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Updated: May 7, 2025
And, with great enjoyment, they begin careering over the room. The nimble Niura, always the first to announce all the news, suddenly jumps down from the window sill, and calls out, spluttering from the excitement and hurry: "A swell carriage...has driven up...to Treppel ...with electricity... Oi, goils...may I die on the spot...there's electricity on the shafts."
"Goils," she remonstrated, "this ain't no way to act. Say, Miss Masters," she went on, "I guess the whole lot of us is out of order now. What would you do about it if you was me?" "I should suggest," Miss Masters answered, "that the motion to adjourn be carried and that the whole club go into committee on the question raised by Miss Meyer."
Greesheimer!" she cried, half laughing. "It's simply too wonderful for words!" "Ha ha!" He still had her by the arms. "All you young goils could love me now eh? you could take an old fehlah! Ha-ha-ha!" And the next instant, furious, she felt herself hugged violently, kissed! His lips! His fat soft body! Ugh! She dug her elbow into him with a stifled cry and wrenched away.
Ophelia and Horatio and Hamlet were going through Clinton Street together. Ophelia was still at Elsinore but Horatio was approaching common ground again. "I suppose he's Miss Masters' steady," said he to Hamlet. "He wouldn't come down here every other night just to help us goils out." But Ophelia was better informed. She knew Miss Masters to be engaged to quite another person.
See? Und I don't vant a goil, I vant a man a smart young fellah, y'understand. . . . Jewish? Yes! You betcher! No more Christian goils in mine! Dey have rotten minds plain rotten minds!" But to Ethel, walking blindly, no such explanation occurred.
"I try to make her rest up in summer," pursued Mrs. Blondheim, unpunctured. "You goils wear yourselves out nothin' but beaus, beaus all the time. There ain't a night in New York that my Bella ain't out with some young man. I always say to her, 'Bella, the theayters ought to give you a commission." Miss Sternberger rocked. "Where did you say you live in New York, Miss Sternberger?"
"I'se not dat kind of mug, boss," protested the Bowery boy. "I ain't got no use fer goils. It's a mutt's game." This was rank heresy. Jimmy laid down the razor from motives of prudence, and proceeded to lighten Spike's reprehensible darkness. "Spike, you're an ass," he said. "You don't know anything about it.
"Where did she go?" Pugsy vouchsafed another jerk of the head, in the direction of the outer door. "She's beaten it," he said. "I seen her make a break for de stairs. Guess she's forgotten to remember somet'ing," he added indifferently, turning once more to his romance of prairie life. "Goils is bone-heads."
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