Puck — July 3, 1878 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

THE ROGUE S’ GALLERY. OLD STYLE. = BurGiar, \ Y YX MS N N \ AS w\ WN Sneak Tuer. NEW STYLE. BURGLARY, MORALLY CONSIDERED. Gyrvcer fetched me a card bearing the 2 ) name: 22 LuMtey Stustey Dust. “This,” I thought, ‘is some blawsted Bri- tish aristocrat, who comes to bore me.” How- ever, I admitted him, and he opened fire on me at once, “You don’t remember me,” he said. “But when you were police reporter on the Daily | Slambanger, you knew me well as Jim Dodger.” “Not Dodger the Burglar?” “Yes, sir, and don’t you forget it. Iam that identical party as you've written volumes of history about.” “From your personal appearance, Mr. Dumm," I temarked, “you appear to have gone out of the crib-cracking business. I should rather expect to see a prayer-book in your hand now than a jimmy.” “That's just it! That’s what I've come to make a confession to you about. Don’t I just look nice ?—sleek, like an old cow that couldn’t do nothin’ but chew her cud—eh? Well, in the old times I didn’t look this way. I was rough, and I suppose I carried my sign on my face; for when I went once up-country, to bust a little bank there, the people ran me out of | town before I had got a chance to set to work. They swore the bank would bust itself if my face remained about there any longer. But, in | them times, if /was rough, my family wasn’t. That little wife of mine was as pooty as a peach—and respectable? Why, she had three seal-skin sacques, and diamonds no end. When I was doing time in Sing Sing, she stopped at the Westminster Hotel as “ Mrs. Howard Stuy- vesant;’ and wasn’t she just high-toned ? You bet. ‘Then my little girl. Did you ever see better silk stockings than she wore ?—cardinal- red, with sky-blue clocks! Her Sunday-school teachers said she was just a young angel, all but the wings; and if angels’ wings are to be bought for money, I'm the man to buy them. And when Archbishop McCloskey wanted | you know. clutches of the Methodists, my wife got all the neighbors to subscribe. "Yes, sir, and I had that ship scuttled; all hands, except my agent, drowned, and the money back to me here in New York in less’n two weeks. But all this time I was rough; I was doing time in Sing Sing or somewhere too often to satisfy me; my portrait was in all the Rogues’ Galleries: and I determined to reform —to lead a new life.” “That was a noble resolve,” I remarked. You bet! Well, I just let my hair grow long down my back, shaved close, knocked off my rum, and went to living on oatineal-gruel. I got so fat and oily-looking that when I joined Mr. Slopover’s church, I’m hanged if they didn’t want to run me for deacon. I worked things pretty quiet, and invested money I had in the Sure Pop Security Savings Bank. My appearance was so darn respectable that I was made a Director; and when I mounted a pair of gold-bowed spectacles, they just caved right in and elected me President. ‘There was, as it were, a sort of high-pressure atmosphere of business morality and commercial integrity about my appearance that brought business to the bank. “« Eventually the concern went to smash, as I needn't tell you all the details of how, by hypothecation and rehypothecation, and confusing the books, &c., I bust that bank. Suffice it to say—” “Well?” I asked. “That I got the money. And I've got it now. But it don’t do me any good. The law can’t touch me. I made myself safe from the first. True, I’m under $50,000 bail; but the bail’s straw!” “But about the money?” I inquired, “That's just what I’m coming to. You see, when I used to crack a crib in the old style, we never raked in the whole pile. We com- pounded the matter. Je got a fair stake; the detectives had a divvy, and we turned the rest over to the owners. They were rich and could afford to stand the racket. But in this business I've been robbing the widow and or- who can’t afford the loss. Besides, I felt more money to send a ship-load of Catholic darkeys over to Liberia, to get the natives out of the like a Man in the old times when I risked my life and liberty in the operation. This kind of robbery is too sneakin’! I'm dreamin’ of those poor widows and orphans all the time, People can’t punish me by law, so they howl at me in the streets; and even have torn the clothes off my wife and child. And my asso- ciates—good Lord! they’reall fraudulent bank- rupts or defrauding cashiers, or insurance sharks, or other high-toned sneakin’ robbers of the poor, and my life is getting to be a burden to ine. So I'm going to turn over a new leaf!” “In what direction?” was my natural ques- tion, “I'm going right in again with the old gang. Vl cut off my back-hair, let my moustache grow and dye it. I'll smoke, chew and get drunk. Then I'll take a six-shooter, a club, a bag of tools, and have a whack at some coun- try bank. It'll make me feel a man again! I tell you that fellows like me ought to havea monopoly of thieving, and let your bank and insurance people be honest. ‘That was the old way, and it was the best.” “But Mr. Dumm,” I commenced— “No more of that,” he cried, ‘Hereafter Tam Jim Dodger, an honest tradesman—in my fine of business cracking a crib whenever I can get at it. You'll find it will be better for the banks, better for me, and a blamed sight better for the depositors. The authorities always can keep thieves and burglars in hand; but there's a more dangerous class tha makes everything unstable and unsafe.” “And they are?” “Your Hypocrites in high places!” ‘TRIPLET. DRAMATIC NOTES. A COMPANION picture to the ‘ Danites"” pre- vails at the Grand Opera House. It is by Bartley Campbell and is called the “Vigilantes.” Tue benefit performance in aid of Frank Langley, a deserving young actor of this city who lies very ill, has been postponed. ‘Those friends who desire to communicate with him can do so through Mr. D. H. Harkins, at the Fifth Avenue Theatre. ‘THE average actor no longer ornaments Union Square. He has gone to Manhattan Beach, where he is luxuriating in the surf. ‘There he finds himself in good company, and is able to enjoy a bath with all the modern im- provements. Brentano has on sale “Gabrielle,” trans- lated from ‘‘The House of Mauréze” by Henry Gréville, the new French author, whose “Dosia,” “Sonia” and ‘“Ariadne” have recently made such a success in Paris. ‘“ Henry Gréville” is the nom de plume of a lady. This has led several unprincipled correspondents to suggest that this device is calculated to enable her to win fame Maurezely than otherwise. These cor- respondents have been killed. Answegs for the Anrious, Sug,—Suicide! Hasenr JRC. LARRABEE P. L.—Your poem has been a week under consideration. It is now under the table, Cunver.—You want to wrap the mantle of oblivion about you and lie down to assorted dreams. R.R, Ditsow.—The name of Ditson may some day stand high on the seroll of poetic fame; but it will be a sweet and consolatory reflection that Puck will not be credited with the iniquities that will win you glory. Stop her. Letter by mail. comicbooks.com