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(Annals of The Bend)

Chucky d’ Turk” was the nom de guerre of my friend. Under this title he fought the battles of life. If he had another name he never made me his confidant concerning it. We had many talks, Chucky and I; generally in a dingy little bar on Baxter Street, where, when I wearied of uptown sights and smells, I was wont to meet with Chucky. Never did Chucky call on me nor seek me. From first to last he failed not to conduct himself towards me with an air of tolerant patronage. When together I did the buying and the listening, and Chucky did the drinking and the talking. It was on such occasion when Chucky told me the story of Mulberry Mary.

“Mary was born in Kelly’s Alley,” remarked Chucky, examining in a thoughtful way his mug of mixed ale; “Mary was born in Kelly’s Alley, an’ say! she wasn’t no squealer, I don’t t’ink.

“When Mary grows up an’ can chase about an’ chin, she toins out a dead good kid an’ goes to d’ Sisters’ School. At this time I don’t spot Mary in p’ticler; she’s nothin’ but a sawed-off kid, an’ I’m busy wit’ me graft.

“D’ foist I really knows of Mary is when she gets married. She hooks up wit’ Billy, d’ moll-buzzard; an’ say! he’s bad.

“He gets his lamps on Mary at Connorses spiel, Billy does; an’ he’s stuck on her in a hully secont. It’s no wonder; Mary’s a peach. She’s d’ belle of d’ Bend, make no doubt.

“Billy’s graft is hangin’ round d’ Bowery bars, layin’ for suckers. An’ he used to get in his hooks deep an’ clever now an’ then, an’ most times Billy could, if it’s a case of crowd, flash quite a bit of dough.

“So when Billy sees Mary at Connorses spiel, like I says, she’s such a bute he loses his nut. You needn’t give it d’ laugh! Say! I sees d’ map of a skirt – a goil, I means – on a drop curtain at a swell t’eatre onct, an’ it says under it she’s Cleopatra. D’ mark nex’ me says, when I taps for a tip, this Cleopatra’s from Egypt, an’ makes a hit in d’ coochee coochee line, wit’ d’ high push of d’ old times, see! An’ says this gezeybo for a finish: ‘This Cleopatra was a wonder for looks. She was d’ high-roller tart of her time, an’ d’ beauti-fulest.’

“Now, all I got to say is,” continued Chucky, regarding me with a challenging air of decision the while; “all I has to utter is, Mary could make this Cleopatra look like seven cents!

“Well,” resumed Chucky, as I made no comment, “Billy chases up to Mary an’ goes in to give her d’ jolly of her life. An’, say! she’s pleased all right, all right; I can see it be her mug.

“An’ Billy goes d’ limit. He orders d’ beers; an’ when he pays, Billy springs his wad on Mary an’ counts d’ bills off slow, Linkin’ it’ll razzle-dazzle her. Then Billy tells Mary he’s out to be her steady.

“‘I’ve got money to boin,’ says Billy, ‘an’ what you wants you gets, see!’ An’ Billy pulls d’ long green ag’in to show Mary he’s dead strong, an ‘d’ money aint no dream.

“But Mary says ‘Nit! couple of times nit!’ She says she’s on d’ level, an’ no steady goes wit’ her. It’s either march or marry wit’ Mary. An’ so she lays it down.

“That’s how it stands, when d’ nex’ news we hears Billy an’ she don’t do a t’ing but chase off to a w’ite-choker; followin’ which dey grabs off a garret in d’ Astorbilt tenement, an’ goes to keepin’ house.

“But Mary breaks in on Billy’s graft. She says he’s got to go to woik; he’ll get lagged if he don’t; an’ she won’t stand for no husband who spends half d’ time wit’ her an ‘d’ rest on d’ Island. So he cuts loose from d’ fly mob an’ leaves d’ suckers alone, an’ hires out for a tinsmith, see!

“An’ here’s d’ luck Billy has. It’s d’ secont day an’ he’s fittin’ in d’ tin flashin’ round a chimbley on a five-story roof; an’ mebby it’s because he aint used to woik, or mebby he gets funny in his cupolo, bein’ up so high; anyhow he dives down to d’ pavement, an’ when he lands, you bet your life! Billy’s d’ deadest t’ing that ever happened.

