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Updated: June 13, 2025
Mr. Jayres scowled until it seemed as if his black eyebrows would meet his bristly upper lip, and then he said: "Bootsey, before you come to the office to-morrow morning you'd better go to the Gallinipper Laundry in Washington Place, and tell a man named Tobey who keeps it, that er that I've gone out of town for a few days, Bootsey, on a pressing matter of business." The friends of Mr.
"Well, then, good-by, Steve, and, mind now, this afternoon." "All right, Inspector; good-by!" As Mr. Ricketty disappeared down Canal Street, the inspector of police turned to his friend and said: "That fellow was a clergyman once, and they say he used to preach brilliant sermons." Bootsey Biggs was a Boy.
Jakey needed no further provocation, and with great dexterity he crowded his fists into Shunks's eyes, deposited his head in Shunks's stomach, and was making a meritorious effort to climb upon Shunks's shoulders, when a lordly embodiment of the law's majesty hove gracefully into sight. Bootsey yelled a shrill warning, and himself set the example of flight.
Spread upon the little pine table that stood in one corner was his luncheon all ready for him, and after clambering into the big dry-goods box originally purchased for a coal-bin, but converted under the stress of a recent emergency into the baby's crib, and after kissing and poking and mauling and squeezing the poor little baby into a mild convulsion, Bootsey had gone heartily at work upon his luncheon.
Jayres turned, and with a heavy sigh he began to descend to the street. On the second landing he met Bootsey smoking a cigarette and whistling. Mr. Jayres did not fly into a passion. He did not grow red and frantic. He just took Bootsey by the hand and led him, step by step, up the rest of the way to the office. He drew him inside, shut the door, and led him over to his own table.
"You unmitigated little rascal!" cried Mr. Jayres, "where've you been?" "Nowhere," said Bootsey, in an injured tone. "Didn't I tell you to get back promptly?" "Aint I a-getting' back?" "Aint you a-get whew!" roared Mr. Jayres, with the utmost exasperation, "how I'd like to tan your plaguey little carcass till it was black and blue! Come on, now," and Mr. Jayres strode angrily ahead.
Bootsey followed. He offered no reply to this savage expression, but from his safe position in the rear he grinned amiably. Mr. Jayres was large and dark and dirty. His big fat face, shaped like a dumpling, wore a hard and ugly expression. Small black eyes sat under his low, expansive forehead.
Mr. Jayres leaned over the bannister and started to call. "Boo " he roared, and then checked himself. "Drat such a name as that," he said. "Who ever heard of a civilized Boy being called Bootsey? What'll people think to see a man of my age hanging over a bannister yelling 'Bootsey'! No, I must go down and hunt him up. I wonder why I keep that Boy? I wonder why I do it?" Mr.
At last, however, they were permitted to go, followed by a rabble of urchins, and Bootsey proceeded on his way to the office. Many other interruptions retarded his progress. He had not gone far before he was invited into a game of ball, and this, of course, could not be neglected.
"I come jest as soon 's I could," said Bootsey. "He was a werry fly ole gen'l'man." "What did he say?"
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