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Pinski, unfortunately, had been singled out by the Transcript, the Inquirer, and the Chronicle as one of those open to advance questioning by his constituents. Of mixed Jewish and American extraction, he had been born and raised in the Fourteenth and spoke with a decidedly American accent. He was neither small nor large sandy-haired, shifty-eyed, cunning, and on most occasions amiable.
"Wait till he tries to throw that dope into Gumble and Pinski and Schlumbohm haw, haw, haw!" Mr. Kerrigan, at the thought of these hearty aldermen accustomed to all the perquisites of graft and rake-off, leaned back and gave vent to a burst of deep-chested laughter.
"A free country?" "Search me!" replied his compatriot, wearily. "I never seen such a band as I have to deal with out in the Twentieth. Why, my God! a man can't call his name his own any more out here. It's got so now the newspapers tell everybody what to do." Alderman Pinski and Alderman Hoherkorn, conferring together in one corner, were both very dour.
Which way?" "Yes, which way?" Mr. "I have a right to my own mind, ain't I? I got a right to think. What for am I an alderman, then? The constitution..." "To hell with the constitution! No fine words now, Pinski. Which way do you expect to vote? For or against? Yes or no?" "He daresn't say. He's got some of that bastard's money in his jeans now, I'll bet." "Don't let them frighten you, Sim.
Simon Pinski at 9 P.M. on the second evening following the introduction of the ordinance, in the ward house of the Fourteenth Ward Democratic Club. Rotund, flaccid, red-faced, his costume a long black frock-coat and silk hat, Mr. Pinski was being heckled by his neighbors and business associates. He had been called here by threats to answer for his prospective high crimes and misdemeanors.
Ain't I goin' to be allowed to finish?" A Voice. "We'll finish you, you stiff!" "How will you vote, hey? Tell us that! How? Hey?" "You're a no-good, you robber. I know you for ten years now already. You cheated me when you were in the grocery business." "Answer me this, Mr. Pinski. If a majority of the citizens of the Fourteenth Ward don't want you to vote for it, will you still vote for it?"
"I'll tell you what, Joe," said Pinski to his confrere; "it's this fellow Lucas that has got the people so stirred up. I didn't go home last night because I didn't want those fellows to follow me down there. Me and my wife stayed down-town. But one of the boys was over here at Jake's a little while ago, and he says there must 'a' been five hundred people around my house at six o'clock, already.
"Ha! ha! ha! Pinski never took a dollar! Ho! ho! ho! Whoop-ee!" Mr. "It is so. Why should I talk to a lot of loafers that come here because the papers tell them to call me names? I have been an alderman for six years now. Everybody knows me." A Voice. "You call us loafers. You crook!" "You bet they do!" "Hey, you old grafter! Which way do you expect to vote? For or against this franchise?
There are even women here local church-members, and one or two advanced civic reformers and W. C. T. U. bar-room smashers. Mr. "Hey, Pinski! You old boodler! How much do you expect to get out of this traction business?" Mr. "The man that says I am a boodler is a liar! I never took a dishonest dollar in my life, and everybody in the Fourteenth Ward knows it." The Five Hundred People Assembled.
Their substance is slight enough, but each has a certain symbolic value, and the poetry of M. Mendès' style has been successfully transferred to the English version. We have already come to know what a keen analyst America has in Mr. Pinski from the translations of his plays which have been published.
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