It was represented that coffee and cakes could be obtained for the trifling sum of ten cents, that corned-beef hash was a specialty, and that as for Bob's chicken soup it was the best in the Bowery. Apparently attracted by this statement, Mr. Ricketty sat down, and intimated to a large young man who presented himself that he was willing to try the chicken soup together with a cup of coffee.
The young man lifted his head and shouted vociferously toward the ceiling, "Chicken in de bowl, draw one!"
"My friend," said Mr. Ricketty, "what a noble pair of lungs you've got and what a fine quality of voice."
The young man grinned cheerfully.
"I am tempted to lavish a cigar on you," continued Mr. Ricketty, "in token of my regard for those lungs. A cigar represents to me a large amount of capital, but it shall all be yours if you'll just step upstairs and see if my old friend, Ike Buxbaum, is in."
"He aint in," said the waiter.
"How do you know?"
"I jist seen him goin' down de street."
"Who runs his business when he adjourns to the street."
"Dunno. Guess it's his wife."