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"And the Fi'th Av'noo, and the Waldorf-Astoria," mimicked McGuire. "Told you I went broke. I'm on de bum proper. I've got one dime left. Maybe a trip to Europe or a sail in me private yacht would fix me up pa-per!" He flung his dime at a newsboy, got his /Express/, propped his back against the truck, and was at once rapt in the account of his Waterloo, as expanded by the ingenious press.
He's got to have a wife at home to make him oncomfortable if he comes in dhrunk, he's got to have little prattlin' childher that he can't sind to th' Young Ladies' academy onless he stuffs a ballotbox properly, an' he's got to have a sthrong desire f'r to live in th' av'noo an' be seen dhrivin' downtown in an open carredge with his wife settin' beside him undher a r-red parasol.
Now I'm one of the people, I know what they want, and on that line I carried the ward against a combine-ation of all the wealth and aristocracy of Algonkin Av'noo." Jacob's magnanimity did not rest with merely a verbal acknowledgment of Farnham's merits.
Even after he had given up the fight, he continued to revenge himself upon his wife for his defeat. "We've got to have a set of gold spoons, I guess. These will never do for highfliers like us." Or, "Drop in at Swillem's and send home a few dozen champagne; I can't stummick such common drink as coffee for breakfast." Or, "I must fix up and make some calls on Algonkin Av'noo.
"My gosh! I'll say it does. Sounds like a Sat'day night row in a Second Av'noo saloon, except there ain't no shootin'. Guess you boys have some night life, too, even if ye are away back in the bush." "Time for us to move, Tim," laughed Knowlton. "It'll be dark in no time. Joao, will you have our baggage moved to the hotel?"
Win wanted to know. She expected the answer to be "man," but Lily did not seem to hear. Her face looked dreamy. "It's the loveliest house where the party'll be," she said. "'Tain't the artist's own. It's some relation's that's lent it for the summer while they're away at the seashore. I bin there. It's in the Fifties, just off Fift' Av'noo.
'We must be up an' doin', he says. 'Hol' on there, says wan iv th' comity. 'There must be some mistake in this fr'm th' sixth precin't, he says. 'Where's the sixth precin't? says Clarence. 'Over be th' dumps, says Willie. 'I told me futman to see to that. He lives at th' corner iv Desplaines an Bloo Island Av'noo on Goose's Island, he says.
Th' minyit a Mormon thries to break into a pollytical job, a dillygation rises an' says they: 'What! they says, 'permit this polluted monsther f'r to invade th' chaste atmosphere, they says, 'iv th' house iv riprisintatives, they says. 'Permit him f'r to parade his fam'ly down Pinnsylvanya Av'noo an' block thraffic, they says.
"And the Fi'th Av'noo, and the Waldorf-Astoria," mimicked McGuire. "Told you I went broke. I'm on de bum proper. I've got one dime left. Maybe a trip to Europe or a sail in me private yacht would fix me up pa-per!" He flung his dime at a newsboy, got his Express, propped his back against the truck, and was at once rapt in the account of his Waterloo, as expanded by the ingenious press.
That man tells me your folks live 'way down in little old Hencoop Alley, where there are no sidewalks, and the goats eat off the table with you. "That kid was almost crying now. ''Taint so, he splutters. 'He he don't know what he's talking about. We live on Poplar Av'noo. I don't 'sociate with goats. What's the matter with you? "'Poplar Avenue, says I, sarcastic. 'Poplar Avenue!
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