Jim Sackley, an Irishman of merited renown, was living in the neighborhood of Lake Street and Western Avenue, when we arrived in Chicago. He had been a sort of self-appointed constable of the town of Cicero, which he said included all the territory west of Western Avenue.

Thompson Brothers at the time were running a general store on Lake Street and, as they were politically inclined, their store seemed to be a gathering place for the worthy aspirants of the neighborhood.

One evening Gordon and I were in the store when Tony McGuel, a gentleman from Cork, came in to announce the death of his wife. We all huddled around him in sympathy, for we had not even heard that she was sick. The surroundings of the scene were made all the more pitiful, as it had taken place just before pay day at the car barns, and he needed a little assistance financially, so Hiram and Harvey Thompson headed the subscription list, and soon we had raised quite a respectable sum.

Jim Sackley was there and in just the frame of mind to shed sympathy copiously, for it was said that one of his near relatives had recently passed away and he was in communication, at intervals, with the priest, who was still praying her out of purgatory. Not only this, but Jim, although not an Irishman himself, for as he had said his children were all born in this country, yet he had seen the auld sod and, like Joseph and his kinsmen in Egypt, with a five dollar bill in his hand he fell on Tony's neck and they kissed and hugged like mother and babe.

Of course, they had both been drinking slightly, which made the tears flow more freely, which so affected us all that we pulled out our linen and wiped away the surplus moisture.

After Tony had gone with about $13.00, which Sackley said would only buy the cheapest coffin, Sackley and Harvey Thompson shaved, put on clean shirts, and called at the home to view the corpse and, if necessary, offer prayer, when to their surprise the corpse met them at the door, and said she did not know where Tony was; the last she heard of him he was trying to borrow money to attend a wake down on Canal Street.

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