Tin-Types Taken in the Streets of New York | Page 7

Jayres leaned over the bannister and started to call. "Boo--" he
roared, and then checked himself. "Drat such a name as that," he said.
"Who ever heard of a civilized Boy being called Bootsey? What'll
people think to see a man of my age hanging over a bannister yelling
'Bootsey'! No, I must go down and hunt him up. I wonder why I keep
that Boy? I wonder why I do it?"
Mr. Jayres turned, and with a heavy sigh he began to descend to the
street. On the second landing he met Bootsey smoking a cigarette and
whistling. Mr. Jayres did not fly into a passion. He did not grow red
and frantic. He just took Bootsey by the hand and led him, step by step,
up the rest of the way to the office. He drew him inside, shut the door,
and led him over to his own table. Then he sat down, still holding
Bootsey's hand, and waited until he had caught his breath.
"Now, then," he said, at last.
"Yez'r," said Bootsey.

"You're a miserable little rogue!" said Mr. Jayres.
Bootsey held his peace.
"I've stood your deviltries till I've got no patience left, and now I'm
going to discharge you!"
"Aw, don't," said Bootsey.
"Yes," said Mr. Jayres, "I will; if I don't, the end of it all will be murder.
Some time or other I'll be seized of a passion, and there's no telling
what'll happen. There's your two dollars to the end of the week--now,
go!"
"Aw, now," said Bootsey, "wot's de use? I aint done nawfin'. 'Fi gets
bounced mom'll drub me awful! You said you wanted me to take a
letter up to Harlem dis afternoon."
"Yes, you scamp! And here's the afternoon half gone."
"O'll have it dere in less 'n no time," pleaded Bootsey.
Mr. Jayres scowled hard at Bootsey and hesitated. But finally he drew
the letter from the drawer of his table and handed it over, saying as he
did so, "If you aint back here by 5 o'clock, I'll break every bone in your
body!"
Bootsey left the office with great precipitation, and as he closed the
door behind him, Mr. Jayres glared morosely at a knot-hole in the floor.
"Funny about that boy!" he said reflectively. "I don't know as I ever
gave in to any living human being before that Boy came along in all my
life."
Mr. Jayres turned to his table and began to write, but was almost
immediately interrupted by a knock upon the door. He called out a
summons to enter, and two people, a man and a woman, came in. The
man was large, stolid, and rather vacant in his expression. The woman
was small and quick and sharp.

"Well, sir," said Mr. Jayres.
The woman poked the man and told him to speak.
"We've called--" said the man slowly.
"About your advertisement in the paper," added the woman quickly.
"Which paper?" asked Mr Jayres.
"Where's the paper?" asked the man, turning to the woman.
"Here," she replied, producing it.
"Oh, yes, I see," said Mr. Jayres, "it's about the Bugwug estate. What is
your name, sir?"
"His name is Tobey, and I'm Mrs. Tobey, and we keeps the Gallinipper
Laundry, sir, which is in Washington Place, being a very respectable
neighborhood, though the prices is low owing to competition of a party
across the street."
"Now, Maggie," said the man, "let me talk."
"Who's hindering you from talking, Tobey? I'm not, and that's certain.
The gentleman wanted to know who we were, and I've told him. He'd
been a week finding out from you."
"Come, come," said Mr. Jayres sharply, "let's get to business."
"That's what I said," replied Mrs. Tobey, "while I was putting on my
things to come down town. 'Tobey,' says I, 'get right to business. Don't
be wasting the gentleman's time,' which he always does, sir, halting and
hesitating and not knowing what to say, nor ever coming to the point.
'It's bad manners,' says I, 'and what's more, these lawyers,' says I,
'which is very sharp folks, wont stand it,' says I. But I don't suppose I
done him much good, for he's always been that way, sir, though I'm
sure I've worked my best to spur him up. But a poor, weak woman can't
do everything, though you'd think he thought so, if--"

"Oh, now stop, stop, stop!" cried Mr. Jayres, "you mustn't run on so.
Your name is Tobey and you have called about the Bugwug property.
Well, now, what of it?"
"I want to know is there any money in it," answered Mr. Tobey.
"Now, if you please, sir, just listen to that," cried Mrs. Tobey pityingly.
"He wants to know is there money in it! Why, of course, there's money
in it,