun auftyinga cat to a biece auf i bape ledding it down upon folks’ headts vos great. “We wur honest.’? a“ Ye p “Charitable,” “I guesses dot-vosso. I remember dot he used to pet elery pad cent he could get to put in plind men’s ats. “He wur religious, too. There was not a Sunday- school picnic In the whole ward that he missed. Faix, I’m sorry, afther all, he’s dead.’* So was Mr. Levi. Mr. Levi, who had got one cocktail ahead of the al- derman, actually wept. and declared that he wished he was dead himself in Mike’s stead. This exhibition of feeling so overpowered O’Dowd that the tears began to trickle down his cheeks. “Oh, whirra, whirra !’? exclaimed the impulsive poli- tician; ‘if he wur backin flesh and blood—and he had such a splendid hand for a bar-keeper, too. It wud cover the mouth av a tin pail wid ease. He had a roseate fature.” “ And the darkey—he vos fair for a coon,”’ said Mr, Levi. ails sribate to Pete set the alderman’s tears flowing taster. ; “He wur a great coon,” he said—‘ the foinest ever I knew.” “ He’s dead, too,”’ sobbed Mr. Levi. ‘Yes, bad cess to mesilf. Poor Pete’! well do I rec- ollect the Jast toime I kicked him down-stairs for put- ting liquid glue in me hair-restorer. Faix, it froze me hair together fora wake. Ye cud break it off in frag- ments like icicles.’’ - “But he vosn’t mean pad.” “Bedad, no. *fwere his boyish glee,’’ “ He could plack poots goot ?? “TLoike a fairy. Ye cud see yez faceinthim. Fre- quently, whin I wur in spots where glasses wur a mys- tery, have I tuk aff wan boot and tied me cravat by its reflection.” “He vos villing, too." “Ye bet”? “T send him ubon an errand vonce, mit fifteen cents to puy a neck-die.” “He wint ?”? “Shoost as fast as nefer vos. He coom pack inside auf five minutes, und said dot the neck-die sdore vos failed, und dot he had lost the fifteen cents. Und he pica away so fast that I vos not aple to give him a re- ward, This narration of Pete’s goodness so affected the alderman that he was forced to engulf his last cocktail. ‘ oy mixture put a horrid, ghoulish idea into his ead. ““Levi,’’ he sald, in a hoarse yoice, ‘I have a propo- rae ae ge to ye.” ’ ‘Votr" i ““Ye are @ man ay “T vos.” “Tron nerve ?”? : “Gast-sdeel, auf requisite.” nerve.’? “Ye will no ink 7?” “ Vorrantedot to,”” “Or falter ?”? ‘* At vot?” The alderman, with a pale face, bent over and at Mr. Levi by the shoulders until Mr. Levi winced. ; The awful look upon the alderman’s face, the glare of his eyes, affrighted Mr, Levi. ‘He tried to move his chair away. “It might be der yams,’ he uneasily reflected to himself. , } “Listen,” hissed the alderman, “‘I have a fell ‘It ismeschame to—to——” 4 faltered. ; “Vot?” queried Levi. “Open—open.’? —~ “Open vot?’? ‘*The box.” Mr. Levi looked aghast. His hair fairly stood up on end, ‘““Vot—yvot you vants.to oben der pox for ?’’ he stam- meredout, =. “To Ink at the bodies with tears.” Mr. Levi tried to dissuade him, He might as well have tried to argue with a mule, The alderman insisted. He would open the box even if he was forced to add Mr. Levi to its contents when he shut it up again. He rang for a hammer and a chisel, and getting them, placed the point of the chisel beneath the lid of the box and began operations. Mr. Levi retreated, To the farthest part of the room. “Tyon’t be a barty to any such pizness,’? comment- ed he; ‘id vos sheost as pad as grave robbery.”’ The alderman made no reply. tal a was upon his work. bodies, I wants to deluge their p ; The lid of the box was of stout wood, and it seemed as if the product ofa whole nail factory had been ex- pended in fustening it down. , The alderman sweated over his work. Fee poured down from his forehead, Dp Yet there was but little progress. Only a small piece of the lid came off, It afforded a glimpse of the interior. Mr. Levi, whose curiosity had proved stronger than his fears, crept forward. He peered eagerly over O’Dow@’s shoulder. All he could see of the box!s inside was a leather covering of some sort. Rip! Rip! Steadily worked the alderman. He did not pause a minute. Mr. Levi at last assisted. Be helps tear away at the lid. p! ‘ Jt was a final one, and Mr. Levi nearly fell on his back as the lid came off, The first thing that they saw was the rubber over- coating. covering what appeared to be a shapeles mass of something. Even the alderman paused before taking off the rubber protector, for he dreaded the awful sight which he was sure lurked beneath it. As for Mr. Levi, he wouldn’t have lifted that cover for halfa thousand dollars, Finally, summoning all of his cock-tail-inspired courage, he began to tear away the rubber, while Levi turned to one side. The sound of the rubber as it was slowly taken up smote Mr. Levi's ear. Something else smote his ears, too, soon. It was the finest, most elaborate burst of profanity ever heard outside of a hatter’s shop. And it was in the alderman’s voice, too. “ Mr, Levi wheeled quickly about. What a sight met his eyes ! There was the alderman dancing madly about, fairly tearing his head. Specimens of the choicest Billingsgate flowed in a stream from his lips. Amongst the torrent of unhallowed eloquence could
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L Noasinge orgs the names of Mulligan’s Boy and ‘ete, “Votvos id? vot vos id?” asked Mr. Levi. It was some time before the alderman let up enough to tell. in the ‘box!’ he finally exclaimed—“ luk in a] “Luk the box ! Mr. Levi obeyed. He staggered back. Never had he such a surprise. No mahgled corpses, no ghastly relics of departed youth were visible. Instead a huge mass of bricks, rags, hay, old rocks, pebbles, rotten apples, and a most confused mixture of all sorts of rubbish was to be seen. On top of all was a card, Printed on it, evidently with a marking-brush, was the legend: “SoLp AGAIN ! ‘ - “ Mulligan’s Boy. and Pete.” “Do ye comprehend it?’ bawled the alderman; ‘“*twere a piece of deviltry widout a parallel. It wur a put-up job av the young convicts. They are alive and well, and did it all to paralyze me wid fear.” “And yust dink auf all der emotion dot we wasted ofer dem,’ sorrowfully said Mr. Levi; “dot vos all dead loss.’* Y @ ‘At the remembrance of how they had capped up Be Mike and Pete the alderman grew more furious. “ Pmotion,’? he calied out, “1’ll emotion thim. the sowl av the piper who played before St. Bridgit, I'll kill thim for sure.”” . Mr. Levi, however, did not take the affair to heart as much as O'Dowd, - After consideration he thonght it was a good joke. . “Dey vos schmart poys,”” he said. “171 make thim smart,’’ frantically cried the alder- man, tearing the card apart; and flinging it about the “But it yos funny.” “What?” > ' ; “Dot we misdake a lot auf oldt drash for two corpses.”? He picked up a stone, and slung it, with all his force, atthehen, ‘ “te The stone did not hit the biped, but, dancing lightly by her, sprang over a fence and into ‘a couple of cu- cumber frames. t 5 The sound of smashing glass attested the fact that it had evidently done a good deal of damage. , Pete looked aghast. J * Golly! dah goes all ob my fust week’s wages,” he exclaimed, ‘‘ but de League ob Death nebber forgives.” He toek out his memorandum-book and the stubby lead-pencil. . a Wetting the point of the pencil with his tongue, he gravely put down a couple of words, “What are ye at, now?’ questioned Mike, Fie Putting her down.” J “Who? : “De hen,” ““ Where ?”” “ On de archieves.”” * Archieves ay what?’ a “Destruction. She am der one after de next to die. { dat I could kill her wid de hoe now, if I wanted for to do so, but de victims hab to be squelched in numerical ordah. Dénext on de list am dat debble ob an engineer dat rode us so fast.” So saying, Pete put his note-book away, and the boys resumed their tour of the farm. ey found lots of things which interested them. There were the bee-hives, for example, which Mullt- gan’s Boy tried to stir up to see the bees come ont. They did come out to hissad experience. His face looked worse than Pete’s when the bees got through welcoming him. : Next they went to the stock-yard, for Mr. Blackridge was quite a cattle raiser. As they peered over the fence, Pete gave vent to a whistle of surprise. “What is it?” asked Mike. Look.” “ Where ?”? “ See dat post.’” ““What post?” “De white post?” “Yes.” * See dat cow by it?” ‘“Yes—there are two cows.’” oy we red am de one dat 1 refer to, Mulligan’s Boy obeyed. He saw what had caused Pete’s ejaculation. There, seated upon a three-legged stool, vigorously pulling liquid streams of the lacteal fluid into a tin pail, sat a saucy-looking little mulatto girl. As she milked away, and the creamy milk rose steadily towards the top of the pail, she sang in reg- ular plantation style: “ Dem golden slippers am a laid away; Chilen, chil’en, come, follow me; No mo’ in de cane-brake will we play; Halle! halle! halle! hallelujah!’? / Pete saw his chance, In @ rich voice he carroled forth: ‘© Oh, dem golden slippers! Oh. dem golden slippers! Golden slippers must I wear Fo’ to climb dem golden stair!” The first singer, who had not noticed the boys at all, nearly fell off of her stool in surprise. “Lawd A’mighty!’ cried she. ‘ Who dat—wha’am dat voice?” grating face over the fence, Look undah Pete put his black, “Hello, Claral’’ said he. She started. ““Who is youse ?”’ asked she. “Who is youse?” asked Pete, “Who ye spect?” *“Gibitup. Am youse alive?” This question seemed to rile the ebonized milkmaid. “Wha? for you call me Clara?” interrogated she. “Jes? you bear it in youse mind dat my name ain't Clara. It’s Mariah Chloe Hannah Jackson, sah, and don’t youse forget it.” Pete appeared to be mentally overcome. “Does youse keep it in an album? he asked, * Keep what?” “De name. Ki! de name-bag must have been chuck full when youse took youse grab, I come late, fo’ I only got one name.” “Wha’s dat??? * Pete,?? She sniffed contemptuously. “Dats de name dat de marster done gib to de Gninea-pig,” said she. “Who is youse, anyway? Wha‘ youse come from? Wha’s youse gwine? Wha’ youse round "bout heah fo’, anyway?’ Pete, who had made up his mind to ed with the young colored ‘fairy, explained. He told the story of their meeting with the Quaker farmer, and how they had been accepted as members of his household. She was interested right away. “Tse sort ob glad dat youse come, tho’ you is buta cheap sugar cullud pusson,’? spoke she; “it wuz jess as lonely as a possum hunt wid no possum at de house. Behave yousef, an’ I will be a fren’ to youse bofe. D’se got a pow*ful pull wid Miss Ruth; some . I spect dat she will adopt me.”? — ete did not answer, if ea His eyes were fastened upon her nimble fingers as they extracted the streams of milk from the cow's téata ‘ Cicmra res fs . 2 es = edi Pete was suddenly possessed.ofa longing, It was a longing to try and milk the cow himself- The a he thought of it edna By and by he broached the su t. ! ’ He went at it, tough, in a round-about sort of way. ** Am it hard to milk?’ asked he, Miss Maria Hannah Chloe Jackson shook he head. _ “Hard? No; dat is, if youse got ’nuff sense fo’ to know how to do it.” inet) fife : Her remark further accelerated Pete’s desires, — ‘ane made up his mind to milk that cow, or perish in e attempt. : Roney - “ Chile,’ said he, with as soft and gentle voice as he could assume, ‘jess lemme get a hold ob dat cow. Youse bet dat I secure ’nuff milk for a whole dairy outer ob her.’