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Incredible as it seemed, neither face lost its repose; he dared not smile, and the young woman did not care to. There was something familiar to his memory in the oval face, but this was no time for a diligent search. "Hey, miss," yelled one of the newsboys, "you're t'rowin' your money away. He's a fake; he ain't no statoo seller. He's doing it for a joke!"
Wan av us'll pass the wurrd to the room an' we shtart the divil an' all av a shine laughin' an' crackin' on an' t'rowin' our boots about.
"Still you were thinking about it," said Richling, with a twinkle. "Ah! ha! ha! Indeed I wasn', an' ye needn' be t'rowin' anny o' yer slyness on me. Ye know ye'd have no self-respect fur me. No; now ye know ye wuddent, wud ye?" "Why, Mrs. Riley, of course we would. Why why not?" He stood in the door-way, about to take his leave.
Wan av us'll pass the wurrd to the room an' we shtart the divil an' all av a shine laughin' an' crackin' on an' t'rowin' our boots about.
"I'll come up whenever you want me and I can get away, Maggie, an' next time I'll bring you more comfort, I hope. Good-bye." "Och, darlin'! T'row a kiss, Billy. Look, Aileen, at the kisses me b'y's t'rowin' yer!" she exclaimed delightedly; and Billy, in the exuberance of his joy that tears were things of the past, continued to throw kisses after the lady till she disappeared down the street.
At two o'clock in the morning she could stand it no longer and she went over and awakened Blinky Scott, much to that young gentleman's disgust, who couldn't see why any woman need make such a fuss about a kid. He told her laconically that "Chimmie was pinched fur t'rowin' de bones." She heard with a sinking heart and went home to her own room to walk the floor all night and sob.
'Thin I knew that man for the Dublin dock-rat he was wan av the bhoys that made the lessee av Silver's Theatre gray before his time wid tearin' out the bowils av the benches an' t'rowin' thim into the pit. So I passed the wurrud that I knew when I was in the Tyrone an' we lay in Dublin. "I don't know who 'twas," I whispers, "an' I don't care, but anyways I'll knock the face av you, Tim Kelly."
Please don' you go t'rowin' nuffin to de sharks, not 'roun' dese waters, anyhow." "Why?" asked Stuart in return, smiling at the grave face of the negro steward on board the steamer taking him from Porto Rico to Jamaica. His stay at Porto Rico had been brief, for he found a telegram awaiting him from Fergus, bidding him hurry at once to Kingston.
'Have ye not lost him? sez Vulmea, wipin' the sweat on him; 'Let's ha' done quick! 'Quick ut is, sez Kiss t'rowin' him the kyard; an' ut fell face up on his knee Black Jack! "Thin they all cackled wid laughin'. 'Duty thrippence, sez wan av thim, 'an' damned cheap at that price! But I cud see they all dhrew a little away from Vulmea an' lef' him sittin' playin' wid the kyard.
Wot you wanter yell fer?" "You mind your own business and do as you're told!" said Helena tartly. "Go in there and stay with the Patriarch." "Sure," said the Flopper, grinning a little now. "Sure t'ing but youse needn't get on yer ear about it. Cheer up, mabbe de Doc'll be out to-night, an' if he don't hear youse yellin' himself will I tell him youse are out on de beach t'rowin' a fit?"
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