Detroit evening times. (Detroit, Mich) 1921-1958, 1941-02-23
Continued from Page 16)


with a burnt match. She was
bald, too. used to wear wigs;
sometimes blonde. sometimes
brunette, and when she felt
specially wild she became a red
head
She used to wear low cut eve
ming dresses. tho / don't know
why, for that old bag wouldn't
h ave interested a three-year
homeward bounder And she was
covered with diamonds. on her
dirty fingers. round her stringy
neck and in her false hair But
no one thought to steal any of
them: that would have been a
short cut to Davey Jones.
They used to call her Queen
of the Shanghaiers." and many's
the hundred sailors who were
doped. rolled for their pay and
shipped aboard an outward
bound he'll ship twenty-four hours
after they had landed from a
long voy'ge.
She had three partners. worst
mugs in Frisco. Mahogany Leg
DAILY, Wharf Rat Charley and
Dick the Wretch. How they got
such names or why they were
proud of 'em / don't know, but
they were.
Sailors is queer people. Tell
'em TO keep away from a place
and they want TO live there.
That's how 1t was with the
Cuckoo's Nest. Always fun of
seamen, though they knew that
Mag'd poison 'em soon as down
a slug of rotgut. And If they
didn't get doped and shanghaied,
DAILY or Wharf Rat Charley would
tap 'em on the head and steal
what Mag hadn't been able TO
get out of their pockets.
At night the joint was blaze
of lights. The floor was sawdust,
with cuspidors everywhere, a few
tables for women and the long
bar with fancy. messages tackled
on the wall around the mirror.
A piano in the corner was
played By narrow-ehested, yell
low-faced Italian. and a choking
consumptive played a concertina.
People'd dance and Mag. who
didn't have enough sense to keep
off her own liquor would usually
get "A bit above herself as the
evening wore on and she'd bounce
out from behind the bar and
dance a hornpipe in the middle
Of the floor
got introduced TO the place
first time l ever went 20 Frisco.
and that night l got a lesson that
kept me outta the Cuckoo's Nest
for the rest Of my days.
There was a mighty sailor.
Norwegian. he was. used 10 60
there. He'd sailed up and down
the seven seas and was powerful
as a bull
Il bane free man, he would
below. I sail when I like. No
longshore crimp catch my gelt.
No man bane shanghai me" and
he would bang his mug on the
counter and look about him til
the crimps would grin uneasy
and get out Oh, he used TO get
drunk. but he kept his wits about
him and heaven help the rat
would tried 70 dope him.
The night I was there some
one pointed out the big Nor
wegian. He was about seven feet
tall and broad as a Dutch canal
barge. He was standing up 10
the bar downing rum by the mug
full. Mag was talking to him. the
diamonds in her red wig spark
ling in the gaslights. She was
pouring his drinks personal. but
the big guy was watching her
like a hawk I noticed she kept
edging down the bar and to talk
70 her the Norwegian had TO
move down too. I was with a pal
of mine and he was showing me
the place.
See what she's up to-" he
whispered She's getting him
down TO that trapdoor, leads TO
her cellar I'll bet a dollar she 5
trying 10 dope him. She uses
choral hydrate, she does. Poison
it is, but it'l knock a man out
quicker'n death"
Sure enough by this time the
sailor was standing right on that
trapdoor and everybody in the
joint was watching them But
he didn't seem to know what was
goin on. He was telling her some
yarn about his last voyage and
swallowing great gulps Of rum.
"Lookit that" whispered my
pal.
l saw her pour him a drink,
and neat as a flash. she upended
a little bottle into his mug.