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Updated: May 18, 2025
As he was walking away, he strolled up to the two men he had heard talking. "Were you fellows in Cosne?" "Sure." "Did you know a fellow named Fuselli?" "I dunno...." "Sure, you do," said the other man. "You remember Dan Fuselli, the little wop thought he was goin' to be corporal." "He had another think comin'." They both laughed. Andrews walked off, vaguely angry.
Why, the rag would have the police arrest Edyth arrest her for " "Well," demanded a sharp, aggressively pitched voice, "what for you make-a da blame, eh? Da cops pinch-a Spatola, and for why, eh? Because he's da wop, da Ginney, da Dago and got-a no friends."
That's it, good bird! Give it to him! See, Jan! What a fight!" "Oh, ah!" said Jan, now comprehending the situation. "Oh, ah! Sure yonder is a snake, and a whopper, too. Ne'er fear, Truey! Trust my secretary. He'll give the rascal a taste of his claws. There's a lick well put in! Another touch like that, and there won't be much life left in the scaly villain. There again, wop!"
Jimmie turned discretion conquering temporary vengeance, and started in the opposite direction. He stopped long enough to say, as he rubbed his bruised jaw, "Well, Wop, ye ain't like to see much more of 'im around dis dump neither, an' ye ain't likely to see yerself neither, if ye do too much talkin' wid de cops."
"It will keep seepin' through," he said, "and wop! Suddenly the whole bulkhead'll go." "Don't get caught," replied Dan. "Give us three more hours, chief. Oh, I say, there's not a drop getting into the fire room yet? Thank God for that!" "For what?" He faced about quickly and looked into the eyes of Virginia Howland. She was pale, but her face was brave.
"As good as a thousand feet of film," says I. "Kip must have had some of this fun himself. Here comes a wop for us. There! Great, eh?" I hope I made it convincin'; but, as a matter of fact, I had to force the enthusiasm a bit.
The old fellow had the habit of talking all the time, like a child; he would talk to his helper, to himself, to his tools. He would call these tools by obscene and terrifying names but with entire friendliness and good humour. "Get in there, you son-of-a-gun!" he would say to his pick. "Come along here, you wop!" he would say to his car.
"We were wondering how you could wear it coming up on the Subway. I've found that the wind blows them all to pieces in my car. Who's the wop? From Pittsburg? Oh, is that so? He reminds me so much of a very dear friend of mine that was sent up for life. No, I suppose it's not the same party, though they are as alike as two peas. No, I don't care to meet him.
I meets this wop and he certainly lands me in right. He gives me a twenty case note and the card. I got the twenty changed and plants ten of it in the Lisle Thread Bank, making up my mind that no matter what happened the day would not be ill-spent. "I plays his tip at 8 to 1 on the first race and ketches. Out of that ninety I plant forty.
You get this, you "blanket-stiff", you "husky", or "wop", or whatever you are you disinherited of the earth, you proletarians who have only your labor-power to sell, you weak and sickly ones who are condemned to elimination?
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