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"Ain't you going to do it alone?" queried Nick Sammel, in wonder, not unmingled with a suspicion that Joe would not be as easy to handle as anticipated. "I I've got a a heartburn," came lamely from Sagger. "It come on me all at onct. If it wasn't fer that I'd do him up all alone." "You're a fraud, and you haven't any heart-burn!" cried Joe. "You're afraid, that's all.
But no attention was paid to his words, and over the side of the bridge he went, to fall a distance of a dozen feet and land in a pile of dirt, with one lower limb in a puddle of dirty water. "Down he goes!" he heard, in the voice of Nick Sammel. "Wonder how he likes it?" "You're a mean, low crowd!" cried Joe, as he stood up.
He was just passing the entrance to a factory yard when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and wheeling around found himself confronted by Jack Sagger, Nick Sammel, and half a dozen others, who had gathered to see their leader "polish off" the country boy. "What do you want?" demanded Joe, sharply. "You know well enough wot I want, country!" exclaimed Jack Sagger. "I do not."
Drew on an errand that took him to a neighborhood occupied largely by wholesale provision houses. As Joe left the hotel Jack Sagger saw him. "Dere's dat country jay now," said Sagger. "Now's your time to git square on him, Jack," said Nick Sammel, his crony. "Right you are, Nick. Come on." "Going to follow him?" "Yes, till I git him where I want him." "Going to mash him?" "Sure.
"Here's a barrel of water knocked over and everything in a mess. You've been skylarking, too. I'm going to have you locked up!" The watchman made a dash after the boys and the crowd scattered in all directions. Sagger received a crack on the shoulder that lamed him for a week, and Sammel tripped and went down, taking the skin off of the end of his nose. "Oh, me nose!" he moaned.
"What are you doing around these buildings?" A watchman had come on the scene, with a lantern in one hand and a heavy club in the other. "We ain't doin' nuthin," said one of the boys. "Maybe you're the gang that stole that lumber a couple of nights ago," went on the watchman, coming closer. "Ain't touched yer lumber," growled Jack Sagger. "We're after anudder feller wot hid in here," said Sammel.
"I've got some mortar in me eye!" screamed Jack Sagger, dancing around in pain. "Oh, me eye is burned out!" "I'm wet to de skin!" said Nick Sammel, with a shiver. "Oh, say, but it's dead cold, ain't it?" Waiting to hear no more, Joe ran along the scaffolding and then leaped through a window of the unfinished building.
A person goes into a brickmaker's field to view his clamp, and buy a load of bricks; he resolves to see them loaded, because he would have good ones; but not understanding the goods, and seeing the workmen loading them where they were hard and well burnt, but looked white and grey, which, to be sure, were the best of the bricks, and which perhaps they would not have done if he had not been there to look at them, they supposing he understood which were the best; but he, in the abundance of his ignorance, finds fault with them, because they were not a good colour, and did not look red; the brickmaker's men took the hint immediately, and telling the buyer they would give him red bricks to oblige him, turned their hands from the grey hard well-burnt bricks to the soft sammel half-burnt bricks, which they were glad to dispose of, and which nobody that had understood them would have taken off their hands.
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