Do we have romances on t' East Side!” and Chucky's voice was vibrant with the scorn my doubts provoked. “Do we have romances! Well, I don't t'ink! Say! there's days when we don't have nothin' else.”

At this crisis Chucky called for another glass; did it without invitation. This last spoke of and betrayed a sense of injury.

“Let me tell youse,” continued Chucky, “an' d' yarn don't cost you a cent, see! how Dinky Pete sends Jimmy d' barkeep back to his wife. It's what I calls romantic for a hundred plunks.

“Not that Jimmy ever leaves her, for that matter; that is, he don't leave her for fair! But he's sort o' organisin' for d' play when Dinky Pete puts d' kybosh on d' notion, an' wit' that Jimmy don't chase at all, see!

“Jimmy d' barkeep is some soft in d' nut, see! Nit, he ain't really got w'eels; ain't bad enough for d' bug house; but he's a bit funny in his cocoa—mostly be way of bein' dead stuck on himself.

“An' bein' weak d' way I says, Jimmy is a high roller for clothes; always sports a w'ite t'ree-sheet, wit' a rock blazin' in d' centre, big enough to trip a dog. An' say! his necktie's a dream, an' his hat's d' limit!

“What's a t'ree-sheet? an' what's a rock? I don't want to give you no insultin' tips, but on d' square! youse ought to take a toim at night school. Why! a t'ree-sheet is his shirt, an' d' rock I names is Jimmy's spark! Of course, d' spark ain't d' real t'ing; only a rhinestone; but it goes in d' Bend all d' same for a 2-carat headlight.

“Jimmy makes a tidy bit of dough, see! He gets, mebby it's fifteen bones a week, an' I makes no doubt he shakes down d' bar for ten more, which is far from bad graft. So it ain't s'prisin' one day when Jimmy gets it stuck in his frizzes he'll be married.

“Jimmy's Bundle is all right at that. Her name's Annie, an' she's a proper straight chip. An' that ain't no song an' dance; square as a die she was. An' a bute! She was d' pick of d' Bowery crush, an' don't youse doubt it.

“Well, Jimmy an' Annie goes on wit' their courtships, I takes it, same as if dey lives on Fift' Avenoo. Annie's a mil'ner, an' while she don't have money to t'row to d' boids, she woiks for enough so it's as good as a stan'-off on livin', which is all her hand calls for an' all she asts. If she don't quit winner after trimmin' hats a week, at any rate she don't get in d' hole, see!

“Oh, yes; she an' Jimmy gets action on d' sights. Now an' then it's Coney Island; then ag'in it's a front seat at d' People's; or mebby if some of d' squeeze has a dance, dey pulls on their skates an' steps in on d' spiel. An' say! as a spieler Annie's a wonder, an' don't youse forget it. I has d' woid for it from me own Rag, an' when it comes to pickin' out a dancer, you can trust me Rag to be dead on in a minute. D' loidy can do a dizzy stunt or two on a wax floor herself when it comes to a show-down.

“But about me romance. Jimmy has chased around wit' Annie, say it's t'ree mont's. An' all this time his strong play is voylets, see! Annie is gone on voylets, so each evenin' Jimmy toins in on Dinky Pete, who sells poipers an' peanuts, an' some of this hard, bum candy you breaks your teet's on. Dinky also deals a little flower game, wit' about a 5-cent limit, an' that's what gets Jimmy. Just as I says, each evenin' Jimmy sticks in a nickel for a bunch of voylets at Dinky's an' sends some kid—Dinky's joint is a great hang-out for d' kids—to take 'em up to Annie.

“An' them voylets tickles Annie to death.

“At last all goes well, an' Jimmy an' Annie gets spliced. An' it's all right at that! Me Rag, who calls on 'em, says Jimmy an' Annie's d' happiest ever, an' gettin 'd' boss run for their money.

“It's about a year when Annie don't do a t'ing but have a kid. At foist Jimmy likes it, an' lets on it's d' racket of his career. But after a while Jimmy gets chilly—sort o' gets sore on d' kid. Me Rag gives me a pointer it's mostly Annie's fault. She stars d' kid too heavy, an' it makes Jimmy feel like a deuce in a bum deck; makes him t'ink he ain't so strong—ain't so warm as he was. An' it toins out' Annie, bein' always busy monkeyin' wit 'd' young-one, an' givin' Jimmy d' languid eye, d' nex' news you get, Jimmy is back on d' street when he is off watch, tryin' to pipe off some fun.

