The Jungle - Upton Sinclair (books to read in your 20s female .txt) 📗

treat me better⁠—hic⁠—hole me up, ole sport! Whuzzit you wamme do?”

“I’m hungry, sir,” said Jurgis.

“Hungry! Why don’t you hassome supper?”

“I’ve got no money, sir.”

“No money! Ho, ho⁠—less be chums, ole boy⁠—jess like me! No money, either⁠—a’most busted! Why don’t you go home, then, same’s me?”

“I haven’t any home,” said Jurgis.

“No home! Stranger in the city, hey? Goo’ God, thass bad! Better come home wiz me⁠—yes, by Harry, thass the trick, you’ll come home an’ hassome supper⁠—hic⁠—wiz me! Awful lonesome⁠—nobody home! Guv’ner gone abroad⁠—Bubby on’s honeymoon⁠—Polly havin’ twins⁠—every damn soul gone away! Nuff⁠—hic⁠—nuff to drive a feller to drink, I say! Only ole Ham standin’ by, passin’ plates⁠—damfican eat like that, no sir! The club for me every time, my boy, I say. But then they won’t lemme sleep there⁠—guv’ner’s orders, by Harry⁠—home every night, sir! Ever hear anythin’ like that? ‘Every mornin’ do?’ I asked him. ‘No, sir, every night, or no allowance at all, sir.’ Thass my guv’ner⁠—hic⁠—hard as nails, by Harry! Tole ole Ham to watch me, too⁠—servants spyin’ on me⁠—whuzyer think that, my fren’? A nice, quiet⁠—hic⁠—good-hearted young feller like me, an’ his daddy can’t go to Europe⁠—hup!⁠—an’ leave him in peace! Ain’t that a shame, sir? An’ I gotter go home every evenin’ an’ miss all the fun, by Harry! Thass whuzzamatter now⁠—thass why I’m here! Hadda come away an’ leave Kitty⁠—hic⁠—left her cryin’, too⁠—whujja think of that, ole sport? ‘Lemme go, Kittens,’ says I⁠—‘come early an’ often⁠—I go where duty⁠—hic⁠—calls me. Farewell, farewell, my own true love⁠—farewell, fare-we-hell, my-own-true-love!’ ”

This last was a song, and the young gentleman’s voice rose mournful and wailing, while he swung upon Jurgis’s neck. The latter was glancing about nervously, lest someone should approach. They were still alone, however.

“But I came all right, all right,” continued the youngster, aggressively. “I can⁠—hic⁠—I can have my own way when I want it, by Harry⁠—Freddie Jones is a hard man to handle when he gets goin’! ‘No, sir,’ says I, ‘by thunder, and I don’t need anybody goin’ home with me, either⁠—whujja take me for, hey? Think I’m drunk, dontcha, hey?⁠—I know you! But I’m no more drunk than you are, Kittens,’ says I to her. And then says she, ’Thass true, Freddie dear’ (she’s a smart one, is Kitty), ‘but I’m stayin’ in the flat, an’ you’re goin’ out into the cold, cold night!’ ‘Put it in a pome, lovely Kitty,’ says I. ‘No jokin’, Freddie, my boy,’ says she. ’Lemme call a cab now, like a good dear’⁠—but I can call my own cabs, dontcha fool yourself⁠—I know what I’m a-doin’, you bet! Say, my fren’, whatcha say⁠—willye come home an’ see me, an’ hassome supper? Come ’long like a good feller⁠—don’t be haughty! You’re up against it, same as me, an’ you can unnerstan’ a feller; your heart’s in the right place, by Harry⁠—come ’long, ole chappie, an’ we’ll light up the house, an’ have some fizz, an’ we’ll raise hell, we will⁠—whoop-la! S’long’s I’m inside the house I can do as I please⁠—the guv’ner’s own very orders, b’God! Hip! hip!”

They had started down the street, arm in arm, the young man pushing Jurgis along, half dazed. Jurgis was trying to think what to do⁠—he knew he could not pass any crowded place with his new acquaintance without attracting attention and being stopped. It was only because of the falling snow that people who passed here did not notice anything wrong.

Suddenly, therefore, Jurgis stopped. “Is it very far?” he inquired.

“Not very,” said the other. “Tired, are you, though? Well, we’ll ride⁠—whatcha say? Good! Call a cab!”

And then, gripping Jurgis tight with one hand, the young fellow began searching his pockets with the other. “You call, ole sport, an’ I’ll pay,” he suggested. “How’s that, hey?”

And he pulled out from somewhere a big roll of bills. It was more money than Jurgis had ever seen in his life before, and he stared at it with startled eyes.

“Looks like a lot, hey?” said Master Freddie, fumbling with it. “Fool you, though, ole chappie⁠—they’re all little ones! I’ll be busted in one week more, sure thing⁠—word of honor. An’ not a cent more till the first⁠—hic⁠—guv’ner’s orders⁠—hic⁠—not a cent, by Harry! Nuff to set a feller crazy, it is. I sent him a cable this af’noon⁠—thass one reason more why I’m goin’ home. ‘Hangin’ on the verge of starvation,’ I says⁠—‘for the honor of the family⁠—hic⁠—sen’ me some bread. Hunger will compel me to join you.⁠—Freddie.’ Thass what I wired him, by Harry, an’ I mean it⁠—I’ll run away from school, b’God, if he don’t sen’ me some.”

After this fashion the young gentleman continued to prattle on⁠—and meantime Jurgis was trembling with excitement. He might grab that wad of bills and be out of sight in the darkness before the other could collect his wits. Should he do it? What better had he to hope for, if he waited longer? But Jurgis had never committed a crime in his life, and now he hesitated half a second too long. “Freddie” got one bill loose, and then stuffed the rest back into his trousers’ pocket.

“Here, ole man,” he said, “you take it.” He held it out fluttering. They were in front of a saloon; and by the light of the window Jurgis saw that it was a hundred-dollar bill!

“You take it,” the other repeated. “Pay the cabbie an’ keep the change⁠—I’ve got⁠—hic⁠—no head for business! Guv’ner says so his-self, an’ the guv’ner knows⁠—the guv’ner’s got a head for business, you bet! ’All right, guv’ner,’ I told him ‘you run the show, and I’ll take the tickets!’ An’ so he set Aunt Polly to watch me⁠—hic⁠—an’ now Polly’s off in the hospital havin’ twins, an’ me out raisin’ Cain! Hello, there! Hey! Call him!”

A cab was driving by; and Jurgis sprang and called, and it swung round to the curb. Master Freddie clambered in with some difficulty, and Jurgis had started to follow, when the driver shouted: “Hi, there! Get out⁠—you!”

Jurgis hesitated, and was half obeying;