Detective Bob Bridger — page 122: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

DETECTIVE BOB BRIDGER. Se ee 115 “But vat good vould be dat butter ?” “Vat good vould be dat butter, Moses? Vait, vat you tink, vid ordinary boarding-house butter, in de vinter time, at one dollar de pound. It vould revolutionize de busi- ness. Vid kerosene at ten cents a gallon, and Turkish rat poison sheap as street.mud, ve have a prime, genuvine ar- ticle of butter at two cents a pound. mts vould buy. Vat more do you vant?” ‘But it would be poison butter.” “Vait, Moses, vait. De Turkish rat poison kills de taste of de kerosene. De kerosene kills de poison of de Turkish rat poison. Vait. To-day we tried it on three cats, von dog, and von hog. De cats vent to sleep avile, de dog hide avay afew minutes, but de hog, whose stomach vas most like de man, he grunt for more of de butter. And vait, Moses. De hog vat boarded in de next pen, he only smelled it ven he sticks.up his snoot like dis, just as if he wanted to say ven he grunted: ‘Give mesome. I vant some. I’m vaitin’ for it. I vantit! I vantit!’ ” _ Sammy Muggins’ enthusiasm over the patent butter scheme, at this point, brought him to grief. Goucher’s burly bartender, enraged at the noisy conver- sation in the hall-way, had slipped from a side-door from the bar-room in the rear of Moses and Sammy. Moses still held open the door, and Sammy stood facing the street near him. So soon as the bartender perceived that Sammy Muggins was the author of the noise in the hall-way he made a rush for him. At first, as Sammy, with body bent over, and upturned features, in describing the eagerness of the hog to obtain a _ taste of the butter, had squealed out: “I’m vaitin’ for it! I vant it! I vant it!’ the bartender delivered him a tre- mendous kick upon the bent portion of his frame, which sent him flying through the door-way, and upon the side- walk without. A lamp-lighter had just succeeded in lighting a street lamp on the opposite side of the street'as Sammy staggered to his feet. “Fire! De city vas on fire!’ he shrieked, and dashed wildly off toward the Bowery. On the instant a fat policeman passed the door on a dog- trot, brandishing his club, and calling out to the running man to stop. This had only the effect of making the bewildered Jew run the faster, (E( 0} tee | oe comicbooks