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Updated: May 13, 2025
Van Duyckink," he said, "I've heard you was talking about starting some reforms among the poor people down in my district. I'm McMahan, you know. Say, now, if that's straight I'll do all I can to help you. And what I says goes in that neck of the woods, don't it? Oh, say, I rather guess it does." Van Duyckink's rather sombre eyes lighted up.
Duyckink shall live in Liverpool, so that papa will not have to go across any more, but he can stay at home with us. Oh, Dicky!" That "Oh, Dicky!" told volumes to the boy's heart. "Mamma," he said at last, "isn't it good that God didn't give boys and girls to Mr. Duyckink? Because you see if he had, why, then Mr. Duyckink wouldn't like to live over there." "Mr.
Down Delancey slowly crept the pale-gray auto. Away from it toddled coveys of wondering, tangle-haired, barefooted, unwashed children. It stopped before a crazy brick structure, foul and awry. Van Duyckink alighted to examine at a better perspective one of the leaning walls.
"All right," said Billy, "if it's against the rules. I wonder if 'twould do to send my friend Van Duyckink a bottle? No? Well, it'll flow all right at the caffy to-night, just the same. It'll be rubber boots for anybody who comes in there any time up to 2 A. M." Billy McMahan was happy. He had shaken the hand of Cortlandt Van Duyckink.
The big pale-gray auto with its shining metal work looked out of place moving slowly among the push carts and trash-heaps on the lower east side. So did Cortlandt Van Duyckink, with his aristocratic face and white, thin hands, as he steered carefully between the groups of ragged, scurrying youngsters in the streets.
We shall be friends." As the auto crept carefully away Cortlandt Van Duyckink felt an unaccustomed glow about his heart. He was near to being a happy man. He had shaken the hand of Ikey Snigglefritz. We are to consider the shade known as purple. It is a color justly in repute among the sons and daughters of man. Emperors claim it for their especial dye.
Down the steps of the building came a young man who seemed to epitomize its degradation, squalor and infelicity a narrow-chested, pale, unsavory young man, puffing at a cigarette. Obeying a sudden impulse, Van Duyckink stepped out and warmly grasped the hand of what seemed to him a living rebuke. "I want to know you people," he said, sincerely. "I am going to help you as much as I can.
Afternoon, under guidance of J. T. Headley, the party scrambled through the ice-glen. August 7th. Messrs. Duyckink, Matthews, Melville, and Melville, junior, called in the forenoon. Gave them a couple of bottles of Mr. Mansfield's champagne, and walked down to the lake with them. At twilight Mr. Edwin P. Whipple and wife called. August 8th. Mr. and Mrs. Whipple took tea with us. August 12th.
That man was Cortlandt Van Duyckink, a man worth eighty millions, who inherited and held a sacred seat in the exclusive inner circle of society. Billy McMahan spoke to no one around him, because he knew no one. Van Duyckink kept his eyes on his plate because he knew that every one present was hungry to catch his.
And so did Miss Constance Schuyler, with her dim, ascetic beauty, seated at his side. "Oh, Cortlandt," she breathed, "isn't it sad that human beings have to live in such wretchedness and poverty? And you how noble it is of you to think of them, to give your time and money to improve their condition!" Van Duyckink turned his solemn eyes upon her. "It is little," he said, sadly, "that I can do.
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