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The visitor nodded, not without a touch of complacency, as of a monarch abandoning his incognito. For Mr. Jarvis was a celebrity. By profession he was a dealer in animals, birds, and snakes. He had a fancier's shop on Groome Street, in the heart of the Bowery. This was on the ground floor.
The Bowery and eastern section of the city are full of cheap lodging houses, which form a peculiar feature of city life. "There is a very large and increasing class of vagrants who live from hand to mouth, and who, beneath the dignity of the lowest grade of boarding houses, find a nightly abode in cheap lodgings.
We went to the Isle of Man, a few weeks ago, where S and the children spent a fortnight. I spent two Sundays with them. I never saw anything prettier than the little church of Kirk Madden there. It stands in a perfect seclusion of shadowy trees, a plain little church, that would not be at all remarkable in another situation, but is most picturesque in its solitude and bowery environment.
His not having the jewels will make the case all the blacker against him. And what will make them still more certain that he is the thief is that he really is a detective. Spike, you ought to be in some sort of a home, you know." The Bowery boy looked disturbed. "I didn't t'ink of dat, boss," he admitted. "Of course not. One can't think of everything.
"Because I've been talking about you as if we were the OLDEST friends, and I'd hate to have them find me out. I've told them everything about your appearance you see, and how your hair was parted, and how you were dressed, and " "Luk here," he interrupted, suddenly discharging his Bowery laugh, "did you tell 'em how HE was dressed?" He pointed a jocular finger at me. "That WUD 'a' made a hit!"
"Found one in an old guide book and fixed it up like a chart, markin' off the reefs and shoals in red ink, and the main channels in black fathom figures. Now here's Front and South-sts., very shoal, dangerous passin' at any tide. There's a channel up the Bowery; but it's crooked and full of buoys and beacons. I ain't tackled that yet. I've stuck to Broadway and Fifth-ave. All clear sailin' there."
It was all in the ponderously airy form of one of those more or less true stories of which some modern weeklies seem to have an inexhaustible supply, but it was a particularly vicious specimen of its class so far as Mr. Van Torp was concerned. His life was torn up by the roots and mercilessly pulled to pieces, and he was shown to the public as a Leicester Square Lovelace or a Bowery Don Juan.
The following article, extracted from a newspaper published at that period, will throw some light upon the views held in reference to the unhappy young man, and show how the circumstances under which he was arrested operated prejudicially to him: 'ATROCIOUS MURDER. Last night, about nine o'clock, cries of murder were heard proceeding from the house No. Bowery.
The canon and madame were sipping their café noir after dinner, seated in the verandah towards the garden, and Madame Babette, the toil of the day over, was dozing and reposing under the bowery sweet clematis at the end by her own domain. The elderly people welcomed their young visitors with hospitable warmth.
Leaving the blood-stained blouse on the bed beside him where she had flung it down after tearing it off, she turned out the light, darted down stairs and into the street. At Times Square she took the Subway for the Bowery. To change one's world, one need not travel far in New York; the ocean is not so wide as is the gap between the Tenderloin and the lower East Side.
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