CHAPTER V
T. Jefferson Bender had played Skylight.
(Annals of The Bend)
Why, yes,” responded Chucky readily enough, “there's choiches of all sorts, same as there's folks, see! Some does good an' then ag'in there's others that ain't so warm.”
It was rude, cold weather. Because of the bluster and the freezing air without, Chucky had abandoned his customary ale for hot Scotches. These and the barroom's pleasant heat, in contrast with the chill and gusts of the street, served to unfold Chucky's conversational powers. He even waxed philosophical.
“For that matter,” continued Chucky, critically, “there's lots of good lyin' 'round loose. Sometimes it's dead hard to find, but it's there all d' same, if youse is fly enough to pipe it off. An' it ain't all in d' choiches neither. As I states, I'm d' last mug to go knockin' d' choiches, but dey ain't got no corner on d' good of this woild. There is others. D' choices ain't d' only apple on d' tree. Nor yet d' onliest gas jet on 'd chandelier.
“Say!” Chucky went on, after a further taste of the hot Scotch, “on d' level! I'm onto achoich what's got nex' to a bakery, an' what do youse t'ink? Each night d' bakery don't do a t'ing but give every poor hobo who fronts up to d' window a loaf of bread. That's for fair! an 'd' gezebo who runs d' bakery is a Dutch Sheeny at that. Would youse get bread if you was to go chasin' nex' door to d' choich? Nit; t'ree times nit! If you was to go slammin' 'round d! choich makin' a talk for a hand-out, all youse would get would be d' collar, see!