? ; ete Miss Maria Hannah Chloe Jackson smiled as if she did not believe that his words were real truth. “ Kin youse milk?’ she queried. — , Pete, it will have to be confessed, lied. He boldly said that he could, whereas, if the truth be known, it was about the third cow that he had ever sven; and as for milking—well, he was just about as much experienced in od uses hing. Yet he stontly protested to the young*ebon lady that as a milker his equal was seldom to be met. “Jess lemme squat myself on dat stool,’ said he, ‘an’ I'll gib youse all ob de fancy touches in milkin: Ki ! Ise’ll bet dat I gets a quart wha’ youse will extr cate agallon.? — | o Miss Maria laughed at Pete’s unintentional change of words, and said that he was probably correct. “Wantah milk?’ asked she. Pete owned that he did. re “Tse a cream jerker from de word gol” stated he. “* Jess youse make yousef absent from dat stool, and Ise wil show youse de proper way ob engineering the cow. Miss Jackson obeyed. ; She got off of the stool, and retired to a fence nea’ by to criticise Pete’s actions. With an easy grace’she seated herself upon the fence and proceeded to watch Pete. Pete clambered between the rails of the fence and took possession of the stool. Meantime the cow stood at parade rest. She did not seem to care who milked her as long as she was not required to move. To stand still, not moying a muscle, but simply breathing, appeared to be her ideal of her duty. There was an expressiun of glee upon Pete's face as he sat down and prepared for work. “Jess youse bet dat IT corrals de cake,’? expressed he. ‘“Bress youse soul, Ise’ll get a whole milk route out ob dat cow inside ob filye minutes.” With the above remark Pete started to verify his words, The cow actually was a nice cow. Under ordinary circumstances, or ordinary hand- ling, she would not have manifested a symptom of disapproval. But Pete was just about as well caculated to milk a cow as a hod-carrier would be to run a vineyard. . The cow’at first stood it, She protested, to be sure, by moving her head, and ee her tail nervously, but still she acted real sensibly. There is a limit, however, to all endurance. The cow realized it after Pete had endeayored, for about ten minutes, to milk her, She was not naturally a cross cow—really her repu- tation for mildness was one of the best—but no matter how mildness may be, occasionally periods may occur when, owing to provocation, mildness may seem mad- n O88. ‘ So the cow, after enduring Pete’s usage for a while, considered it. Without warning, 2, except a vicious switel of her oa ee elevated her hind fee. : '
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44, MULLIGAN’S BOY. Bang ! ““Gwine up to de house?’ he inquired of the dusky PART XXIV. Bung! damsel, who had gathered her milk-paiis, for the one Away went Pete, milk-pall and stool. The stool was shattered, the milk-pail was broken, but Pete, of the three, fared the worst. The cow’s hoof hit him square in the gastronomical zone, and lifted him right up into the air. There was only one mud-puddle present in the barn- yard, and that was in a quiet, remote location. Yet the cow succeeded, by sheer force of hoof, in landing Pete into it. He descended with a splash, and was so surprised that for a while he did not have the slightest idea-of how he got there. He staggered on to his feet in a sort of daze. “* Wuz—wuz youse hurt?’ he asked of Mike jt strike anywheres else ?”” “ Did which Pete had tackled was the last of a whole herd. She said she was, and Pete gallantly assumed gpetiianslip of the pails, while she walked by his side. Mulligan’s Boy discreetly followed on behind. “Begob, if Pete desoires to catch a mash onto the caramel-colored daisy, ’tis not mesilf who will ob- struct his intentions,” he said to himself. Pete and his tady friend walked together as far as the garden-gate, when the figure of Miss Ruth, who was clipping at some flower-stems, caused them to separate very suddenly. Miss Kuth did not appear to notice the part- ing, for when Pete, who had lagged belind. reached he1, shé very solemnly introduced him to Mass Maria, They took the leap together. “ What are ye talking about ?’’ queried Mike. “The lightning.” “What lightning?” “Dat L wuz struck wid,” Mulligan Boy winked sweetly. “The loightning that laid ye out lurksin a cow’s hoof,” said he. ‘ Bedad, if | wur in yer place it is burn incense for yez escape,I wud. If there had been a little more power in the bovine’s sinews, itis over the fince wud ye have flown, and into the grapery.’’ Miss Maria Hannah Chloe Jackson also consoled Pete. From her private box upon the highest rail of the barn-yard fence, she had beheld the whole proceeding, and it appeared to please her. At least, judging from visual evidence, for her whole face was convulsed with smiles. “Youse am a nice cow-milker,’’ she jeered. ‘“’F I wuz youse I would go dig taters. Nice milker, ain’t youse? Tink dat cow am made outen injy-rubber? Best ting dat youse kin do is to go get a shingle and comb de dirt off ob youse.” Pete did not answer. There seemed all of the past hour or two thaf ques- tions had been put to him to which silence was the best response. ‘ “ Guess dat ll go to bed,” he growled—“ feel tired.” Miss Marie Hannah Chloe Jackson gave vent to a ery of triumph which sounded like the crow of a vic- torious rooster. “Some coons am smart, some ain’t,’’ she said; ‘* but I won’t gib youse away to Miss Ruth. Doan’t youse mention "bout de milking, an’ Ise won’t.”’ Pete promised. He realized that it was for his own interest to have the milking attempt shrouded, if possible, in Stygian darkness, and he took solemn oath never to reveal it. “ Ag thee will both work in the culinary department, I hope thee will be good friends,” she said. Both glanced demurely at each other. “se willing,’ uttered Maria. “Me too,” said Pete. , So a treaty of peace was struck up, which ended— well, wait till the story ends, and you will find out how it did end. That night the boys slept together in a cozy little room, which was all a boy’s heart could wish for, There was an old rusty gun, which could not have gone off under any conditions, bracketed up against the wall, a picture of a whale-ship being destroyed, a highly-colored print of the Battie of Bunker Hill. and a book-sheif, whose only contents were a couple of Captain Marryat’s novels, There they slept; and slept good, too, while they lived good, also. Mulligan’s Boy was put to work at plowing, while Pete was under Miss Ruth’s beck and call, If so chanced that Mulligan’s Boy plowed with two different horses—on and off. One was called Ned, the other Jim. To Ned was Mike fondly attached; while Jim he did not deem worth his salt, Pete entertained a contrary opinion. He considered Jim the greater horse of the two; while Ned, in his opinion, was not fit for crows’ feed. So it came about that one twilight, after work, the boys decided to settle their differences relative to the two horses; they decided upon a race. It took place, and it was no easy race. It was about one mile over fences and hedges. They started, anc ran even for about twenty rods. Then a fence presented itself, Using their whips and yelling at the top of their voices, the boys started to clear it. THE fence was rapidly approached by the two eager boys mounted upon the two farm horses. Somehow the old plugs appeared to partially enter into the spirit of their riders. They went for the fence as if they had been brought up on the turf as regular steeple chasers, “Me wake’s wages that 1 bate ye! excitedly called ont Mike, as he kicked his steed’s sides with the heels of his heavy boots. Pete’s response came quickly. “Jl beat, or dah will be black meat spread all ober de fleld,”? was his answer. At the fence they went. ‘“@langt!? “© Git up !" Crash! Orash! Their fore-legs went over the fence all right, but the hind ones struck the top rail, The rail broke, and the horses, with their riders, fell upon the other side in a confused mass. Be ae ‘Make a moighty lape I’? “* Rise, youse debble |” ** Lift yesulf 1’? So the ejaculations followed each other in quick succession. The horses rose in the air, Poor brutes! They meant well enough, but as the Mohammedans Say, whatis to be will be. And it was to be that the two ambitious animals would not clear that fence, which was really quite a tall one, and a barrier which many an experienced rid- er would hesitate for awhile before tackling, They took the leap together. Crash! Crash! Their fore-legs went over the fence all right, but the hind ones struck the top rail. The rail broke, and the horses, with their riders, fell upon the other side in a confused mass, Pete and Mulligan’s Boy were thrown from their backs fully five feet ahead, which was a very lucky thing, as the brutes might have rolled over upon them and crushed them with their weight. They were partially stunned, but not hurt by the fall, for the sod upon which they had fallen was soft and yielding. Pete was first up. He rubbed his eyes, scratched his wool, and looked about him in a dazed sort of way. 1 Golly! I feel as if I had felled outer a cloud,” solile- quized he. “’Spect dat 1 must hab fell upon my head, fo’ I hab ’scaped wid my life. De nex’ hoss dat I ride will be a hobby-hoss. Wondah how Mike am.” He looked about for his friend, He soon perceived hini.
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. Mike lay with a very white face upturned toward the ~ partially upon one side, breathing heavily. e appeared to be unconscious. Pete approached him. ba! oe he’s a goner, shuah,” uttered he; “ dis yeah ohile hab smoked his last cigarette; dead as I’se born. Dah’ll be annuder culled angel in Heben by dis time to-morrow, and dah will be one mo’ yuse-harp took offen de rack. ’Spose, tho’, dat I ought fo’ to try and resursincate him." “Resuscitate” was what Pete really meant, but it was a big word, and Pete was very apt to get very muck mixed over a big word. Pete’s only idea of resuscitation was that method employed in the case of drowning people—a roll over a barrel—which has at least one thing to recommend it surely; if it don’t save the person to whom it is ap- plied, it will kill them sure. He looked around for a barrel. But all of the barrels which might at any period have been there were certainly not there now. Not even a stave was in sight. “ Fraid dat I will hab fo’ to let him squeak,”” mourn- at! said he; “dah isn’t so much as a beer-keg in de vicinity.” As he spoke his eyes fastened themselves upon a, brass watch-chain which crossed Mike’s breast, and served as a safe-guard to a brassier watch. “Poor fellow,” Pete sadly remarked, ‘‘he won’t need dat super an’ slang long. Wha’a pity he didn’t have nuff time to makea will, kase I would hab been left those articles shuah. Now I speck dat de coroner will collar onto dem.’’ Peter reflected upon it. Meanwhile he perceived a pack of cigarettes stick- ing owt of Mulligan Boy’s vest pocket. “Dey’s no ‘count to him now,” muttered Pete, as he sorrowfully embezzled the cigarettes. ’ Lighting one, he resumed his ponder over the affair of watch and chain. By and by he came to @ re- solve. “T know dat Mike would nebber forgib me if I should let dat coroner get possession of dem,” re- flected he.. “De only resource dat I hab is to take dem myse’f.”’ Convincing himself thus, that he was about to per- form a solemn service for the dead, he bent over and took hold of the glittering chaff. He unbuttoned the bar, and slowly drew the watch out of the pocket. ; He had just got the very valuable time-piece (about eight dollars a dozen) in sight, when—— The supposed dying youth arose to a sitting post- ure, and ed one of his fists with great precision, and @ good deal of energy, upon Pete’s nose. Pete dropped watch and chain, and turned a suc- cessful but not particularly graceful somersault. ath Lawd almitey,” called he, “he’s done come to Mulligan’s Boy smiled in acquiscence. “ye ken gamble yez head upon it, ye calico-col- ored thafe,” he said. “Ye wud thry to become a corpse-robber, wud ye? I have a good moind to paint yez red wid yez own loile blood, ‘Tis me opin- ion that stale the doorplate off ay a coffin, or pennies out av a blind man’s hat wud ye.” Pete, rubbing his nose, which was not much hurt in appearance, for a blow from a pile driver would not have made it flatter than it was, humbly apolo- gized, assigning to Mike the same reasons for snatch- ing : to the watch and chain which we have already stated. ; Of course Mulligan’s Boy took the taffy for all it was worth. ‘Ye lol and ye know it,” said he, “but I pardhon ye offense, for it runs in yez family blood. Faix, 1 have yez pedigree dewn to a hair’s breadth. Where is yez grandfather?” Pete hesitated. He hung down his head and fumbled with a button of lis ceat, while his feet seemed to be a new and surprising revelation to him, for he kept his eyes steadily glued upon those extensive members. ‘‘He’s alibe,”? finally he acknowledged, in a low 0 ne. “Yes, but where is he?” “In de jail,” was reluctantly wrung from Pete. ‘What for?” “Stealing a barrel ob taters.’” “ Where’s yez grandmother?” “Tn de jail.’ “What for?” “Stealing a dress,” ‘““Where’s yez uncle?” “Tn de jail.” “What for ?”? “ Stealing a bar’l of flour.’? “ And yez father?” ‘“ He is in de jug too.” “ Por what??? : “ Dey foun’ some chickens dat dey said didn’t b’long to him upon his pusson. Fader said dat de chickens had put ap a job fo’ to ruin his karacter, but de judges dey wuz all Irish, an’ dey wouldn’t b’lieve him.” “Their bhrains were massive. How many brothers have ye?”? “Pwo.” ‘““ Where's the first?” ““In de jail.” “The rayson.”? “Stole an ulster.” ““ Where’s the second ?”” Pete for the first time looked u There was a gleam of triumph ‘* He’s dead,” said he. ane Mulligan's Boy was merciless in his interroga- 8. “How did he die? asked he. Pete’s eyes fell again, a his eyes. ‘Got shot,”’ said he. “Where ?”” “Inde war.” ‘Whereabouts in the war?!” ‘In a melon-patch.” “What wur he at there?’ Pete fairly howled the answer— ‘Stealin’ melons |’? Then did a mild smile of triumph appear upon Mike’s face and gradually irradiate from the corners of his mouth to the roots of his hair, until it blossomed into a full-dedged grin of mirth. *Yez frank reploies exonerate ye from blame,” he said, ‘“ Bedad, from the kleptomaniac blood which flows in yez domestic circle, ’tis me conjecthure that any wan av yez family wud lie awake at noight for a a8 to funk up a plan to stale thimselves. They wud——” “Where's de hosses?!’ interrupted Pete, who evi- dently desired to turn the conversation, Mike started. He had forgotten all about the horses whatsoever. For all he knew, they might be dead or seriously in- jured, Then what would Mr. Blackridge say? They would receive a real enjoyable welcome when they got back to the homestead. The horses, however, were only bruised, and had got upon thelr feet. : One was a little lame, and so Mike did not do much work with him that afternoon; indeed, afier a furrow or 80, he put the horses up under the shade of a tree, and lolling upon the broad of his back, began to take life comfortably, Pete having retired in a hurry, par- tially conscience-stricken, for he recollected a not yet fulfilled appointment with Hannah Maria Chloe Jack- gon, to assist her in picking berries in the garden. As Mulligan’s Boy reposed, looking up at the fleecy clouds which scurried across the blue dome over his head, and contentedly thinking as the old song says, ‘about nothink at all,’’ he felt a hand pressed upon his shoulder. He sprang up in a second. There was the old Quaker himself. “Lad,” said he, “why are thee not at thy work 7?” Mike’s answer came readily. “Horse lame.” “Which one??? “Ted, sir,” “ Blackridge went up to the one spoken of. “Which leg?’ he asked. “Off hind one,” returned Mulligan’s enh The Quaker picked up the limb indicated. “Tt ds certainly bruised,’ said he, “how was it done??? “ Acvident, sir.” “What kind?” “Stepped in a hole.” The Quaker fixed his keen eye upon the Hibernian Ananias, “My son,’’ he said, ‘‘ what is the use. of thee Wing? I saw your race myself at a distance. Lying is the meanest crime that a boy can——’’ He checked himself. “| will defer my reproof till a later period,” he broke off; ‘‘ there are two gentlemen at the house who were asking if I had seen anything of two runaways. I bid them tarry for a while, till 1 went in search of you and the colored boy.” Mike’s heart leaped into his throat. Two gentle- men! One must surely be the alderman; a detective, he argued, the second, He did not, though give himself away. “All right, sir,’ he answered. ‘T will take the horses up to the stable, wash up, and come to see them, Where are they ?”’ “Tn the front yard, Thee make speed.’ * All right.” ‘ The Quakerswalked back while Mulligan’s Boy led the horses up by another way. He placed them in the stable. Then he sped hurriedly across the yard to the garden. There were sounds of a personal encounter in the berry-bushes, and, peering over the fence, Mulligan’s Boy was aware that Miss Hannah Chloe Maria Jackson had Pete’s head under one arm, in that position known to lovers of pugilism as ‘being in chancery,” and was dealing divers effective blows with one hand upon his head, while with the fingers of the other she was combing his face. “Call me ‘coon,’ will youse!” she exclaimed, wrath- fully. “I jess want yonse fo’ to know dat I ain’t no coon. Ise s’ciety, youse foul, low nigger: Ise ba Vahginny straight-cut, and don’t youse fo’get t.? “Coon! coon!’ gamely persisted Pete, in half-stran- gulated accents. ‘ Oh, coon!” His answer was a fresh shower ot blows upon his head, which had about as much effect as a shower of peas against the side of a schooner. Mulligan’s Boy was not at all surprised at the scene, for Pete and Miss Jackson, albeit the firmest of friends on the whole, were addicted to these little scrapping Matches at least once or twice a day. Generally he took pleasure in watching them and egging the contestants on, but this particular one he did not desire should continue. ** Quit it !? he called. Hearing his voice, they separated, Ha went on he, “we’ve got to skylark. the place. Pete’s eyes stood out like soup-plates with surprise. “Wha? fo ?? “He's come,”” _ * Who??? “Oan’t ye guess 2” “The Alderman ?? “ Oorrect.”” “De Lawd sabe us. “Round front.” Wha? are dey ?”? 4E — ——— ‘“ Wid de marster {’* “Yes, He came down afther me, somebody else ayith him.” “Fly copper??? “Reckon 80.7? “Den we will hab fo’ to skedaddle right lively. Kain’t go back to de house.” “ But we’ve got some clothes there.’? Pete fixed a winning pene upon Miss Jackson, who stood by, open-mouthedly taking in all of the above conversation, “Miss Jackson,” said he, with exaggeratcd gal- lantry, “‘ youse will take keer ob our garments fo’ us, won’t youse? Hide dem keerfully away till we return, and dah am a memento ob me.”* He took a gaudy ring, flre-gilt, with a pearl which Must have been worth at least three cents, from his Snes, 5 and placed it upon hers, with the chivalry of a yard. a rag overcome, Miss Jackson consented to de as id, Her curiosity was however aroused, “Wha? youse got fo’ to go fo’?? she asked. Peté told her in as few words as possible, for he ot od could be trusted. Then he kissed her very gallantly. “ Ise Ai write youse a lettah to-morrow, chile,” said he, “I will—~” : “Hurry up,” impatiently said Mike. ‘“ We have no toime to lose, I see the ould cock coming now.’ Sure enough, through the interyening trees and shrubbery could be descried the alderman, while swinging a gold-headed cane followed Mr. Levl, who of course was not known to the boys, or if he was they failed to recognize him. Their course was soon decided upon. It was embraced in the one simple word uttered by Mike—“ Git.” ns They got. : Over, not the garden wall, but over the the or- pire | they fled adown the lane which led to garden chard, At the foot of the orchard was a small creek, upon the bank of which lay a skiff with a-paddle in it. Getting in the skiff, Mike grabbed the paddle, and wielding it desperately, they w ere all soon across. It so had happened that Mr, Levi had noticed them speeding across the orchard. Instantly it occurred to him, that there was their quarry. ~ : “Alderman,” he cried, grasping his companion, “look at id)? “Look at-what ?* asked the alderman, who, while waiting for Mr. Blackridge, who had not yet arrived, Mad op eee viewing the beauties of nature. “* At dem.” The alderman understood Mr. Levi's finger to be pointed at a pair of big apple-trees. ‘i “Yes,"’ said he, ‘they are very foine. Their very magnitude impresses wan, not to spake of the fruit which they probably bear. The foliage also——” Mr. Levi swore profanely,' ‘____ the abble drees |’! said he. the poys.”’ e What byes??? “Mulligan’s Poy und Pete.” “Where ?? S “ Running down dat pank.”” ‘ The alderman caught a glimpse of them at last. “ Be Heavens, ’tis them |" ejaculated he. ‘We have thracked them to the earth at last.’? Breaking out into a run, he and Levi sped as if they meant to lower the record, ‘ They arrived, hot and excited and all out of breath, upon the bank, just as the boys landed upon the other. ont. ye rascals !” shouted the alderman, ‘I've got ye . To his surprise, the news did not seem to affect the boys atall, ~ > hey stood and grinned at their pursuers, “ Hello, uncle!’? blandy said Mulligan’s Boy; “ what are you doing here?’ * Yell soon foind out.” “Whin ‘“Whin I jail yer" “Whin will that be 9? ‘CAs soon as I lay me fists on ye.” “Thin we'll live to be bald-headed. Ye will niver get us to-noight, or to-morrow noight, or years ay noights.”’ : “Dat’s so,” grinned Pete; “how is youse gwine fo’ to cross the creek ?”” The query staggered the pursuers. For once did they realize the truth of the old adage: “So near, yet so far.”” How was they to get across that creek? Neither could Swim. Search the creek with their eyes as far as their sight of vision extended, not a bridge or other boat beside the skiff could be discerned. “Ifl wur ye I wud tear the bark off av an apple- tree and build a canoe," jeeringly cried Mike; ‘or ye cud make a raft out ay wan av yer shoes,” The alderman fairly frothed at the mouth with im- potent rage Mr. Levi also exhibited signs of anger. The boys noticed it. “Hey, uncle! called out Mike, “what's that ye have wid ye?” “Shut up!” roared the alderman. “T don’t know.” blandly returned Mike, ‘‘ whether itis a tailor’s dummy ora picture out av a panorama ofan Indian scalp dance. Anyway, ifI wur ye, I wud puwit in the creek. I don’t believe that it will keep fresh out av the wather. ’ 2 re Mr, Levi was intensely insulted at these insinua- ons. But he forced a smile, “Yoost you vellers vait,’’ he said, in a voice of sweetness; ‘‘der Prophets was always chuck der in- Me uncle has “Vat Imeans vas
