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Updated: June 27, 2025
Then would follow a description of that terrible flea-bitten mare, and of Johnnie's bravery; of the fierce kick, and the boy's quiet bearing of his agony, all closing with a word about the wound and its seriousness. Next, it would be Big Tom's turn. Doubtless the longshoreman would touch also upon the fact that he was considerably out of pocket, but Johnnie would not mind that.
Suddenly, muttering a curse, the longshoreman lurched forward and reached for the younger man. In the same instant, Mr. Perkins clenched his own fists and held them before him on guard. But also he advanced, though elusively, slipping to one side of those great paws.
"You might drop it, and something would break." "All right, sir. Very well, sir," and once more the 'longshoreman made as if to touch his hat. It was a habit of his to do this whenever spoken to by those who employed him. "There you go again!" cried the man in rather whining tones. "Don't do it, I say! There! Keep your hands on the trunk!"
Meanwhile, with his other hand, the longshoreman thrust Cis down into her chair. Then growling as he worked, he wound her in the rope as in the coils of a serpent, and bound her, body, ankles, and arms, to the kitchen table. Johnnie came crawling back, bruised, but scarcely knowing it; thinking only of Cis, of saving her from pain and indignity. "No, Mister Barber!" he pleaded.
The longshoreman turned toward her now, and his look was full of hate. "I guess y'll do jus' about what I tell y' to," he said significantly. "Algy's goin' t' be too sick t' look after y'." Johnnie emitted a woeful little peep. "Oo-oo! Mister Perkins!" he pleaded. "Couldn't y' put off fightin' till till some other time?" Johnnie's anxious demand amused Big Tom.
Yet he forced himself to go close to the longshoreman, and held the brimming basin well forward. "Can I will y' let me wash y'r face?" "Lemme alone!" almost screamed Big Tom. With a curse, and without turning his head, he made one of those flail-like sweeps with an arm, struck the basin, and sent it full in the face of the boy.
"And everybody in the whole neighborhood, too! They'll drive you out of this part of town you see if they don't! And, oh, wait till One-Eye knows, and Mr. Perkins!" It was just then, as she paused for breath, that something happened which was unexpected, unforeseen, and terrible in its results. The longshoreman, to empty his pipe, rapped once on that pipe leading down into the sink from Mrs.
Would he go, after handing the longshoreman over to the harshest patrolman in New York? or would it be a doctor who would remain behind in the flat with the tyrant, assuring Johnnie, as the latter sauntered out of the kitchen for the very last time, that no skill on earth could entirely mend the hurts which he had so bravely inflicted upon his groaning foster father? or would he set sail grandly from the Battery for some port at least a million miles away, his last view of the metropolis including in its foreground, along with a brass band and many dignitaries of the city, the kneeling shape of a wretched dock-worker who had repented of his meanness too late?
We handle them as fast as they swing them in from the mill dock." "Yump in an' do somedings yourself," Kjellin growled. "Don't stand roundt like a young leddy." "D'ye mean you want I should mule shingles round in this hold like a longshoreman?" "Sure! Ve got to get to sea Sunday morning, und every liddle bit helps." "Well, then you'll get along without my little bit.
The latter had often pointed out to Johnnie that it did not cost anything to be either polite or cheerful, and the boy liked being both. Why was Big Tom neither? "Mister Barber, what does 'Birds of a feather flock t'-gether' mean?" he inquired. Barber had on a white collar and his best coat. His shoes were laced, too. This was the Sunday-morning longshoreman that was the pleasantest to look at.
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