“I never knows where she catches on wit' Jimmy, but it ain't no time when one of them razzle-dazzle blondes has him on d' string. She's doin' d' grand at that, see! an' givin' him d' haughty stand-off.

“Mebby Jimmy met her on d' street onct or twict, when for d' foist time, Goldie—which is this blonde tart's name—says Jimmy can come an' see her.

“It's been mont's since Jimmy's done d' flower act at Dinkey Pete's. But d' sucker t'inks it's d' night of his life, an' so he chases in an' goes ag'inst Pete's counter for a bunch.

“This Dinky Pete's a dead queer little mug. He's a short, sawed-off mark, wit' a humpy back an' a bum lamp. But you can gamble your life Î Dinky Pete's heart is on straight, whether his back is or not.

“It's be chanct I'm in Dinky Pete's meself d' time Jimmy is out to meet this blonde mash. Now, at d* time I ain't onto Jimmy's curves; I don't tumble to d' play till a week later, when me Rag puts me on.

“W'at was I doin' in Dinky Pete's? Flowers? Nit; not on your life! Naw; I wants to change me luck. I'd got d' gaff at draw poker d' night before, an' I'm layin' for Dinky Pete for to rub his hump on d' sly. Sure! Youse'll have luck out of sight. Only you mustn't let d' humpback guy get on. If he notices you rubbin' his hump it'll give youse bad luck, see!

“Jimmy comes in, an' at foist, be force of habit, I s'spose, he's goin' to plunge on voylets. But he t'inks of Annie, an' he can't stand for it. Wit' that, Jimmy shifts his brush an' tells Dinky Pete to toin him out some roses.

“'An' make 'em d' reddest in d' joint, see!' says Jimmy.

“Dinky Pete's got his mits on some voylets, but when Jimmy says 'roses' Dinky comes to a stan' still.

“' W'at! roses?' says Dinky Pete, an' his ratty eyes—one of 'em on d' hog, as I states—looks dead sharp at Jimmy. 'Roses?' he repeats.

“'That's what I says!' is d' way Jimmy comes back.

“' Better take voylets,' says Dinky, an' he stops foolin' wit 'd' flowers an' gives Jimmy d' gimlet eye.

“'Nit,' declares Jimmy; * I'm dead onto me needs. Give me roses.'

“'But roses won't last,' says Dinky, an' his look is sharp an' soft an' sad all at onct. 'Roses won't last, an' that's for fair,' says Dinky, 'while voylets is stayers. Better take voylets, Jimmy!'

“But Jimmy gets sullen an' won't have no voylets, see! An' he swings an' rattles wit' Dinky that he wants roses—roses red as blood.

“'Roses has thorns,' goes on Dinky, still holdin' his lamps on Jimmy in d' same queer way; 'you don't want roses, Jimmy; you just t'inks you want roses! Be a square bloke, Jimmy; be yourself an' take voylets!'

“An' I'm damned!” declares Chucky, “if Jimmy don't begin to look like a whipped kid, an' d' foist t'ing I knows, he welches on roses, grabs off a bunch of voylets big enough to make a salad, an' goes chasin' home to Annie. Me Rag is there when Jimmy pours in.

“Say! It's d' finish of d' blonde! She ain't in it! Me rag, on d' quiet, gives Annie d' chin-chin of her existence, an' shows her Jimmy ain't gettin' a square deal. An' Annie—who, for all she's nutty about d' kid, is a dead wise fowl just d' same—takes a tumble, an' from that time she makes d' bettin' even money on* bot 'd' young-one an' Jimmy. D' last time I sees Jimmy he stops to tell me that Annie's a peach, an' d' kid's a wonder. An' he's lookin' like a nine-times winner himself. Now don't youse call that a romance for Dinky Pete to get onto Jimmy's game so quick, an' stickin' to him till he takes d' voylet steer? Ain't it a romance? Well! I should kiss a pig!”