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46 MULLIGAN'’S BOY. fluence mid der side of der Hebrews. He vas laugh der loudest vat laughs on der end. Vait ayhile, my tear poys, und ve vill see vhether I vas ought to be put py der vater to keep der greek vresh.”” PART XXV. Mr. LEVI and the alderman, it is needless to say, were two very enraged gentlemen, At that minute the prospect of the two lads being hung, drawn or quartered by somebody, would have been hailed by them with geat delight. indeed they would haye doubtlessly paid a hand- some sum for the privilege of doing it themselves, The boys, though feeling themselves safe upon the opposite side of the creek, did not care a cent how mad they got. : They kept on teasing them until the alderman got as wild as a dog with a tin-can riveted to his tail. He put his hand into his hip pocket. He withdrew it again. It was empty. A how! of disappointment ssned from his lips. “Be Heavens, ’tis fatality!’ he called eut, ‘Me he led: is absent. Shure | must have left it upon the reau at the hotel. Lrecollect that.I wur cracking nuts wid its handle, and by the same token it wint otf, and the bullet smashed the clock. Literally, the clock wur knocked out av toime. Levi, have ye a foire-arm ?” Mr. Levi, after feeling in all ofhis pockets, and care- fully looking into his hat, stated that hehad not, _‘“All aufdem veppons vatI vos got vos a bocket- knife, und dot vasn’t aple to hurt anypody. I don’t think,”? continued Mr. Levi, ‘‘dot you could make a sgratch uboen a blate of putter py dot knife. I found it py der sdreed, und I garry it fur goot luck.” “ Bedad, 1 wish it wur a harpoon,” said the alder- man. “Ifit only wur I would launch it across the ereek wid fatal skill. Ifit did not transfix me nephew at the first pop ye could spit in me eye,” é The boys were preparing to go. “Tra Ja, uncle,’ bawled Mulligan’s Boy. ‘Kiss aunty for me.” ; “So long, Moses,’”’ Pete bawled at Mr. Levi. ‘Nex’ time dat youse get took wid de rest ob de curiosities sen’ me your picture, Ise want to paste it on my sore heel fo’ to see if it won’t take de inflammation out.” These polite farewells were acknowledged by their recipients by wild fist-shakings. Malligan’s Boy smiled serenely. “Keep it up,” called he. ‘* Who’s workin’ ob de wires?” cried Pete. .“ Pull the strings faster.” “Don’t it make youse tired?” “Are ye obliged to do it?” “Ts a revival, and dey’ye got de Spirit.” “ Or the itch?” ““Mebbe it am fleas?” So the boys uttered to the great indignation of the object of their utterance. “Oh, if I cud only rache the other side,” the alder- man wailed, ‘itis tears av blood wud I whring from yee eyes. Itis put down the proice ay mixed dhrinks foive cints wud Lin me whisky chateau, if I cud be- hould ye girating from a gallows.” ‘“T vasn’t don’t dake sdock py hangings,” Mr. Levi objected, “ dey vould uxpire too gwickly. I vould like to see dem drove into a gwicksand, a nice slow ‘wicksand dat vould dake a vick or so to swallow em ub. S’elep me Moshes, mit all auf my vealth, I vos not. aple to puy a gwicksand. Dey grow vild.” ‘ Aiulligans Boy and Pete, with a few fierce taunts, e: Soon they were out of sight amidst a clump of trees at the opposite side of the meadow. The alderman and Mr, Levi sat down disconsolately upon the creek’s bank. “Mr. Levi,” confided the alderman, as he took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow, “I wur born upon @ Friday, and haye been in bad luck iver sinse. The very day av me exit into the world, me fatner got bloind insensate dhrunk in honor ay the occasion, and attempted to roide a trick mule at a traveling circus. The result wur, he wur brought home in periods, and breathed his last wid a rayquest that I be baptoized in whisky. Me ill-luck has since pursued me. I niver raised rosesin me gardhen, be- cause I wur afraid that if I wur to thry and pluck thim, they wud turn to onions. Luk at me luck now. There wur those two juvenile imps separated from us by but a few feet av wather, and yet, for all practical raysults, the Atlantic Ocean moight have rowled be- twane us.”? Mr. Levi nodded his head. “Dot vos so,” he replied, ‘und we didn’t efen hafa lasso. Vell, we mustn’t gif ub. We will keeb on py der search,”” Just then Mr, Blackridge appeared, : “ Didst thou see the boys?” asked he, in his quaint way of speaking. “Yis,” groaned the alderman, ‘“ Were they the ones 2” “They wur.’? ““ Where are they?” “Tin thousand moiles away furalll know. Ye will niver see thim again.” A shade of gloom passed over the Quaker’s brow. “They seemed good youths; justa trifle wild, but I pardoned that, for boys will be boys,” said he; ‘the white lad appeared to be very smart.” The alderman groaned again. ““Smart,’? said he; “faix, ye plump the bull’s-eye whin ye say that, Ye do not want to go to bed at all if ye want to bate him rising up early in the morning. It is give points to a Greek could that same lad,” Then the alderman went on, and gave to the good ae naka tie account of the fleeing and pursuit of YB. “Not only have they cost me toime, but also money,’’ concluded he. ‘‘There wur a sucker of 4 lawyer in Philadelphia who persuaded me to inter suits for damages against Barnum’s circus and the museum man. What wur the raysult?’? “You vos licked und sduck for the tamages,’’ sweetly said Mr. Levi. “‘ It vos a pad sheculation,” “It wur not the damages, but the costs,’’? corrected the alderman, “but they wur awful. I saycretly belave that I have paid the expinses ay all the Penn- sylvania coorts for the rist ay their legal loives.” The Quaker shrugged his shoulders. “Of a verity it is too bad,’ said he; ‘‘dost thou mean to pursue them farther ?”’ The alderman’s eyes flashed fire. He brought his fist down with great emphasis. “ Will I pursue them?” he repeated, ““willl? Will a cat lap milk, will a fish swim, will a turkey-cock go foraredrag? Ye bet that I will follow them around the world and through the center av the earth if necessary.” Mr. Levi concurred. “T vos mit you allerwile,” said he; ‘‘ we vill gatch der poys or berish like Arctic survivors!” The alderman warmly grasped Mr. Levi’s hand. “Ye are a noble dog,” said he; ‘‘ ye have adhered to me loike a fly to a jug av molasses, and I will not for- tit. When our quest is over and we grab the kids tis take ye back to New York will I, and make ye a representative in the Legislature. All ye nade do to get yez election, is put up the dhrinks for the byes and wear a grane neck-tie.” Mr. Levi was profoundly grateful. =“ Bolitical life vas peen my hobby a long vhile,” said he, “ und J vill be thankful for your advice in der mad- der. Vhere ve go now ?’? om Thee takes supper with me,’ put in Mr. Black- ridge. At first they refused. The alderman said that he did not mean to take ad- vantage of any one’s hospitality. They had simply stopped there to see if they could find the runaways, and because they had found them it was no reason that they should encroach upon Mr. Blackridge. But the Quaker stood firm, In the end, not only did they take supper, but they stayed all night, leaving the next morning with many expressions of good will, Mike and Pete, meanwhile, got upon the railroad track, and, walking for several miles, reached a small village—well, we will call it Eatonville. They did not have a fear of instant pursuit, and, be- ing fairly supplied with money, put up at the best—and only—hotel in the village. They slept sound as tops, and did not wake up till about nine o’clock.. Going down-stairs, they found out by careless ques- ee that no inquiries had as yet been made after em. They ate a good breakfast—they were never left upon eating—and after that took a stroll around the village, a work of not much difficulty, for you could see the whole place in about a quarter of an hour, and walk slow at that. , They stopped and talked with several of the residents, and found out that the most exciting topic of interest just then was a robbery which had been committed at the house of one Squire Sellick, a very prominent member of the village. ‘Must be city thieves,” said their informant, a burly country fellow. ‘Tell you what, we are watching Sireeers mighty hard! You ain’t well dressed enough to be burglars.” “Are burglars always well dressed?" asked Mulli- gan’s Boy. The country fellow opened wide his eyes with sur- prise at the question. “Of course,’ he answered. ‘Didn't I read in ‘ Bur- glar Bildad, the Boy Cracksman,’ that Burglar Bildad allers wore at least a thousand dollars’ worth of dia- monds, and dressed in a blue velvet coat, with red lace pants? Wore kid gloves, too.” Mulligan’s Boy determined to give the rustic all of the taffy he wanted. His obiect was only to pass away time; but he little knew what would be the panning out of it. It often happens that the most unexpected results follow a trivial beginning. ““Yes,’? said Mike, with the air of a Solomon, * bur- glars, come to think of it, are well dressed. Faith, I knew a burglar wanst who was worth three million dollars, and nivir wint out in society widout eight watches. He had gould soles upon his shoes, too, and niver wore the same dicer twice.” “The same what ?? “Dicer.?? “What's that??? “ Sixer.” “What's a sixer?? “A Kady.” The country fellow looked bewildered. His educa- toe - metropofitan slang had been obviously neg- ected. “Dicer! sixer! kady !? repeated he, “‘ what are they?” “ What’s.that ye have upon your head ?” asked Mul- ligan’s Boy. % A hat.?? “Well, that’s it.” “That's what?’ “ A dicer, or asixer, ora Kady. called in New York.” “Yuse fellows from York?” *8'Yes,’? “Both of you?” ow Yes.” That's what it is ‘Lived there long ?”” “ Always.” “ Gotany acquaintances?” “The city swarms wid ’em.” ‘** Know any burglars ?’’ Mike said he did. Immediately he launched ont into an elaboratetissue of lies relative to his acquaintauce with burglars, “ You see l amin the saycref police, employed as a b’yespy,” said he. ‘So, necessarily me cognizance ay burglars is very copious. Did ye iver hear av Clammy-Toed Charley ?”’ 7 “No. .Who'was he?” “A celebrated burglar. ‘He intered into six banks and a grave-yard in wan noight. 1 arrested him.” “You did?” “ Yes.” ‘“* How ?? “] thracked him by manes ava monument which he dhropped in his floight. Arrah, but it was he who wur a howly terror. He——” : Mike's veracious narrative was interrupted by a touch on the arm from Pete. ‘“‘ Cheese.it !’’ whispered Pete, in alarmed accents. “What for?” s “ Dey’re coming.’’ “Who ? “Who yonse ’spects? De alderman and dat side partnah ob his’n.”” ““ Where ?”” ‘ 3 “Look down de street.” Mike obeyed eee Sure enough, there, quite a ways away, but still near ein to be recognizable, were the alderman and Mr, evi. It was evident from the direction in which they were walking that they would pass Mulligan’s Boy and Pete, who were seated upon the fence conversing with the country lad. The boys did not dare get off of the fence, becanse if they did, and started up the street, they could readily be discovered. Butif they remained upon the fence, they would be discovered anyway. : What would they do? ka Mulligan’s Boy was first to think of a plan of escape. “See !” said he, suddenly, to the country lad, ‘ Where ?? “Up the strate. What do ye behowld ?" ’ ‘Two men.’? “Know them ?” “No.” “I do.” “Who be they ?”” “Ye said there wur a burglary committed last noight?”* “Yes? : *“T’ll bet I can reveal to ye who did it,”’ “ Who?” “Those two men approaching.” The country lad nearly fell off of the fence. : “You don’t mean to say they are burglars?’ he asked. “Yes”? said Mulligan’s Boy; “their names are Jimmy the Turk and Shivering ike. Hide me quick somewhere, for] don’t want them to catch soight ay me. I may be able to arrist them,” , The field which the fence bordered was planted with corn, which was five or six feet high, and grew- ing in rows very close together, “* Hide in the corn,” advised the country ber. The runaways were quick to accept his advice. Down they went upon their hands and knees amidst the corn, Presently the alderman and Mr, Levi came by, puff- ing away at their cigars, The country lad stared with eyes stuck ont like lob- sters at them. They were both flashily dressed, their diamonds blazed in the sun, while Mr. Levi, “s usual, wasa walking cart-load of jewelry. The lad made up hismind they must be burglars sure. Mr. Levi’s appearance, especially, was almost identical with that of Bildad the Burglar. To his consternation the alderman stopped and spoke to. him. 5 ‘‘Me rural youth?” he patronizingly asked, ‘‘do ye reside here ??? “Yes, sir,” came the reply. “ Have ye been around here this morning?’ foe sir. Been all through the village serving of milk.” : “Ah, ha, thin ye have good facilities for obserya- tion. Have ye noticed two byes?” “What kind, sir?” “A naygurand a white boy—just about yez size and - hoight.”’ Tt flashed across the lad’s mind that he was being questioned regarding the two young strangers whom he had just hidden in the corn-lield. He resolved not to betray them, “ Hain’t seen but one boy to-day,’’ he answered. “Who wurhe? Astranger?” “Yes,” “ How wur he dressed ?”” “Did one of the boys you are looking for have on a gray snit?”? The alderman really could not haye told ifMike had on a gray suit, or a yellow suit, or a red, white and blue suit. but he answered at a yenture: Ty “ Black hat?” “Yjo”? “ Sorter tight pants?” Sig? “ Heavy shoes ?” “Guess s0."? “ Freckled face ?”” ““Yis The freckles crowd each other for room ?”” “ Big mouth?” * Alligator size.”? “Turn-up nose??? bean Tell me where is he ?? The lad put ona look of loutish cunning.
