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Updated: June 6, 2025
"So Chukkers has chucked you." "So I believe," answered Silver. "I wep' a tear when they tell me. I did reelly," said the old man, dabbing his eye. "He's goin' to ride Ikey's Jackaroo that donkey-coloured waler he brought home from Back o' Sunday. That's what he's after." Silver nodded. "I'm not altogether sorry," he said quietly. "And I'm not entirely surprised."
His interior was sponge-lined, and when the bartenders began to send them in fast, Ikey would lower an asbestos curtain to keep the fumes away from his brain. Nobody ever saw Ikey at high tide. There was surely something wrong with Ikey's switchboard, because he could wrap his system around more Indian laughing-juice without getting lit up than any other man in the world.
Schwartz," laughed Bunch somewhat nervously, but Ikey's grin never flickered. "Is Mr. Schwartz deaf and dumb?" Peaches whispered. "Intermittently so," I whispered back; "sometimes for hours at a time he cannot speak a word and can hear only the loudest tones."
They began to "doll up," which, being interpreted, means to attire oneself in one's best raiment, including the newest tie, the stiffest collar and the most uncomfortable shirt, to say nothing of patent leather shoes a size too small. "Whew!" panted Andy, as he adjusted his scarf for the fourth or fifth time, "these bargains of Ikey's aren't what they're cracked up to be." "I should say not.
Und comes mans, und mans, und mans a great big all of mans und they says: 'What's the matter with Ikey Borrachsohn's papa? he ain't got no sickness, Miss Bailey, on'y it's polite you say like that on p'rades. Und more mans they says: 'Nothings is mit him. He's all right! That is what is p'rades. Ikey's papa's got them, und so you dassent to wash out his mouth."
So the doc grabbed me and bandaged me like this," he added in a much disgusted tone. It was Michael Donahue who proudly showed himself later with his arm in a sling. He had actually got a piece of shell through the flesh below his elbow. The others were inclined to scorn his wound as they did Ikey's boil. "That'll do for you fellers," said Frenchy proudly. "By St.
"Here's Nance Molloy, Pa" said Ikey, raising his voice above the noise of the machines and tugging at his father's sleeve. Mr. Lavinski pushed his derby hat further back on his perspiring brow, and looked up. He had a dark, sharp face, and alert black eyes, exactly like Ikey's, and a black beard with two locks of black hair trained down in front of his ears to meet it.
"If we win the game to-morrow I'll buy a dollar's worth, provided you let us alone now." "It's a bargain!" cried Ikey, gathering up the scattered socks. "And I'll do the same," promised Dunk, whereupon the salesman departed for other rooms. "Queer chap, isn't he?" remarked Dunk, after a pause that followed Ikey's departure.
Each said he could name more great men of his race who were famous in history than the other could. And they argued, and nearly came to blows, and were no further along until they thought of making a bet. An odd bet it was. For each great name that Sandy named of a Scot whom history had honored he was to pull out one of Ikey's hairs, and Ikey was to have the same privilege.
It was growing dusk as they drove through the town, but the streets, the hotel stoops, and bars were filled with men in various stages of intoxication. As they caught sight of Ike and recognised his companion, they indulged themselves in various facetious remarks. "Hello, Ike. Goin' to meetin'?" "No," retorted Ike shortly. "Goin' to school fer manners. Want to come?" "Ikey's got religion.
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