Well, I knowed his grandfather; an' a dacinter ol' man niver
wint to his jooty wanst a month. Whin he come over to live down be th'
slip, 'twas as good a place as iver ye see. Th' honest men an' honest
women wint as they pleased, an' laid hands on no wan. His boy Jim was
as straight as th' r-roads in Kildare, but he took to dhrink; an',
whin Jack Carey was born, he was a thramp on th' sthreets an' th' good
woman was wurrukin' down-town, scrubbin' away at th' flures in th'
city hall, where Dennehy got her.
"Be that time around th' slip was rough-an'-tumble. It was dhrink an'
fight ivry night an' all day Sundah. Th' little la-ads come together
under sidewalks, an' rushed th' can over to Burke's on th' corner an'
listened to what th' big lads tol' thim. Th' first instruction that
Jack Carey had was how to take a man's pocket handkerchief without his
feelin' it, an' th' nex' he had was larnin' how to get over th' fence
iv th' Reform School at Halsted Sthreet in his stockin' feet.
"He was a thief at tin year, an' th' polis 'd run f'r him if he'd
showed his head.
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