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. 47 “ Hain’t seen a boy like that,’ grinned he. ‘ The boy I saw was an Italian boy, and he had a monkey with him.” The alderman felt mad enough to knock the speak- er off of the fence. “Why the divil didn’t ye say so at first ?? he say- agely asked, ‘‘instead of kaping us here wid idle words.” “What did you ax me quesfions for?” leered the lad. ‘Ax me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.” With a prayer—we will be.charitable, and credit the alderman witha prayer anyway, although it might have been the reverse—the two passed on, Mr. Levi remarking: ‘‘ Dot poy vos either very dumb or very smart; auften the tifference vos very small.” The lad watched till they were out of sight. Then he called to the hidden ones. “All right,” said he. : Mulligan’s Boy and Pete climbed up with rather dirty hands, and the knees of their pants also showed familiarity with the soil. “Well?” asked Mike. mie boy related his dialogue with the alderman and Mr. Levi. - ‘*Mebbe they are smart, but I can be just as smart,” said he; “I fooled the men.” “So ye did,” said Mike; ‘(now I tell ye what to do. Ye have a constable or sheriff here ?”’ “A sheriff lives right up the road atthe red house.” “Good. Go to him, tell him what I have tould ye in reference to the characther av the two men who just passed, and say that Detective Michael Mulligan, av New York, will confer wid him any place he says within two hours. I have important business to thransact wid other parthies.” So speaking, Mulligan’s Boy and Pete swaggered offin the opposite direction from that taken by the alderman. : : The country lad felt his bosom dilate with pride. Here he was in a position such as he had read about in story papers, and also nearly akin to a situation in the story of ‘‘ Bildad, the Burglar,” There were the boy spies, ; There also were the gay and flashy burglars. ee there was also himself, empowered to seek the sheriff. ; He went at once to that potent official. _ The sheriff of Eatonville was a true type of the aver- age County official §. , * : He was large. He was fleshy. And his ideas‘of his own greatness were upon a par with his largeness and fieshiness, He heard the lad’s story with secret satisfaction. Here was just the chance tor which hé had been long wishing. : . What a feather it would be in his cap for him to cap- ture the pair of New York burglars, and put them away in a dungeon cell! “They will confer with me in an hour?” he said, in reference to the statement made by Mulligan’s Boy. “Yes, sir,?? humbly said the country lad. j The sherift mused. What actually was the use of his sharing the laurels with the city men? Why not take the whole glory of the business to himself? ; The last idea captivateti him. He resolved to carry it out. 7. ‘fo he, and he alone, would be the glory of the capture. With a seeming carelessness he asked of his inform- ant: ‘“Where did they go?” ““Who ??? “Phe Yorkers.”? i “The spies ?’” “Yes.?? “Up the road.” “You do not know where?” 7 No. ” ‘Were they upon the scent of the burglars?” ‘How do you know?” ‘* They went a different way.’ “The burglars, then, went down?” “Yes”? “Towards the hotel?” You,” " ““ While the others went directly opposite ?”* “They did.” The sheriff, who. had been pacing his stoop while the above dialogue was going on, stopped and turned to the lad. “Did they name any definite place where they might See you again?’ he queried. “No, sir,’ “Then yey. they will see you where they first met you. You’d better go there and wait for them.” ‘The boy unsuspectingly agreed, and started back, The sheriff waited till he was out of sight, then he or- dered up his buggy and horse. Getting into the vehicle, he drove by a rather round- about way to the hotel. The alderman and Mr. Levi were there. with their ——— When he reached them his hand fell heavily upon each of their shoulders. ‘Jimmy the Turk, and Shivering Ike,” quoth he, “T arrest you.” They started up. Instantly the sheriffs hands traversed rapidly from their persons to his own. The next minute a revolver was leveled at their heads. “Surrender,” said the sheriff, “or I shoot!” The alderman looked up helplessly. He felt sort of dazed. “What do ye mane, man?’ he asked, as he shiver- ingly recoiled from the leveled revolver; “are ye a lunatic?” “Not much!” answered the sheriff. Iam doing. So did you.” ‘Wohin ?” > “Tast night.’”’ “What did I do?” ““You don’t know ?”” * Ay coorse I do. 1 wur at Mr. Blackridge’s.” “You were?” ‘OY is.? “The Quaker farmer up the creek ?”” *Yise? ; : The sheriff smiled a smile of supercility. “Qh, yes, he said, ‘‘you were both there. Cer- tainly you were! In my eye! You didn’t rob the squire’s house?” z The alderman gazed upon the sheriff as if he had been a copper-toed Esquimau, or some other abnor- mal production of humanity. __ “Me rob!’? exclaimed he; ‘niverin me loife did I rob anybody, excipt it wur a legal thafe upon the city sanctioned by the Board av Alderman,” “Dot vos so,” Mr. Levi put in; “we yasn’t don’t know any skevire.*’ , f “That’s all right,’ sneered the sheriff, ‘* we will see about it later. Just come over with me to the justice’s office. There was no alternative but to obey. Guarded by the sheriff, escorted by all of the idlers about, to whom their arrest was a rare treat, they babe marshaled to the office of therural dispenser of justice. . As for Mulligan’s Boy and Pete, while the above events were ensuing, they had gone to the depot, where they had the pleasant sensation of beholding a train just moving out. . A consultation with the time-table revealed the fact that another train would not leave for an hour. it was tough. it might result in their capture, butall that they could do was to wait. % That they did, — After a dreary sixty minutes the train came along. They were pufling away at the ever-present cigarette, and as there was no smoking-car upon the train, they got upon the platform of the last car. Just as the train started, there was a ery of ‘ Hold ” - “I Know what mn. Mulligan’s Boy and Pete looked eagerly. There, tearing down the platform in hot pursuit of the moving cars, were the alderman and Mr. Levi, PART XXVi. AS we stated at the close of our last installment, both the alderman and Mr. Levi sped down the plat- an in pursuit of the train upon which were the two ads. The boys felt safe. They knew by the rate of speed at which the train was moving that they couid not well be caught up to. They jeered at their pursuers. *“Go it, uncle!” “Run, hook-nose!’? ‘* What's the proize?’’ “Ts ita belt or a bun??? “ Bet the alderman beats!” “Pll go onthe eclothing-store dummy. Luk at the spider legs av him.” ** But de aldahman got de best bottom.’’ “ Regular cup-horse.”? Meanwhile they held out their hands and beckoned for their pursuers. 4 The loungers about the depot took in the situation, and they bawled too. * Sling your shoes!” * Yow ll catch ’em!’? “Two to one on the cars.” *“ Phere’s a barrel in your way. Look out!’? “Run in the middle of the track!’ “There you go, cully!” The last remark was addressed to Mr. Levi, who did go, There was a box of freighf in the way, and over it he went, sprawling upon the platform, to the great delight of the spectators. Slowly he picked himself up, and dolefully rubbed his knees, upon which he had fallen principally. ““S’elp me Isaac,” he uttered, ‘‘dot shows dot I vos got no peezness for to run. I nefer vos a runner, any- vay. Valking vos all auf der oxercise I vos fitted for. Shiminy, I feels as if 1 vos fell off auf a syna- ogne. f feet elevated upon the railing of the piazza, puffing | gog' away at a couple of so-called Hayana cigars, the Zenuineness of which was fully attested by the band (made in New York) which surrounded them. The sheriff drove up and tied his horse to the hitch- ing-post, while a ns of wonder ran through the as- Semblage of idlers who always gather about the coun- try village hotel. : hat could the sheriff want? They doffed their hats and waited to see. } They had not long to wait. The sheriff, armed with all the majesty of the law, a towards the unsuspecting sitters upon the The alderman still kept on. The platform was an unusually long one, and puil- ing and blowing down it went O’Dowd. Oh, but it was a regular peach-festival for Mulligan’s Boy and Pete. ‘ They laughed till the tears rolled down their cheeks, and fairly shrieked with merriment when Mr. Levi took his tumble. They were forgetfal’of the old adage which says that he laughs londest who laughs last. Suddenly Mike’s laughter was checked, He turned pale. “Be Heaven, we’re ruint! *’ exclaimed he. “* How ?” said Pete. “ Don’t ye notice?’ “What? “The cars are stopping.” “Golly, datari a fact. De debbil sabe us now |” Sure enough, the cars were stopping. They were going slower every foot, The alderman was gaining. All at once the cars stopped altogether, and began rapidly backing. Something had occurred which necessitated the return of the train to the station. Muilligan’s Boy and Pete were so paralyzed that they fairly forgot to jump off of the platform, and with a triumphal yell the alderman was upon them. He caught one by each collar, “At last!” cried he, “I have ye safe. Do not make any attimpt at resistance, or 1 will dhrop ye into eternity from the rear ay the car.’’ When the train ceased backing the alderman Ing- ged his charges down upon the platform. He was surrounded by a crowd at once, and be- sieged with questions. “Who are they ??? “What did they do?” ¥ ‘where are you going with ’em ?”" ““Going to lock ’em up??? “Have they been stealing ?” ***Scaped from jail ?”’ Z The alderman returned a general answer. _ " “Me friend, Mr. Levi, will explain to ye the ray- son of this spectacle,” uttered he, while he tightened the hold he possessed upon the boys’ collars until they yelled with pain, 4 Mr. Levi, who had regained his seli-possession from his fall, advanced witha genial air. ; ue “Mein frendts,” he exclaimed, waving his hand comprehensively, as ifto include even the yellow dogs on the outskirts of the crowd amongst his friends; “mein frendts, I vill gif you the broper sdeer py dis occurrence. Dose poys were runavays, und dot vos dere uncle. After leading him a berfect volume auf vild-goose chases he vos finally secured the suckers!"’ Mr. Levi was applauded vigorously. ' He felt pleased. : Eyery one likes to haye his efforts appreciated. ‘Mine frendts,” again he spake, ‘it vos a vhirl- vind aufa day, der dust vas linger in yun’s month. Subbose we all go ofer mit der hotel und haf a gock- dail.” Did ever one see a country crowd that was not Willing to acceptsuch an invitation? Mr. Levi was a great man right off. 4 . Heading the crowd, he led the way to the hotel across'the street. 4 , The alderman hesitated. - ; ; : He felt parched. ; : Some liquid he felt might allay the torridness of his throat. But meanwhile what was he to do with his cap- tives, for he did not feel like bed them along. The station agent seemed to divine his quandary, . i to leave the boys, sir?? asked he, ‘ “Yes,” : “Tell you what I'll do.” “Tell away.” : “Tl lock ’em up in the freight-house for half a doliar.’? “Ts the freight-house safe ?”* vs ““¥es,? ** Any windies?? “No—dark as Egypt.” 4 “Well, I will consint, but, bedad, ye won't get ee thrade-case till ye return the byes in good conditio wid unlacerated bones, and free from bruises,’? The station-agent agreed to the terms. With the assistance of the alderman he pushed the boys into the dark cubby-hole designated as the freight-house. He padlocked the door, and put the key of the pad- lock in his pocket. “They won’t get out in a sweat,’ he said, ‘less they climb out of the knot-holes.” Satisfied, the alderman left. He reached the hotel just as the crowd were stowing away their beverages. “Shoost too late, alderman,” said Mr. Levi; ‘‘we vos finished. You ought to haf peen here some soon- er. Nefer forget dot old saw, ‘id vos derearly dramp - vot hooks der morning’s milk.’ ”” “All roight,” said the alderman, in reply; “there is a rainbow for ivery day that I iver get left. Set thim up again for the coterie.” “Hurray!” excitedly approved the crowd, and another rush was made for the bar. As Mr. Levi raised his favorite “ gock-dail ” to his lips he noticed that the boys were absent. He left it untasted. “Alderman?” he asked of O'Dowd, who was just burying his face in a big milk-punch. “Well?” ““Where dey vos?” “the byes?” OYeas ; The alderman winked, and brushed the lingering rag of the milk-punch from his lips with his coat- _ ‘Levi, ye Red Sea passer,” said he, “it’s mesilf who is noted for me quickness an’ wit in cases av emer- gencies. Do ye recollict the toime at the raffle at Pat- rick Sarsfield’s Germania beer diye?—it wur for a magical clock, which tould the toime ay day, toime av the week, and whether it wud be hot or cowld the nixt day. Well, Felix Lanigan got in a dispute wid me, bekase I threw six aces out av foive dice, Felix always wurakicker, He got me by the throat, and wurabout to slug me wid a beer-glass, whin I called out: ‘Felix, for Heaven’s sake saye yersilf! Yer coat-tails are aflame !’ He turned to do so, whin I up wid a match- safe an’ knocked him whalebone stiff They wur
