hellions in the days of your life?â
âTwas the nine-thirty boat, and we landed and walked up-town through Twenty-second Street, Tobin being without his hat.
On a street comer, standing under a gas-light and looking over the elevated road at the moon, was a man. A long man he was, dressed decent, with a segar between his teeth, and I saw that his nose made two twists from bridge to end, like the wriggle of a snake. Tobin saw it at the same time, and I heard him breathe hard like a horse when you take the saddle off. He went straight up to the man, and I went with him.
âGood-night to ye,â Tobin says to the man. The man takes out a segar and passes the compliments, sociable.
âWould ye hand us your name,â asks Tobin, âand let us look at the size of it? It may be our duty to become acquainted with ye.â
âMy name,â says the man, polite, âis FriedenhausmanâMaximus G. Friedenhausman.â
â âTis the right length,â says Tobin. âDo you spell it with an âoâ anywhere down the stretch of it?â
âI do not,â says the man.
âCan ye spell it with an âoâ?â inquires Tobin, turning anxious.
âIf your conscience,â says the man with the nose, âis indisposed toward foreign idioms ye might, to please yourself, smuggle the letter into the penultimate syllable.â
â âTis well,â says Tobin. âYeâre in the presence of Jawn Malone and Daniel Tobin.â
â âTis highly appreciated,â says the man, with a bow. âAnd now since I cannot conceive that ye would hold a spelling bee upon the street corner, will ye name some reasonable excuse for being at large?â
âBy the two signs,â answers Tobin, trying to explain, âwhich ye display according to the reading of the Egyptian palmist from the sole of me hand, yeâve been nominated to offset with good luck the lines of trouble leading to the nigger man and the blonde lady with her feet crossed in the boat, besides the financial loss of a dollar sixty-five, all so far fulfilled according to Hoyle.â
The man stopped smoking and looked at me.
âHave ye any amendments,â he asks, âto offer to that statement, or are ye one too? I thought by the looks of ye ye might have him in charge.â
âNone,â says I to him, âexcept that as one horseshoe resembles another so are ye the picture of good luck as predicted by the hand of me friend. If not, then the lines of Dannyâs hand may have been crossed, I donât know.â
âThereâs two of ye,â says the man with the nose, looking up and down for the sight of a policeman. âIâve enjoyed your company immense. Good-night. â
With that he shoves his segar in his mouth and moves across the street, stepping fast. But Tobin sticks close to one side of him and me at the other.
âWhat!â says he, stopping on the opposite sidewalk and pushing back his hat; âdo ye follow me? I tell ye,â he says, very loud, âIâm proud to have met ye. But it is my desire to be rid of ye. I am off to me home.â
âDo,â says Tobin, leaning against his sleeve. âDo be off to your home. And I will sit at the door of it till ye come out in the morning. For the dependence is upon ye to obviate the curse of the nigger man and the blonde lady and the financial loss of the one-sixty-five.â
â âTis a strange hallucination,â says the man, turning to me as a more reasonable lunatic. âHadnât ye better get him home?â
âListen, man,â says I to him. âDaniel Tobin is as sensible as he ever was. Maybe he is a bit deranged on account of having drink enough to disturb but not enough to settle his wits, but he is no more than following out the legitimate path of his superstitions and predicaments, which I will explain to you.â With that I relates