The palace of the King of the Bowery is not a very imposing building. On the ground floor a saloon, overhead a lodging house, it serves the two purposes of refreshing and resting the subjects of his majesty. For two weighty reasons the saloon has always been the Mecca of the curious. It is, so to speak, the entrance-gate to Chinatown and, also, the official address of Chuck Connors.
Besides the transient crowds of nightly visitors to Chinatown, the saloon is often honored by calls from literary personages. For some time, it seemed to be the proper thing for writers of a certain genre to come there to study types.
Jackey Doodles. Barney Flynn. Jumbo. "Chuck" Connors. A typical group at Barney Flynn's side door.
Right here let me say, that, without wishing to discredit any writer of dialect stories, I have yet to find the story which presents the idiom of the Bowery as it is spoken. I have taken the trouble to compare different stories—each one guaranteed to be a true and realistic study of the underworld—written by different writers and the discrepancies in the dialect are flagrant.
One, throughout his entire tale, puts "youse" in the mouth of his most important character. The other only uses "ye." One spells the question: "Do you?"; the other phrases it: "D'you?"
Perhaps this also applies to other stories written in New England or Southern dialect, but whether it does or not, it seems to be a case of "you pays your money and you takes your choice."
I have yet to see the "low life" story which is not studded with "cul" and "covey." Take my advice and do not use this form of address on the Bowery. They would not understand it and, therefore, would feel insulted.
Also, the men of the East Side are not so lacking in gallantry as to call their lady loves "bundles" and other similar names.
Then, in the matter of emphatic language the writers are far from hitting the target. The favorite phrase is "Wot'ell," which is a hundred leagues removed from the distinct utterance with which this dainty bit of conversation is used by a Bowery boy in a moment of rhetorical flight.