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48 MULLIGANS BOY. forced to play upon him wid a hose for half an hour before he came to.” “But vot vos dot to do py der poys ?”’ “By inference a grate dale. Ye cannot anticipate their whereabouts.” “Runned avay again ?? “No.” * Snn-sdruck ?”” “ No.’? “*Then vot?” “They wur in a dungeon.” ““A dungeon?!’ “ Yis,”? “Gracious! Vhere yos you find vun? TI vould think dot dungeons vould pe a luxury owit here.” “Tt wur a freight-house cell,’’ MAKES MOSS eet Just as lhe train started, there was a ery of * Hold on.” “In the depot?” “Vis,?? * Safe 2? “Jack Sheppard would have to take a week to get out av it,’’ My. Levi chuckled. He rubbed his hands gleefully. 4 “Dot vos enough for vone more gock-dail,”’ said he; “rouse ub der peverages for de gongregation.” Oh, with what smiling faces did the countrymen re- spond. It was a sortof Millennium for them. Angels did not arrive every day. All the while Muiligan’s Boy and Pete were sitting upon a couple of boxes in the freight-house, which was not a very nice place to spend much of anybody’s e. It was dark. It smelt. Rats occasionally jonrneyed over the floor, and various insects of unknown breeds were around in perfect ease. “Mike.” “ Pete, The two boys spoke together, “ 'Well,?? * Well.” *“Welse in a box..’ “Two in a box.’? “ De aldahman’s got us.’? *“Dead.”? “ We’se caged.”? ““Loike rats.” “ Kain’t get out ?? “T don’t see how.” “No window ?? “Not wan.” * Kain’t kick down de doah ?”? “ Nixy kick.’ ae “Den what'll we do?” “ Surrender.” “ Give in??? “¥is,”? Pete considered. “Guess, after all,” said he, scratching his woolly head, “ dat would be de bestest racket, Dis sawt ob floating ober de country am all right, but Ise ’l! gib youse a pint,” “What?” ‘“’Member what de poick says ?”? “ What poet?” “* Fo’get his name, but I tink dat it waz a niggah.” “Well, what did he say ?!? ““* Midst pleasures and palaces, where’er we’se gwine to roam, (4 ie ! hae) Mulligan’s Boy and Pete looked eagerly. If de trnfe may be gib away, dere’s no place like home |!’ The sentiment seemed to appeal favorably to Mulli- gan’s Boy. “Belave ye are roight, Pete,” he said, ‘I wud kind av like to go back to New York again. es we go quietly wid the old man and the Original Isaacs. If we promise not to escape, I'll bet we'll have a splendid toime on the way home.” ““Kerect, Shake hands,’’ In the darkness the hand-shaking was somewhat of a difficult task, but it was at last accomplished. Finally, the alderman and Mr. Levi arrived. The freight-house door was unlocked. Cautiously was it opened, and the alderman’s voice was heard, “Don’t thry to make a break out,’ he cautioned. “Six men wid clubs stand ready to paralyze ye.”? “We won't, uncle,” meekly said Mike. ‘for .we’re willing to go wid ye. We pledge our words not to escape. We promise it by the oath av the League ay Death. K.” “By,” said Pete, / “N,’? responded Mike. “OQ,” finished Pete. The alderman was aghast with pleasure. “Do ye really mane it?” he asked. ““We swear.” “Then come to me arms. Be heavens, I can now face Cordelia wid impunity and her nephew.” Mr. Levi, too, was happy. He knew ofbut one way of celebrating the occasion. “Lets fillup de poys py gock-dails,’’ proposed he, The alderman vetoed it. t “Never,” said he. ‘They may wallow in root beer, or strangulate themselves wid ginger ale, but no liquor. Ifniver had I touched the fiery fluid mesilf, I i | i) 4 | i) could have viewed a mor e on the Brookt Bridge. tgag yo The boys, however, were not thirsty. They preferred a good square meal to bilge water. So they all went to the hotel again, and a hearty meal was put away. “Unele,”’ said Mike, ‘how did ye iver escape from the arrist av yerselfs as burglars 7” “ Aisy. The judge wur a sinsible man. Did ye put up the job ?”” ““Yes,?? “Well, I forgive ye. press train home,” Seen off by most of the population of Eatonville, they got upon the train. It is toime we catch the ex- til i LEA Il iil i | | | il 4 il | lol . 1 | at : a cc | | a ea ie th) alli He | ii 1 of the moving cars. were the alderman and Mr. Levi. Mr. Levi recognized the conductor as an old ac- quaintance. “Holy Daniel!” cried he; “ voy, vhere did you come from? The last I saw auf you you vas selling gollars und guifs, vosn’t you, eh, Sammy ?? The conductor owned it was so. “But railroading pays better,’ laughed he. ‘No bell-punches on this road, and we ran over the last spotter on our up trip. Come into the baggage-car and have a smoke?” The invitation was wi and all hands adjourn- ed to the baggage-car, where cigars were procured from the train-boys. They settled themselves down upon camp-chairs and UN te to enjoy the fragrant weeds (Pennsylvania avanas), Mulligan’s Boy and Pete kept quiet for a while, but ee teo much for them after half an hour had slid Ye They began nosing around the freight. The conductor slyly kept one eye upon them. : Presently as they drew near to a barrel he nudged evi. ‘Look,’ said he. “Where ?”? asked O'Dowd, ‘At the boys.” “ Why??? “Wait till they get fooling around that barrel—the one upon its sides with a hole cut into the top.” “What's in the barrel?! “ Never mind; wait and see,.”’ Mr. Levi and the alderman kept their eyes flxed upon the boys while pretending to keep up a desultory con- versation, while the boys, unconscious of their scruti- ny, kept fooling around, At last they drew near the barrel, Pete looked into it,
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MULLIGAN’S BOY. It seemed full of water witha dark object bobbing upon the top. _ z Pete’s curiosity was excited. : “ Wondah what dat speck am,’ he said. “Fale and see,”’ said Mike. ; ~ Nothing loath, Pete put down his arm into the barrel. ; : ; The next second he flew up nearly to the top of the ear with a yell like a cow-boy raiding a Mexican vil- 50 dead |? he wailed, as he fell to the floor, wring- g his arm. " ms Vhat's the matther?” called Mulligan’s Boy, fall- ing back. x “De barrel |” “What av it??? vosn’t. Mr. Levi’s curiosity was greatly excited. ‘What's in the barrel ?” he asked. The conductor smiled. “Oh, not much,” said he, “Tell me.?? ““Want to know bad??? ‘“Yes.”? “Then ’ll tell you what to do. “ot,” “ Put you hand in the barrel and find out.” At first Mr. Levi was loath. But insinuations from the conductor and the alder- “Vell, I man aroused his grit. * You dinks dot I'vos askeert,” he uttered. Shust you vatch me.” They said they would. 0 CAN Ne, r 49 It has been computed by the alderman and the con- ductor that Mr. Levi turned at least three expert som- ersaults before reaching the car floor, He felt something after the style of a crumpled-up dish-cloth. i “ Abraham—Isaac—und all auf der brophets 1’? he cried, ‘“‘I-yos a gorpse !?? Aroar of laughter greeted his remark. lt appeared to make him mad. “Howefer wicked i vos,’’ cried he, “nefer yos 1 make sbort auf a dying man.” The conductor came up. ‘“‘You ain’t dead, or won’t be for years,” he said. “ Want to feel in that barrel again?” ‘Feelin dat parrel ! ejaculated Mr. Levi, with a horror-stricken face, ‘* Feelindatparrel! S’elep me | | Hi He 1 La (| ll Hill Ul) 11 * At last!” cried he, ‘'T have ye safe. Do not make any attimpt at resistance, or I will dhrop ye into eternity from the rear av the car.” “De debble’s in it. Jess as soon as I touched dat dark ting I felt as if my arm had bin struck by de lightning.” ‘““What was it?’ “De debble, I done tole you.” Now Mike didn’t believe it. ‘ He did not see why the famed gentleman in black would abdicate his boss position down below to get into a dirty beer barrel filled with stale water. Mike thought he would find out for himself. _ Fie He carelessly placed his arm down into the interior of the barrel. He touched Pete’s ‘ debble.”” - Mike rose farther in the air and beat Pete’s yell all hollow. 4 “Murther milla !” exclaimed he, ‘it is kiltam I to a certainty.” .It was Pete’s turn to grin. He had partially recovered from the shock, and was mournfully rubbing his arm. ““Wha’ did Itole youse?? he exclaimed. ‘ Want- ah fool wif dat barrel.” ; aaupeears Boy sat down upon a beer-keg and fairly ¥Me hand is nambed for loife,” said he. “ Niver again can I make use av it!” : “Larf at me, will youse,” said Pete; ‘serves youse dog-goned right. Now youse know how it am you’self, Mr. Levi swaggered to the barrel. - Mulligan’s Boy and Pete stopped their contortions to watch him, First, however, did he speak tothem. “My tear poys.” asked he, ‘‘ vot vos py dot parrel?”” ““Tnsoide ye mane?” eR.” “Oh, not much.” “But vy vos you act so vild?? “ Had ’em.”” “Vote? “Cramps.” Mr. Levi did not seem to believe him. He turned to Pete. “ Vot vos sdruck you?’ queried he. Pete looked innocently up. “Tt was one ob my usuals,” he answered. “Your usuals?” “ Dat’s what I said.” “Usual vot?’ * Colies.’? Mr. Leyi turned away in disgust and went to the barrel. Truth to tell he was afraid, but he was not going to make it known for fear of being laughed at, and the fear of being laughed at generally makes heroes out 0 cowards. He bared his arm and plunged it into the water. He struck the dark object at the first plunge. [THE END.] Moses, auf you don’t fetch dat parrel right avay owit auf der car I vill sue dot gompany for lipel.’’ “Guess not,” laughed the conductor, what was in that barrel?” “ Fire.” “No, nothing but an eel.’ ““ An eel??? ““Yes.”? “Vos he full auf fire-vorks ?” “Oh, no; he’s just electric, that’s all.” Then the conductor proceeded to explain that the eel was the property of a ten in Allegheny City, who was shipping it to Philadelphia. _ soe The electric eel is a very rare species of its tribe, and yalued very highly. It is capable of giving a shock of electricity equal to that of a powerful battery» And the explanation ended the occurrence. * * * * * * Well, our tale is about closed. Mulligan’s Boy and Pete went home as they prom- ised, and Cordelia did not arrive till the day after their arrival. Their flight was carefully kept secret from her. and she does not know it now. The alderman flourishes, ‘‘ bantam ” as ever, while Mr. Levi still bewails his riches. “TI pelieve dot I would be habbier peddling suspenders instead anf peing a millionaire,” he said not long ago. * Efery- | pody was blay me for a sucker.”? “Know =
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FRANK TOUSEY’S BY-THE-WAY SERIES. Containing five interesting and ane by nie anes pert bes a is handsomely bound in a beautifully- SIXTY-FOUR PAGES OF READING MATTER! EVERY BOOK IS A COMPLETE NUMBER READ THE FOLLOWING TITLES: No. 1. Viola’s Revenge = F = ” Price 10 Cents No. 2. A Year Out of My Life - th: -! Price 10 Cents No. 3. A Captive’s Captive - 7 “ Price 10 Cents No. 4. The Broken Sixpence . * - Price 10 Cents No. 5. Lady Innocence - _ s - Price 10 Cents For sale by all newsdealers in the United States and Canada, or we will send them to you, postage paid, on receipt of the price. "FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, Box 2730. 34 and 36 North Moore Street, N. Y. Popular Songs and Ballads : OF THE EMERALD ISLE. The Grandest Collection of Irish Poems Poems and Songs ever Published, HR — POPULAR EFFUSIONS OF MOORE, T. DAVI T. DAVIS, GRIFFIN, LOVER, MANGAN, WALSH, ‘ ' CALLANAN, BANIM, KICKHAM, DAVIS, GOLDSMITH, LEVER, DUFFY, CASEY, SKETCHES OF THEIR LIVES. The book is beautifully bound,-and should be in the parlor of every family. FO Eh 25 C ALN TS. er wale by all newsdealers, or sent to your address on receipt of price. Addro: FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, Box 2730. 34 and '36 North Moore St., N. Y. ON THE STAGE; or, HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR ; A valuable book for Amateurs, containing all the information desired by beginners in the profession, Also Negro Acts, Irish Acts, Dutch Acts, Dialogues, Speeches, Songs, J oe ete., ote For sale by all newsdealers, or sent from this office n rec eipt of price, fifteen FRANK TOUSEY, ‘Publisher, Box 2730. 34 and 36 North Moore St., N. Y.
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“DENVER DAN” The Most Successful Series of Novels ever issued in this Country, ARE PUBLISHED IN THE Wide Awake Library. Read the following List already published: No. 438. Denver Dan and his Mystic Band. No. 436. Denver Dan and the Road Agents. No. 430. Denver Dan and the Counterfeiters, No. 442. Denver Dan Outwitted. No. 445. Denver Dan the Sheriff. No. 450. Denver Dan’s Peril. No. 455. Denver Dan to the Rescue. No. 464. Denver Dan and his Chums. — No. 483. Denver Dan in New York. No. 540. Denver Dan, JY. No. 5692. Denver Dan, Jr.,and the Renegades. Every number is a complete book in itself, but 2 aol exploits of the hero are published in separate numbers, thus forming an entirely different story in each book. These Pacer stories are written by The ever Popular Author, “NON AME.” Boys, if you want a treat, read the “DENVER DAN” SERIES, now ready. You can obtain any of the above books from your newsdealer, or they will be sent to your address, post- paid, by send- ch, to ing the price, 5 cents ea os FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, Box 2730. Se, ; 34 and 36 North Moore Street N. Y.
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"EEE; James Boys’ Series of Adventures CONTAINED IN THE WIDE AWAKE LIBRARY, By the World-renowned Author, D. W. STEVENS. PRO ee ote: Gl BS . Hyery book complete in itsélf, and full of startling and exciting scenes. Read the following list of the names and numbers of the books already published. For sale by all newsdealers. 440. The Train Robbers, A Stery of the | 490. The James Boys in Mexico. James Boys. 492. The James Boys at Cracker Neck. 457. The James Boys as Guerrillas. 514. The James Boys and Timberlake. 462. The James Boys and the Vigilantes. 521. The James Boys in Court. 466. The James Boys and the Ku Klux. 527. The James Boys’ Cave. 469. The James Boys in California. ' | 581. The James Boys as Bank Robbers. £74, The James Boys as Train Wreckers. | 538. The James Boys’ Brides. 479. The James Boys in Minnesota. 550. The James Boys’ Band. 482. The James Boys as Highwaymen. 571. The James Boys’ Fate. 488. The James Boys’ Longest Chase. Any of the above books are for sale by every newsdealer in the United States and Canada, or they will be seat te your address, pest-paid, on receipt of 5 cents. Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, Box 2730. 34 and 36 North Moore Street, N. Y. THE JAMES BOYS’ STORIES PUBLISHED IN THE Boys of New York Pocket Library. 6. THE LIFE AND DEATH OF JESSE JAMES, By D. W. Stevens. 81. FRANK JAMES THE AVENGER, . By D. W. Stevens. 105. FRANK JAMES’ SURRENDER, .. By D. W. Stevens. For sale by all newsdealers in the United States and Canada, or sent to your address, postage fres, ugoer receipt of price, 5 cents per copy. Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, Box 2730. 34 : and 36 North Moore St., N. Y.
