“Who’s Foolish Jim?”
“There he is,” pointing to a boy leaning against the wall of the glass-house, aloof from the rest.
“Why do you call him Foolish Jim?”
“‘Cause he’s such a fool he won’t lie, swear nor steal; but we are dabsters at all three.”
“What makes him so much worse dressed than the rest?”
“‘Cause he’s a fool and won’t steal. Now we all get one thing or another, meat, fish, vegetables; and we’re going down to the brick yards to have a cook and a real tuck-out, but he’s had no breakfast, nor won’t get any, till he runs some errand for the glass-house folks, or gets some horse to hold, or some little job of work, just ‘cause he won’t steal nor beg either. If you’d a dropt that handkerchief on the ground and he’d a picked it up, instead of putting it in his pocket, he’d a run after you crying, ‘Mister you’ve lost your handkerchief.’ Now there’s no work to be had by those who are fools enough to work, so he’s just starving by inches.”
“And to help him out of the world you keep him with you to make sport of him.”
“That’s so, as much as we think will do, but we can’t go but about so far, ‘cause he’s strong as a giant and he’s got a temper of his own, though it takes an awful sight to git it up; but when its up you’d better stand clear, he’ll take any two of us and knock our heads together. When the glassmen have a heavy crate to lift, they always sing out for Jim.”
“Ask him to come here.”
“Jim, here’s a cove wants yer.”