(Annals of The Bend)
YOUSE can soak your super,” said Chucky, “some dubs has luck! I've seen marks who could fall into d' sewer, see! an' come out wit' a bunch of lilacs in each mit.
“Nit; it wasn't all luck wit' Joe Dubuque. His breakin' out of hock that time is some luck, but mostly 'cause Joe himself is a dead wise guy an* onto his job. Tell youse about it? In a secont—in a hully second! Just say 'gin fizz!' to d' barkeep an' I'll begin.
“Never mind d' preeliminaries, as d' story writers says, but Joe's in jail, see! Joe win out ten spaces for touchin' a farmer for his bundle. Was it a wad? D' roll Joe gets is big enough to choke a cow—'leven t'ousand plunks, if it's a splinter.
“Wherefore, as I relates, Joe gets ten years, an' is layin' in jail while d' gezebo, who's his lawyer, sees can he woik d' high court to give Joe a new trial.
“Joe don't feel no sort chirpy; he's onto it d' high court's dead sure to t'run him down. Then he goes to d' pen to do them ten spaces. An' onct there, wit' all that time ahead, he sees his finish all right, all right. He might as well be a lifer.
“So Joe puts it up he'll break himself out. Joe's goil comes every day to see him. Say! she's a bute, Joe's Rag is; d' crooks calls her 'Wild Willie,' 'cause now an' then she toins dopey an' acts like she's got doves in her eaves. But anyhow she's on d' square wit' Joe, an' sticks to him like a postage stamp.
“Joe sends out d' woid be his Rag about what he's goin' to do, to d' push outside; an' tells 'em how to help. Yes; d' job is put up as fine as silk. Every mark knows what he's to do.
“Now, here's d' trick dey toins; here's how Joe beats d' jail for good.
“It comes round to d' night. Joe's cell—it's a big cell, a reg'lar corker, wit' gas into it—is on d' fort' corridor. D' guard comes round at 9 o'clock orderin' out d'lights. Joe's gas is boinin' away to beat d' band, an' Joe is lay in' on his bunk.