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USEFUL. INSTRUCTIVE, SCIENTIFIC AND AMUSING BOOKS, READ THE FOLLOWING LIST: How to Write in an Album, . 3 ‘i How to Do Second Sight, i = ; How to Play Games, : : A How to Behave, 2 ; ; Z ‘ How to Make Love, 3 3 . How to Write Love Letters, a ‘ How to Do Tricks, % How to Write Letters, . . How to Cook, . How to Entertain an tiventitg Party, How to Become Beautiful, How to Flirt, ‘ js fF How to Become a Ventriloquist, How to Become Rich, How to Dance, . How to Become a Godakan, How to Tell Fortunes, How to Explain Dreams, How to Hunt and Fish, PRICE. 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents i0 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents For sale by all newsdealers, or sent to your address on receipt of price. Address P. 0. Box 2730. How to Keep Birds, How to Keep House, How toDolIt, . eas ae How to Box, 5 i How to Become an Athlete, . 5 ° How to Row, Sail and Build a Boat, How to Keep and Manage aa How to Play Cards, How to Become a Scientist, How to Become an Inventor, . Howto Dress, . How to Become a Magician, Napoleon’s Oraculum and Dream Boo, The Gem Cook Book, No. 1, The Gem Cook Book, No. 2, é Treland’s Struggles for Liberty and tana’ Frank Tousey’s United States Distance Tables, Pocket Companion and Guide, FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, PRICE. 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 10 Cents 34 and 36 North Moore Street, N. Y. OUR COMIC BOOKS. The Bald-Headed Club, Going to the Country, . Red Hot, . A Quiet Fourth of July, Good Templars sa seus On a Jury, ' g My Wife’s Mother, | Dodging a Creditor, Mrs. Snoodles’ Curtain Lectures, : Shorts, é : “ : Smiles, % Where Are You Going ? An Hour’s Fun, A Basket of Funny Things, mae Boarding-House, ash, . se eae A Qure for the Blues, Our Baby, GENS er Be A Box of J okes, ; : Joining the Freemasons, g PRICE, LOK: . 10c. «ww LOC, 10ce. 10c. 10c. 10c. 10c. 10c. 10c. 10c. 10c. . 10e. . 10e, ro: . 10c. t 108; . 10c. - 10c. LOG; Pounds of Fun, rf : i : The Tickler, . i " ; Our Servant Girls, | " acca . Miss Blinker’s Blinds, , Fun fora Dime, . : i; Rib Crackers, Funny Stories by a Funny Fellow, My Birthday, ‘ A SDaghelow’s Love Serapes, Laughing Gas, Uncle Sam’s Joke Book, The Big Joker, The Little Joker, Cold Da va Jokes, I Should Smile, : i i Snow Balls, ‘ r : Chill Blains, . A ‘ Hush! Don’t Tate, “hom, Heads and Tails, : Moonlight Jokes, - Bad ind PRICE 10e. 10c. . 10c. « 106; i AOGs 10c. 10c. 2 10e + ul@ec. oO; SLO; . 10¢. « OG: Pets: | & Yc) 10c. 10c. 10c. vA. 106. 10ce. Every book is handsomely illustrated by the best comic artists, and is a complete book in itself, For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to your acacia’ p°St-paid, on receipt of price. Address P.O. Box 2730. FRANK TOUSEY; Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York.
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The Boys of New York LA BBS Tee DLHAD ALL BOYS’ PAPERS IN THE WORLD, Because it Contains the Best and Most Original STORIES OF TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES IN ALL PARTS OF THE WORLD, GIVING EXPERIENCE IN LOW LIFE AS ‘ ; WELL AS IN THE PALACE. Thrilling, Startling, and Wonderful are the Many Adventures Pictured Out in Our Paper Every Week. OUR ILLUSTRATIONS ARE THE VERY FINEST THAT MONEY CAN PROCURE, AND WILL BEAR COMPARISON WITH ANY WEEKLY PAPER PUBLISHED. We employ only the Best Talent, as the following list of Prominent Authors will attest, who write exclusively for THE BOYS OF NEW YORK. Any statement to the contrary is utterly false. “PETER PAD,’ “ED,” POLICE CAPTAIN HOWARD, GUS WILLIAMS, J. G BRADLEY, G. G SMALL, LIEUT. E. H. KELLOGG, PAUL BRADDON, ALLYN DRAPER, U. S&S, DETECTIVE, ALBERT J. BOOTH, R. T. EMMET, ROBERT MAYNARD, KIT CLYDE, N. ¥. DETECTIVE, GASTON GARNE, Cc. LITTLE, RQBERT * =*NOY CORPORAL MORGAN RATTLER, “ NONAME,” Subscription price for 1883, postage free, for one year, $2.50; for six montbs, $1.25; for three months, 65 cents. For sale by all newsdealers in the United States and Canada, sg SAMPLE COPIES SENT FREE. -@a Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, P. O. Box 2730); 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York. The Young Men of America. THIS SPARKLING JOURNAL FOR YOUNG MEN IS FULL OF INTEREST FROM BEGINNING TO END. Its stories cannot be surpassed, and its authors have a reputation seldormm equaled. Read the fol. lowing array of talent, who write EXCLUSIVELY for this paper: ALEXANDER DOUGLAS (Scotland Yard Detective)--TOM TEASER—H. K. SHACKLEFORD—RALPH MORTON—ALLAN ARNOLD—J. T. BROUGHAM—HAL STANDISH—A. F. HILIL—D. W. STEVENS—TOM FOX (Philadelphia Detective)—-FRANK FORREST—JOHN SHERMAN—HORACE APPLETON—RICHARP R. MONTGOMERY—COL. RALPH FENTON—PERCY B. ST. JOHN—CAPT. GEO. GRANVILLE (U.S.A.)\—ALEXANDER ARMSTRONG— JAMES D. MONTAGUE, and many others, THE YOUNG MEN OF AMERICA For the year 1883 will be sent to your address, post-paid, for $2.50 ; for six months, $1.25; and for three months, 65 cents For sale by all newsdealers, or sent to your address, postage free, on receipt of price. Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, Box 2730. . 34 and 36 North Moore Street, New York.
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THE GREAT 5 CENT WIDE AWAKE LIBRARY The Largest, Cheapest, Handsomest and Most Popular Library in the World. 198 Satan’s Tree 800 Bob Short; or, One of Our Boys— 4 Pe Bae og #8 Schooldeys bd oe ge the Nuns E Duval in the Cloister : a aed ata ie fete ys i Lady , 300 a Lightalue ‘a 301 Percy of the Strong Arm ard uval on Han . 5 Sinhad, the Sailor 106 Claude and the Spy 302 Sanat an i riyr or ae one 6 Peter Siniple 407 Duval in Chains ms One otis Boss oe ee 1 Pantomime Joe 108 Claude's Bride 204 The Mystery of the Red R: pha ey a 8 Snarleyow, the Dog Fiend 109 Duval on the Road 205 The Mash aq M ia ae Se ee Z a one the Wonderful Lamp | 110 Olaude’s Duel ; 208 The prairie Phantom. 301 pean a ‘oor Jac’ 111 Duval and the Maiden 4 Qu 1 Tommy Bounce—comic 113 Claude in the Toils Spoil eiainee Geis pe EE Re 12 Shorty ; ¢.3, Kicked into Sood Luck | 11$’Duval and the Casket 209 Harry Halsey af he eae —comic 114 Claude and His Chum 210 Donnell @Gig ant The & hi poe 18 The Devil's Diamond 115 Duval in Peril 211 The Burglars of New York 312 The Go lade! ea u4 ore in Luok— comic ae Sea get 212 Jerry O’Keefe’s Crimes 313 Among the cel ick Dauatless uke 213 Dare Devil D Satine 16 Skinny, the Tin Peddier—comic 118 Death of Claude Duval 214 Game to the Death 315 Restmener ont Lond ¥7 Dick Turpin 119 Jack Harkaway and His Son’s Ad- | 215 Kickapoo Jack. 316 Harold F aa oe 18 Guiliver’s Travels ventures Around the World 216 The Struggle for a Mine ’ 317 Moto? the Mist” 19 Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves 120 Harkaway and His Son Homeward | 217 Stump—comic 318 Eveline Duk : 20 The Mulcahy Twins—comie Bound 218 Stump at School—comie * 319 Mark Bradl 21 Jacdb Faithful 121 Jack Rushton 219 Stump atSea—comic 320 Driven to Sea 22 Oliver ¢ pilo’s Engineer Stories on bo iy Hes ue Stage 220 Stump and Jack Hawser—comic 321 Routing the Redskins liver Twis Ss: ys 221 Stump’s Racket Beldw Decks— | 322 Tom Fo 24 The Image of His Father 124 The Rival Schools te a 2 ine nage fies 125 Frank, the Fisher Boy 7: ae 328 sgpentares of a Philadelphie De 26 Gentleman George and His Pal 126 Young Tom Rodman ump ‘and’ His ‘Chums Momewst yi)’ picnara 8a 21 The Dead Boxer 127 Shorty, Jr., on His Ear—comic uo 825 Mystery of a a 28 Harty Hale 128 Fred Spangle 223 Three of a Kind—comic 20a Death BES a Mis-spent Life 29 One of the Boys of New York—comio | 129 The Young Tragedian 224 Charlie, Mike and Don—convic 327 Dominoes of Death 30 The King of Diamonds 130 Clarence Rhett 225 Thirteen 208. Gypey'Bess’ aL fhe Roun Rnnves 131 Paddy McGroarty 226 The Brotherhood of Death Sov Cress aritinans 82 The Pirate Doctor 132 Brian the Brave 227 Tricks 330 Rude, theta 33 Jonathan Wild 133 Yank, Shank & Co. 228 Under the Gallows aot Buatieg Cavalins’ 84 The Pirate Chief 184 Master of Himself 229 Adrift on a Floating Island 332 Youn: ¥, slr ous 36 The Smuggler of St. Malo. 135 Jim Jams; or, Jack of All Trades— | 230 Fred Huzle 333 The Seamer rw Be 86 Little Mack, the Boy Engineer comic Pet bans 834 The Prairie Witch josephine ; or, the Maid of the Gulf | 136 The Boy Boh eae ee 38 Sea Dog fusitle j.,oh The Aavent-| 187 The Fe seats atoascinigt hase teidy Doyle Crusoe 336 Traveling With ees oe 38 Burt, the Detectiv: ussé od Pen sonen ie tie cs Seceetetbuath 936 A Trip tothe Center ofthe Earth | S34 paree Dashing Hussars 40 The Hangman of Newgate 140 The Young Ventriloquist 236 Drilling Harry. 339 The Diamond E 41 ‘The Black Mask 141 Denver Dick 237 Rory the Smasher 340 Jack of the Naval Brigad 42. Dot Boy Fritz—comto 142 Dick Daring 238 An Irish Boy’s Luck Sat ‘Tho Solan Somat 43 Demon of the Deep 143 Gypsy Blanche 239 Behind the Bars 842 The Haunted Hi = 44 Mark Graham 144 The Boy Clown 240 The Boy Convict Corner ee 45 Starboard Jack 145 Three Yankee Chums 241 Tornado Tim 343 Sir Guy’s Secret 46 San Francisco Bob 146 Unlucky Tom—comic 240 "the Boy Avenger 344 Fortunes ofan A 41 Tom, Dick and the —- —comio 147 Lathy—comic 243 Jack the Joker mas Kor the Green Vie of Ol : 43 The Yankee Privateer 148 The Sea Fiends 244 The Irish Robbers Apprentca 340 Kathleen O*Shaughnessy 49 The Rover’s Oath 149 Under the Ocean 245 Fighting His Way 347 Tom, the Mid hie ian 7 50 Corkey—comic 150 Andy Handy 246 A Knight of the Brush 348 Out With Captain Cook 61 Dick Lightheart 151 Red Leary 247 Fritz the Tumbler 340 Every Ips Sailor 62 Dick Lightheart’s Trials 152 Daniel Boone 2 I 360 Ralph, the Light Dr $3 Dick Lightheart’s Triumph 153 Hale and Hearty 225. Dare-Devil Dick 351 The Brothers in aru “ie 6 Captain Hawke 1654 Thin of the Mafl Train a De oe 362 Jack of Cheapside 55 Out with ‘ 8 SHORES Sr} ot, the Son of His Daa |1se Mad Maurie Be ans el ee Srey Goer 354 The Golouel’s Daughter —comic 157 Shorty and the Count—comic oe pee ee $55 Walter’s Secret 37 The Pirate Schooner 158 The Wharf Boys a i 356 ‘The Outlaws of Berkeley Forest 68 The Gold Hunters 159 Big Silas aanthe Ree of the Swimming Gang —_| 357 Red Spear, the Outlaw 69: The Pirates of America : 160 Nip and Flip pr ed Ship of the Pacific 358 The House of a Hundred Terrors 60 