THE NUGGET LIBRARY. .
although ‘he himself was from Skibbereen, County. Cork.
Mulcahey was ot what: you would call a handsome man.
Indeed, some of his enemies had declared that he re-
sembled the late lamented Mr. Crowley, the chimpanzee.
Whether this was tr#e or not the reader:must judge.
Dennis was a heavy-set man, with a head that might
easily have been mistaken for an ostrich’s egg, but fora
slight fringe of ginger-colored hair that ornamented the
lower part of it, like the fur trimming around a dude’s
His face was broad, and the color of a rare porterhouse
steak, the center of-which was slightly relieved by a
small protuberance which he was pleased to call a nose, a
member that looked as though it had had its back broken,
elevated and purple at the tip, like a damson plum stand-
ing upon end. ,
His eyes were’ small and wide apart, and his mouth
could not have beenan inch wider without sacrificing
the top of his head. .
But his neck whiskers were his chief charm.
They were the color of taffy, and bristled to all points
of the compass like the rays of the sun in a ten-cent
chromo. , wf
If they had been on top of his head instead of under his
jaw they might have been taken for a halo.
Mr. Mulcahey was no ordinary man.
In fact he was a man to be feared and respected.
In other words, he was a janitor.
Janitor of a flat-house in Harlem.
That means a great deal.
If he had been simply. the president of a railroad ora
U. S. Senator this history of him would never have been
written. . . :
But he was a janitor.
Like the silver pillar of society that he was, he oc-
cupied the basement.
At the time this story opens Mr. Mulcahey sat alone in
his best room, his feet, clad in red woolen socks, elevated
upon the “peeany,” as he called it, pulling away com-
fortably ata cigar, which he claimed was a genuine “ Kay
Probably it was. —_
For the odor of it loosened the’ nails-in the .wood-work,
and caused the cat in the back yard to put her head into
the sewer for a change of breath.
Notwithstanding the apparent comfort he was getting
out of the “seegair,” however, it could be easily seen that
he was ill at ease. — , : : :
He was evidently waiting for some one, for every once
in awhile he would consulta Waterbury watch, which
he had sat up most of the night before to wind, and mut-
“A quarther to tin,” he said at last, “and me darlint
woife not home yet. The nixt toime she do be goin’ toa
christenin’ pairty wid that Faynian av a furrest-flure
> tinint, bedad she’ll shtay at home.”
.’ Hardly -bad he finished his soliloquy, however, when
the door opened, and in walked the missing lady..
Mrs..Mulcahey wasa stout lady, with a form likea
feather-bed tied. inthe middle. :
She was‘dark,‘and when she. powdered up on state oc-
casions she resembled an overdone doughnut rolled in
flour. ‘ '
Her hair was jet black, slightly sprinkled with gray,
and grew down to within an inch of a pair of heavy eye-
As ageneral thing she “wore the breeches,” but when
sho went about so far Dennis was in the habit of bringing
her up with a round turn. ,
Or, to use his own words, he ‘‘put his fut down, d’ye
On the present occasion she vas clad ina flaming red
dress, cut rather low inthe neck, and a bonnet that
4ooked like a cheap flower-show. /
She had evidently been enjoying herself, for she wore a
gtin like a Chinese god ina tea-store, and the moment
Dennis caught har eye she winked in a manner that would
have given a cast-iron dog the hydrophobia.
This made Dennis more angry thanever, and he
frowned. 4 .
Tossing her shaw on to the piano she said:
“Och, but it’s toired Oi am.”
Her husband scowled at her.
“Faith, an’ Oid be toired, too, if Oi’d been gallyvantin’
about wid that murdherin’. Faynian since two P. M. this
| afternoon.’ “Phat:kept yez all this toime, Biddy ?”..
“Oh, thin, an’ it’s a haired question ye'do' be:askin’
at all, at all, Dinny, for it’s an au fay toime that I’ve been
Dennis’ feet came down upon the floor with a bang, and
he turned to face his better-half, who had sunk down upon
“A phat?” he demanded.
““An au fay toime.”
“ An’ phat tke divvil’s an au fay toime ?” :
“Wurra, Dinny, darlint, and it’s yersilf that don’t be
understhandin’ Frinch.” .
“Faith an’ Oi don’t, an’ blissed if Oi want to, ayther,
if that’s phat it’s loike.”
“Well, it manes a stoilish toime.”
“ Ah, ha,” grunted, Dennis.
“Ye see, when we left O’Flaherty’s, phere the baby was
christened, Mr. McMannus axed me was Oi hungry, an’ Oi
axed him,wud a duck shwim.” An’ he said, ‘All roight,
we'll go have a collation.’ ” ;
“A phat?” demanded Mr. Mulcahey, in horror.
Then Mr. Mulcahey rose to his full height.
He was mad all the way through, and there was blood
in his eye. i
“Mrs. Mulcahey,” he hissed, “is it possibls that ye’ve
fallen so low as to tell this to me face? If Oi tho't——”
“Be aisy, Dinnis, darlint, till Oi explain,” his wife in-
terrupted. “A collation’s a boite to ate.”
“Oh,” and he sank back into his chair.
‘“Yis, we wint to a caffay.”
“A caffay—a resterrong.”
“Well, whoy don’t yez spake Unoited States? Anny
man wud think yez were some furrin countess from the
double-j’inted wurreds ye.do be foirin’ at wan at all.”
“Te, he, he!” giggled Mrs. Mulcahey.
“Wal, phat’s ther matther now?”
“Phat you said, Dinny.” ,
“Wal, phat did Oi say ?”
“It wasn’t phat yez said, but it remoinded:me-of phat
Mr. McMannus said.” Phe kg
“Phat did he say?”
“He said Oi ought to be.a quane or duchess.”,
Now Mr. Mulcahey’s temper was up.
He fairly frothed at the mouth.
“He did, did be?” roared the janitor. “Faith an’ it’s
precious lovin’ ye must have got wid yer au fays an’ yer
caffays, an’ yer collations! The murdherin’ gossoon!
Oi'll taych him something that’ll do ’im more good than
collations if he puts his ugly mug about here again !”.; :
“But, Dinny——” .
“Out wud yez!” roared the janitor. “Oi’ll hear noth-
Then Mrs. Mulcahey got mad.
Rising and shaking her mammoth red fist in her. hus-
band’s face she screeched : ee
“Howld yer jaw, Dinnis Mulcahey! Oihave the flure!
Oi want yez to know that Mr. MeMannus isn’t haf as. ugly
as ye2’d be makin’ him out. . He’s——” a
But here Dennis regained his courage, and rising also
shook his fist savagely.
“Mrs. Mulcahey,” he roared, “do ye dare ter praise that
thafe to me face? That bow-legged, woild-oyed crathur,
wid his chin whiskers that looks for all the wurreld loike
a Billy-goat! Oi’ll ate. him, that’s phat Oi’! do.”
And with that he rushed out of the room.
McMannus, it will be as well to state, was a fiery agita-
tor who occupied the first floor.
Like most agitators, he was a loud-mouthed: blow-hard,
that talked a great deal but never did anything.
He was always talking about fighting, but hadn’t us
much courage as a sheep. . wes .
McMannus had a wife and several children, all of whom
were deathly afraid of him, and he spent all-the time he
had to spare from his agitating in courting the janitor’s
spans eo De emoaaner eM
as et wes