The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1908-04-05
MAGAZINE SECTION.
Sir Peter Of the Pail


injunction against myself to keep me
) from leavin' home. What | need is a
\life sentence to stay in little old New
York It's the only place where
fthings happen regular and sensible II
\ you see rocks flynn round IN the ar
Cor a new building dom the hoochee-
scoochee an sheddin' its corniees' OF
manhole covers poppin. OIL you k Sito,,
Just what's uD-nothing but a niue
stick of dynamite handled careless OF
some mislaid gas touched OFF by
plumber.
But the minute l let's some one lead
me across a ferry, or beyond ne
Bronx. the event card is on the bilhk'
and I'm q bunky-doodie boy Ions
don't get mOre'n a mile from rory
Second street. I'm Professor McCabe'
and the cons mass me the time of day.
Outside OF that I'm stray, and any
one that gets the fit ties can 10 me.
Now. I run me studio here ON the
STRAIGHT: no fortune-Jellin' on the side,
no vibration frills. no electric stimula-
tors. | can give EN- all the ration
that's good for their health with par
OF hair-stuffed mitts. But for all that
I've been gettin' my name up as a bel
fry brusher bat chaser.
YO ucOuldn't guess who it was that
steered me no against this last one.
Eo il want John D. nor Uncle Rus
sell; but you're warm. It was Pyra~
mid Gordon. Sure, He's on my list,
I'd had him as a reglar for about a
month-AfOndays, Wednesdays, ana
Saturdays from five To siN-and ne
HAS Just gettin' so he knew what real
Twin was. when sOmethin breaks
loose down on the street that makes
him forget everything but the figures
on the tape. So he quits trainin' .
About ten days later he drops in mere
one afternoon, with fur on his tongue
and his eyes loolIin' like a couple OF
cold fried eggs.
Are you comm or goin', Mr.. Cor
DOM" says l.
Where. Shortly" says he.
r'Hospital," says 1
He grinned a little, the kind of grin
a Teller wears when he's bein' helped
10 his corner, after the count.
II know" says he: but when
you've been sitting for TWO weeks on
a volcano. Shorty, wondering whether
it would blow you up, or open and let
you fall in. you're apt TO forget your
liver
1T amt apt to forget you, though, ."
saws I. Shall we have a little session
( right now?"
And then he springs mis- proposition.
He'd got to go to Washington ana
back inside of the next two breakfasts.
and he wanted me to go along; some
on account of his liver, but mostly SOS
he could forget that he was still on
the lid. His private car was hitched
to the tail of the Flyer, and
he had just forty-five minutes to get
aboard. Would I come?
Mn I'm wiped out by the time we get
BACK" says he, I'm make you a pre-
ferred creditor"
.'I'U take chances on that." says /.
They did do the trick to Pyramid
once. you know; but they'd never got
him right since. They had him worried
some this time though. You could tell
that by the way he smiled at the
wrong cues. and combed his deacons
with his fingers. They're the only
deacon whiskers L ever had III the
studio. Used to make me nervous
when | hit EN-. for fear I'd drive 'em
I'm. But he's dead game, Pyramid is
whether he's stoppin mitts, or buck
IN the Upright Oil push. So l grabs
few things off the wall, turns the
Joint over to Swiftly Joe, and we pixies
for the ferry.
where's the other parties? says l,
Nhen I'd sized up the inside of the
Adeline. There was room enough for
a minstrel troupe.
We're - he it all to ourselves,
professor" says he. And it's almost
time Tor US 70 pun Oulp liiSAC liz 4o'7t
Cortlandt street boat in.
About then we hears Mr.. Rufus
Rastus. the Congo brunette that 5
master of ceremonies on the car, haV-
IN an argument out in the Vestibule.
he was tryin' TO shunt somebody.
They didn't shunt thOugh,and in comes
a long-geared old gent. wearin' one of
those belted ulsters that they make
ont of horse blankets for English tour
bad a
same pattern, and the lengthiest
face I ever saw on a man. 1t wasn't
cheerful either; looked like ne was
euntin for his own tombstone, and
9dn't care how soon he found II. Ru-
fus Rastus was hangin' TO one of his
arms, splutterin' things about this be-
ing a private car, and gettin no more
notice taken Of himself than as if he'd
been an escape valve. Behind EN-
totin' a lot OF leather bags of al
shapes, was a peaked-nOsed chap, who
looked like he was dom all the fret
tin for a Don't Worry club.
It's honly Sir Peter" says the wOr-
ried chap 'E's hyde a mistyke. y
know. Hin get i'm out, sir"
'Danvers, shut up!" says Sir Peter
Yes. sir; directly, sir; but" says
he.
Shut up now, and sit down." Sir
Peter wasn't scrappy about it. He
just said it as though he was tired
But Danvers wilted.
shall 1 give 'em the rum" says I
NO" says Mr.. Gordon; there's the
bell. We can get rid of them at the
Afpst stop"
Then he goes over to Sir Peter, tells
him all about the Adeline's bein' g
private snap, and how he can change
to a parlor car at Trenton.
The old fellow seems TO take it al
in. IooI1in' him straight in the eye
without turnin' a hair, and then n,
says, Just as if they'd been talkin
about il for a month: You'd better
wear a bucket. as l do. 1t looks a lit
tie odd, you know; but the decimal:
can't get through a bucket. Danvers!'
he sings out.
But you don't understand, say;
Pyramid. 81 said this was a privat;
car-private carl"
Don't shout" says Sir Peter. I'm
Not deaf. I'd lend you bucket if
: had an extra one; but I haven't Dan
Versi"
This time DanVers edged in with one
.taco Lon thor