“Mary goes wild an’ wrong after that. In half of no time Mary takes to chasin’ up to Mott Street an’ hittin’ d’ pipe. There’s a Chink up there who can cook d’ hop out o’ sight, an’ it aint long before Mary is hangin’ ‘round his joint for good. It’s then dey quits callin’ her Mulberry Mary, an’ she goes be d’ name of Mollie d’ Dope.

“Mary don’t last in d’ Chink swim more’n a year before there’s bats in her belfry for fair; any old stiff wit’ lamps could see it; an’ so folks gets leary of Mary.

“It runs on mebby two years after Billy does that stunt from d’ roof, see! when there’s a fire an’ all d’ kids run an’ screeched, an’ all d’ folks hollered, an’ all d’ engines comes an’ lams loose to put it out. D’ fire’s in a tenement, an ‘d’ folks who was in it has skipped, so it’s just d’ joint itself is boinin’.

“All at onct a kid looks out d’ fort’ story window wit ‘d’ fire shinin’ behint him. You can see be d’ little mark’s mug he’s got an awful scare t’run into him, t’inkin’ he’s out to boin in d’ buildin*.

“‘It’s McManuses’ Chamsey!’ says one old Tommy, lettin’ her hair down her back an’ givin’ a yell, ‘Somebody save McManuses’ Chamsey!’

“‘Let me save him!’ says Mary, at d’ same time laughin’ wild. ‘Let me save him; I want to save him! I’m only Mollie d’ Dope – Mollie d’ hop fiend – an’ if I gets it in d’ neck it don’t count, see!’

“Mary goes up in d’ smoke an ‘d’ fire, no one knows how, wit’ d’ water pourin’ from d’ hose, an ‘d’ boards an’ glass a-fallin’ an’ a-crashin’, an’ she brings out McManuses’ Chamsey, Saves him; on d’ dead! she does; an’ boins all d’ hair off her cocoa doin’ it.

“Well, of course d’ fire push stan’s in an’ gives Mary all sorts of guff an’ praise. Mary only laughs an’ says, while d’ amb’lance guy is doin’ up her head, that folks ain’t onto her racket; that she d’ soonest frail that ever walks in d’ Bend.”

At this juncture Chucky desired another mixed ale. He got it, and after a long, damp pause he resumed his thread.

“Now what do youse t’ink of this for a finish? It’s weeks ago d’ fire is. Mary meets up wit’ McManuses’ Chamsey to-day – she’s been followin’ him a good deal since she saves him – an’ as Chamsey is only six years old, he don’t know nothin’, an’ falls to Mary’s lead. It’s an easy case of bunk, an’ Chamsey only six years old like that!

“Mary gives Chamsey d’ gay face an’ wins him right off. She buys him posies of one Dago an’ sugar candy of another; an’ then she passes Chamsey a strong tip, he’s missin’ d’ sights be not goin’ down to d’ East River.

“Here’s what Mary does – she takes Chamsey down be d’ docks – a longshoreman loafin’ hears what she says. Mary tells Chamsey to look at all d’ chimbleys an ‘d’ smoke comin’ out!

“‘An’ in every one there’s fire makin ‘d’ smoke,’ says Mary. ‘T’ink of all d’ fires there must be, Chamsey! I’ll bet Hell ain’t got any more fires in it than d’ woild! Do youse remember, Chamsey, how d’ fire was goin’ to boin you? Now, I’ll tell you what we’ll do, so d’ fire never will boin us; we’ll jump in, – you an’ me!’

“An’ wit’ that, so d’ longshoreman says, Mary nails Chamsey be d’ neck wit’ her left hook an’ hops into d’ drink. Yes, dey was drowned – d’ brace of ‘em. Dey’s over to d’ dead house now on a slab – Mary an’ McManuses’ Chamsey.

“What makes me so wet? I gets to d’ dock a minute too late to save ‘em, but I’m right in time to dive up d’ stiffs. So I dives ‘em up. It’s easy money. That’s what makes me cuffs look like ruffles an’ me collar like a corset string.” And here Chucky called for a third mixed ale, as a sign that his talk was done.