The Pirate Cutter 161 The Four Jacks a an : ee of Harry Franco 859 Oswald, the Unknown 61 The Black Pirate 162 The Miser of Harlem 380 Th ae harley 360 Adventures of a Free Lance #2 Captain Kyd; or, the Pirate of Hell | 163 Young Harkaway and the Pirates | 290 pam ee BG) SCO RETO ES sau Gate iss peel 8 Triumph 261 The Blacksmith’s Apprentic: 268 TOpeE SOLER a Teeet 2 Boy ea hein Wilk H Harkaway on Magic Island 262 Jumping Joe PP e Tinker é4 Thres Finger Jack ph Baa eS 263 Jack Gordon $06 Tinker's Man Bogey 66 The Sea King 167 The Man of Many Faces 284 Mat McCarthy's Fort pg Baile rele 66 Life in the Red Brigada e Se Eee. ci 265 London Bobcomia 365 Young Harkaway in Turkey 6? Billy Bo'swain Cah eet Be Ne ne 266 An English B Gopi ole Arnos tha Mitsenteats : 70 Harkaway, the Magician inglish Boy in America—comic | 367 Young Harkaway and 68 The Devil on Two Sticks Ty, Becki 267 Scotty, the Terrier : Bee hoe mes 10 The Higupaters : Fate 172 Luke Lander, the Lion Hunter 268 Philadelphia Dave ar rare Sey ene eas, an’s Fa } 4, i The Lighthouseatardar 113 Rob Rattler, the Scapegrace 4 Bi ee Boxer 369 Secret of the Traitor’s Gate 72 The Assassin's Doom Gee oe eee 271 The False Detective sg rg seca : 78 The Pirate of the Shoals 16 The Gallant Middy 272 High Falutin’ Jim Bia) Soon Yaa 14 The Robbers ofthe Rhine HG are oy ee ene e 273 Charley Lance Bra She Brigand Chet 16 Jack Harkaway’s School Days air Tile Bival Crossed 274 A Search for a Missing Man oe Beco 76 Harkaway Afloat 178 Harkaway in Australia 275 Commodore Rip- 374 Zara, the Gypsy 71 Harkaway Among the Savages 179 Harkaway and the Convicts 2%6 Teddy O’Lynn 875 The Servian Spy 18 Harkeway’s Escape 180 Markaway and the Bush-Rangers 277 The Shadow Ship 376 Sword and Cimeter 19 Harkaway at Oxford 181 Chased Around the World 278 Lone Jack 377 Adam Bell 80 Harkaway and the Black Band eeecan ene Mistake 279 Blue Grass Bob 878: Archers.of Englewood 81 Harkaway and the Brigands 188 Chips '@ud Chin Gnin—oorntc 280 The Wild Rider of Ola Kentuck __| 319 Knight of the Red Cross 82 Harkaway und the Spy sd pf ic Obin ee Among the | 931 Shoo-Fly: or, Nobody's Moke—comic | 38° venkat fn RS Greiiway Teannod s—com 5 : roquard, the Free Lance 84 Harkaway and the Italians 185 Chips and Chin Chin’s Adventures 383 Shoo.kly in oars B84 The Pale ae Oacent 85 Dick Lightheart at Sea i186 with Indians—comic 984 Shoo-Fly the Gymnast—comi 383 Dick, the Brewer 86 Dick Lightheart Around the Wosld Chips and Chin Chin in Omaha— | 255 Shorey, the Foung Robber of the | 24 Tbe Oxford and Cambridge Eighwe 87 Dick Lightheart in London Jor Git West ’ Robben of the | 39h ‘The Wild Hantaman 88 Dick Lightheart’s Victory ips and Chin Chin in St. Louis— = 386 Tom Mansfield, the Smuggler 89 The Island of Mystery 188 © Ge 286 Dashing Bob — 387 The Sunken Treasure Se native Sens ps and Chin Chin in New York— | 287 Johnnie Burgoo 388 The Slave's Revenge 91 Claude Duval comic 288 Reliable Joe 389 Cris. Carrol, the Scout 92 Glande and His Pal 189 Jack Hawley 289 The Yankee Claude Duval 390 Phil Rayleigh, a London Arab a eee aT Bick 190 Two Boston Boys 290 Midshipman Ned go1 ‘The Knight of the Iron Hand 04 Claude in» Fix 191 Frank Martin, the Young Rajah 291 The Cruise of the Old Ironsides 392 Tom Lester 95 Duval Betrayed j92 The Locksmith’s Apprentice 292 Jack Fenny 393 Bicycle Bob 96 On the Scaffold 193 The Charmers and the Charmea 293 The Young Irish Brigand $94 Mark Darrell 97 The Highwayman’s Ride 194 The Red Circle 294 Lance, the Lion 895 Oscar Merivale 98 Claude Duval’s Dead Shot 195 The Nemesis; or, Tracked to Their | 295 Tipton Blue ote yp # Boule Black Bess Doom 297 irae bites G2 Righted at Last 308 oct the Pitta h Detecti aude in Jail 196 Tom Tramp 29 eas ; ve 0 8 8 That Boy of Ours—comic 399 Rob Racket {01 Duval’s Life Struggle 197 The Boy Pitot 299 Tom on His Muscle 400 Gypsy Dick Wou can obtain any of the above books from any newsdealer, or they will be sent to your address, post-paid, by sending the price te Box 2780. FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, 34 and 36 North Moore St, N. Y,
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— The Largest, Cheapest, Handsomest, mi AND MOST POPULAR LIBRARY IN THE WORLD. | Containing Tales of the Sea, Indian Stories, Mexican Romances, and Adventures in all parts of the World. READ THE FOLLOWING LIST OF 401 The Red River Pilot 402 Catana; or, The Robber’s Daughter 403 Detective Sketches 404 The Boy Scouts of the Sierras 405 The Heir of Longworth 406 A Ghost in the Mirror and Other Stories 407 Strange Stories of Maniacs 408 A Skeleton’s Legacy 409 The Pirate’s Son 410 The Young Revenue Detective 411 Little Hal, the Boy Engineer 412 * tain Hurricane; or, the Waif of the Wreck 413 Tow-path Ted 414 The Ghost of Paul Priestly 415 The Cruise of the “ Beauty ”? 416 Joe Jordan 417 Ebenezer Crow—comic 418 Oharlie Charlton 419 Gorilla George — 420 Stuttering Mose. 421 a Kingdom inthe Sea, a newer to **Dick Dauntless 422 Light-house Lem ig 428 The Search for the ‘Midas’? «+ ;"' 424 The Young Explorers 425 es Nugget, the Pride of Lead- 426 The Young Aeronant 427 The Boy een] 428 Prairie Phil 429 The Green Caps 430 Hollow Roost 481 The Grimsdale Ghost and Other ri Stories 482 Lost in Africa 483 Denver Dan and His Mystic Band, by ‘* Noname’* ; 434 Shorty in Search of His Dad— comic 435 The Blasted’ Pine; or, The Three Boy Scouts 436 Denver Dan and the Road Agents, by ‘“Noname ”? 437 Mhe Freebooter’s Secret 438 Sawdust Charlie 439 Denver Dan and the Counterfeiters, by “* Noname ’? 440 The Train Robbers; or, A Story of the James Boys 441 Ned Owen; or, The Mystery of a Missing Ship 442 Denver ‘Dan Outwitted, by ‘' No- 443 The Uirdie aoe it The Treasure Cav 445 Denver Dan the ° sheritt, by ‘ No- name’ 465 The Old Magician 446 Long Paw 447 A Yankee Boy in Africa 448 Black and Blue 449 Ivan and Ismail 450 Denver Dan’s Peril, by ‘“Noname” 451 The True Life of Billy the Kid 452 The Russian Sp. 453 The Creole Brothers 454 The Castaways 455 Denver Dan to the Rescue, by ‘t No- name” 456 Condemned; or, Number 709 457 The James Boys as Guerrillas 458 Billy He ll Schooldays 459 The Mad Doctor : 460 Zola, the Old Trapper’s Daughter 461 The Shortys’ Trip Around the World, wi “Peter Pad,” hand- somely ay aa by Thomas Worth—comie 462 The James kd and the Vigilantes 463’ Buffalo Bill’s Chum 464 Denver Dan and His Chums, by ny ‘‘Noname”? a) Put} 466 The James Boys and the Ku Klux | 467 The Brother’s Crime 468 Molly Bland, the Detective? 469 The James Boys in California . a0 Tumbling Tim—cginic : 471 Mat of the Mountain 472 The Picador of hapnitepeo hy ‘Th saa Island: © mes as Train “"reckers axwé yothers ring Sam—comic ant The Mad Sauter 478 Persimmon Bill 479 The James Boys in Minnesota 480 Buck Bidwell 481 Toby the Spy 482 The James Boys as Highwaymen 483, Denver Dan in New York, by ‘‘ No- name? 484 Tommy erie Jr., a Chip of the Old Block, by “Peter Pad.” Ius- trated—comie 485 Washed Ashore; or, Adventures in a Strange Land 486 Charlie Chubbs at College 487 The Irish Claude Duval 488 The James Boys’ Longest Chase 489 Fair-Weather Jack; or, Life in the Arctic Regions 490 The James Boys in Mexico 491 Old Fox; or, The Mystery of a Trunk 492 The James Boys at Cracker Neck 493 Silvershot | 494 The Silent Slayer SPECIAL No. 1, THE LIFE AND TRIAL OF FRANK JAMES, - SPECIAL No. 2; TRUE STORIES TOLD BY FRANK JAMES, - - THE LATEST ISSUES 495 The Irish Claude Duval as a Rebel 496 Astray in the Clouds 497 The Shortys: jed and Settled Down—com 498 The Tree of 499 The Twin Di 500 William Tell) Dead Shot of the West bse 501 Trap; 502 == pk er 508 oa junee, Jr. in College— ‘the World the Jeannette Tom Drake ‘Ford 508 Bt Bakkus—comic 509 Bo "and Arrow Jack Aretic Phil Fred Baxter “The Brooktield Bank Robbers The Border Bandits The James Boys and Timberlake Fighting Joe Invincible Bill 7 Skeleton Guich 8 The Irish Claude Duyal as a Priya- teer 519 The Woiverine 520 Ben Bolt 621 ‘The James Boys in Court 622 Bob Rollick—comic 623 Northwoods Tom 524 Only a Cabin Boy 526 Astray in Africa 626 Tiger Ted 527 The James Boys’ Cave 628 The Black Mask 529 Sou’west Fred 530 Bob Rollick, Drummer 631 The James Boys as Bank Robbers 532 The Black Hereules 633 Fireman Dick 584 The Shortys out For Fun 535 Red River Bill 586 ae Express Ned 537 T a Shortys’ Christmas and New Year at Home, By Peter boi aoe comic 538 The James Boys’ Brides 689 The Spies of the Delaware 540 Denver Dan, Jr 641 ‘The Steam Man of the Plains 542 On Deck 643 From Pole to Pole 644 a Wright and his Band of Canni 8 545 The Boy Captain 504 A rou the Yankee Notion SPECIAL No. 3. FRANK JAMES’ PRISON LIFE. - - - Do not fail to purchase one from your newsdealers, as they all have them on hand ; or they will. be sent to your address, postage PUBLISHED : 546 Pickle and Tickle—coméc 547 Fort Hayes 548 Noiseless Nat 549 The Secrets Under the Sea 550 The James boys' Band 551 Sam Sha‘ at School 562 Privateer Toro 558 Frank Reade and His Steam Horse 564 Billy the Bootblack 655 The Rival Scouts 566 The Coral Cave 557 The Army Scout 558 Missouri Jack and His Band of‘ 7” 559 Lasso Luke 560, Shady Dell School 661 The Man of Gold 562 The Mad Man of the North Pole. 668 Extree Nick,the New York enahoy 564 Oath-bound 665 Custer’s Last Shot 566 Gassy Hyde 567 Fred Hazard, the Star of the Cireus 568 Coon-Skin ‘Kit, the Government Scout 569 Denver Dan, Jr., and the Renegade 570 Billy Badger 571 The James Boys’ Fate 572 Mail-Car Ned; or, Falsely Accused 573 The Maniac Pirate 574 Smokestack Bob 575 Nimble Nip, the Imp of the Boho 676 King Morgan, the Terror of the Seas 577 The Convict's Oath 678 The Serpent Queen 579 The Fortune Hunters 580 The Fatal Star 581 The Bootblack’s Plot 682 Huron Harry 588 Doomed » 684 The Maniac Rider f 685 The Gypsies’ Den 686 Matt Merry 587 The Phantom Avenger 588 Hugo, the Texan -. 689 Lost on the Desert 690 The Avengers” Lea; 591 The Sea Wave's 1 ‘Cruise 592 Cromwell's Boy Spy 593 The Pirate Hermit 594 Dick the Shadow 595 Fighting the Redskins. 596 The Black Domino 597 Frank Reade and his Steam Team 698 Cheeky and Chipper 599 Deati Man’s Pond 600 The Tiger of the Seas 601 Harry O'Malley 602 Arkansaw Bill 603 The King of the Deep Price 10c. Price 16c. Price 10e. gree, on receipt of price, 5 cents, Address FRANK TOUSEY, Publisher, Box 2730. 34 and 36 North Moore Street, N. ¥.