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Updated: June 23, 2025
To begin at the remote beginning, there once upon a time was a fight in front of the public school in Henry Street over on the East Side, in which encounter one Pasquale Gallino licked the Semitic stuffings out of a fellow-pupil of his by name Hyman Ginsburg.
In Stretchy Gorman's operations Stretchy acted as his own lookout, and a highly competent one he was, too, with a preference for lurking in areaways while his lieutenants carried forward the more arduous but less responsible shares of the undertaking. In the darkness behind Ginsburg where he crouched a long gorilla's arm of an arm reached outward and downward, describing an arc.
At one time he was Captain in the National Guards. He was political boss of his community and protector for a small tribe of Indians. He was a hard-working, law-abiding citizen. In order to know the story we must go back a little. In 1892 Solomon Ginsburg sold a Bible to Guilhermino de Almeida on the train when he was going to Armagoza.
"This Goodman, now?" queried Ginsburg, trying to chamber many impressions at once. "I don't seem to place him. He wasn't in B Company?" "Naw! He's out of D Company. He's a new guy. He's out of a bunch of replacements that come up for D Company only the day before yistiddy. Well, for a green hand he certainly handled himself like one old-timer."
Sergeant Hyman Ginsburg, going along at the head of his squad, got this notion quite well fixed in his mind.
Once after this, when Missionary Ginsburg was to hold an open-air meeting in this same town, a soldier was hired to take his life. The officers of the law left town in order that the deed might be done without hindrance. The soldier drank whisky in order to brace himself for the deed, and fortunately imbibed too much and became so intoxicated that he fell asleep.
R.L. Ginsburg, of the Ginsburg-Flatow Millinery Company, engaged her services, and kissed her squarely on the lips to seal the bargain. The straight line of those lips had undeniably softened. She walked about with them usually moist and slightly open, and the arch of her brows very high. She had softened ineffably, like a ripened fruit; was more liable to the backward glance of the passer-by.
Ginsburg broke in on him: "How's Captain Griswold?" "Oh, the cap was as good as dead when this here guy, Goodman, fetched him in on his back after he'd went out after you fell and fetched you back in first. I seen the whole thing myself it was right after that that I got beaned. One good scout, the cap was. And there ain't nothin' wrong with this Goodman, neither; you kin take it from me."
Dempsey, aged nineteen, spoke as the grizzled veteran of many campaigns might have spoken. "Yes, sir! He certainly snatched you out of a damn bad hole in jig time." "I'd like to have a look at him," said Ginsburg. "And my old mother back home would, too, I know." "Your mother'll have to wait, but you kin have your wish," said Dempsey gleefully.
They retreated without evidences of disorder almost reluctantly as though by this very slowness of movement to signify their disgust for the supposed fiasco that had enveloped them, causing them to waste lives in an ill-timed and futile endeavour. Ginsburg reëntered the covert of birches with a sense of gratitude for its protection and let himself down into the trench.
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