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Updated: May 25, 2025
But I go round to Lockwin's, and he seem to hope I'd win. He beats me." "Why, he's the machine man, Corkey. You don't expect to beat the machine?" "Cert. All machines is knocked out, some time, ain't they?" "Not by the marines, Corkey." "I can lick the man who comes down on these docks to say I'm going to get the worst of it."
I don't know but I like Esther Lockwin the better. I never knew a man to lose so much as Lockwin did by dying." "She declares his death was due to the little boy's death." "Odd thing, wasn't it?" "Yes, but he was a beautiful child. What was his name, now?" "It was Lockwin's name let me see David." "Oh, yes, Davy, they called him."
She saw him kissing the soles of Davy's feet. There is something despotic in her nature which was satisfied in his act. There is also a devotion in her nature which might be as profound. She would kiss the soles of David Lockwin's feet, were he dead. She could kiss his feet were he despised and rejected among men. Yet she is counted the haughtiest woman that goes by. "Mrs.
The amount is half of Lockwin's estate. Esther shall have the rest. Serious matters are these, for a man to consider, who sits stretched out on a seat, one ankle over the other, his hands deep in pocket, his chin far down on his chest; and Corkey appealing in his dumb, yet eloquent way, for a share of the spoils of office. This life of David Lockwin, the people's idol, is an unendurable fiasco.
David Lockwin thinks of Tarpion's threat about a claimant. It grows clear to him that there is a Chicagoan alive who can view his own cenotaph, his own memorial hospital, his own home who can proclaim himself to be the husband, and yet there will be men like Tarpion who will deny all. Lockwin's face annoys him. "Why was I such a fool to go without the proper treatment in that outlandish region!
But it is the well Davy the little face framed at the window, waiting for papa, waiting to know about Josephus it is that Davy which stimulates the soul. Is it not a trial, then, to hear this boy this rock of Lockwin's better nature in the grapple with Death himself?
The monument-maker at this begins a discourse on the economies of his business and shows that he can meet the requirements of any income or purse. "Did you see Lockwin's portrait at the institute?" asks the third party, "No. Is it good?" "I hardly think so. I don't remember that he ever looked just like it.
This pneumonia is a bad thing, anyhow. Tramp, tramp, the small army goes down the long, iron stairways. "Did you hear about Corkey?" they ask as they go. "Corkey had a heart in him like an ox." "Bet he had," echoes up from the nethermost iron stairway. Esther Lockwin's wedding day is at hand. Her mansion is this afternoon a suite of odorous bowers. Happy the man who may be secure in her affection!
Let us see how it fared with Lockwin's friend Orthwaite, who found life to be insupportable. The respectability which so beclogs Lockwin had been secretly lost by Orthwaite. His shame would soon be exposed. Orthwaite returned to his home on the last suburban train. He purposely appeared gay before his train-acquaintances. He left the train in high spirits. He pursued a lonely path toward home.
He has left his Davy talking in his own voice, breathing with perfect freedom and ready to go to sleep. The people's idol appears at head-quarters. He tells all the boys of his good fortune. They open his barrel and become more in hope of the country than ever before. The great Corkey appears also at Lockwin's head-quarters. "Hear you've had sickness." he says.
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