Arthur Sullivant Hoffman

“ Tim answered in disgust, "an' ye so drunk ye couldn't tell a tug whistle from a trolley-car. An' annyways, it waz."
"Well," replied Moran, "it just shows what fool plans a woman makes whin there's no man to keep her sinsible. ”

“ But me wits was workin' agin be this time, an' better than iver. Says I to mesilf, 'He's either crazy or drunk, or ilse he ain't. If he's crazy, shoot him. If he's drunk, shoot him. An' if he ain't, shoot him. Or anny ways, git the drop on him. There's but two things for me to do—wan of thim is to git out of here, an' the other wan is to git out of here quick! The poet is drunk enough to prove an alibi, an' annyways he couldn't git out of the house if you waz to start him on a toboggan-slide. ”

“ We waz nayther of us givin' anny heed to the poet chap, whin he comminced laughin' to himsilf tremindous an' maunderin' some more po'try. It's funny how thim words stuck in me raymimbrance whin I wazn't listenin' to thim:
"'An' no wan shall work for money, an' no wan shall work for fame, but each,' says he, 'each—an' no wan shall work for money—' an' he begun draggin' a chair over the floor an' thin another wan, '—work for money—said it waz a nice thing to come home to, an' called me a pair of thieves—me! ”

“ Thin out of the million things I waz seein', the man's face come workin' out prominint, an' twaz plain he waz thinkin' hard himsilf. Be the same token he waz lookin' worried. I waz thirty-two whin the poet quit talkin', an' whin I was about forty-six, the man says to me all of a sudden, so quick it made me jump:
"'Moran!' says he, me hair standin' up on tiptoes at him knowin' me name, 'Moran, the frind that saved me from thim ruffians down on the Bowery last summer! I niver knew ye. Ye have no need to rob my house!' he says. 'If ye wanted money, why didn't ye come to me? ”

“ It's only whin they git rich enough to starve as a poet that they can afford to let it grow long. An' such of thim as sells enough po'try to the magazines to live on it ivery other week or so, keeps it long to prove they're poets in spite of the ividence aginst thim,' he says.
"'Ye're Irish,' says I.
"'I'm drunk,' says he. 'I always talk bist whin I'm drunk, an' thin I can't raymimber it whin I'm sober.' An' he begun makin' tearful sounds agin. ”

“ Sure, Tim, thim driss-suits is queer things. I wonder how folks iver waz so bad, the divil waz allowed to invint thim at all. Ye notice he goes naked himsilf. An' tight, is it? The vests of thim is intinded to fit ye under the skin instid of outside your shirt. Says I, 'How do ye eat without undrissin'?' 'Ye don't eat,' says Linsky. 'They have dinner-coats for that.' Whin I saw mesilf in the glass, it waz like lookin' at a big, black doughnut with legs to it an' a white hole in the middle. But I rinted the driss-suit an' wint home to practise. ”

“ Be all the saints, there waz two women standin' there, an old wan an' a young wan, with their hats on, an' each of thim lookin' more surprised an' sorrowful than the other! It waz the poet they waz lookin' at mostly, an' I raymimber feelin' kindly to thim for it. ”

“ Here's lookin' at ye.'
"He waz so sad be this time it made me own liquor taste bad, like they waz tears in it. 'I'll be watchin' him close,' thinks I to mesilf. 'Be the time that wan drink works in to where his thoughts waz intinded to come from, he's like to die of grief. The poor young fool, he oughht niver to be after touchin' it at all.'
"But he didn't git no worse to speak of, an' pretty soon I begun gittin' interisted in his po'try mesilf, an' it wazn't many drinks after that afore i waz recitin' him some things I knew whin I waz a lad. ”

“ Whin I had worked me way, cautious, across the nixt roof, I come to a man sittin' flat on it, leanin' aginst a chimney, with his legs stretched out as far as his toes, an' be all that waz amazin', he waz in one of thim driss-suits like me own! ”

“ Wan of the things they lift waz different kinds of liquor, enough to make sinsible people of all the fools, to say nothin' of makin' what sinsible people they is foolish. I tried some of those that waz new to me, holdin' him back from havin' too much. Thin we filled me grip an' wan we found for him an' all our pockets widout bulgin' thim too much, an' thin I says to him, kind-like:
"'I think we will be goin' home now.' says I, buttonin' up me vest an' makin' tidy to pass the Eldeane people like gintlemen. ”

“ Ye've soiled it now—all soiled. Permit me,' he says, an' begun fussin' with it dainty, me feelin' foolish. 'There,' says he, pattin' it with his hand, an' standin' back to look at me. 'There.' says he, proud an' smilin'. 'Excipt the spots,' he says, 'excipt the spots—the spots.'
"He waz losin' interist agin, an" begun lookin' at the chimney, but I pointed to the hole. ”

“ It will be makin' ye feel better.'
"He come to his feet, mostly be himsilf. 'Oh, I'm all right,' he says, 'I'm all right. I waz just feelin' sad-like.' Thin he says, leanin' over to whisper it, 'Poets is queer,' says he, mysterious. ”