My other half

6

Once in the dim dead Days beyond Recall, there lived a blue-eyed Gazook

named Steve.

We refer to the Period preceding the Uplift, when the Candidate wearing

the largest collar was the People's Choice for Alderman.

A Good Citizen wishing to open a Murder Parlor needed a couple of Black

Bottles, a Barrel of Sawdust and a Pull at the City Hall.

When he opened up, he threw the Key in the River and arranged to have

the Bodies taken out through the Alley so as not to impede Traffic in the

Main Thoroughfares.

Twelve months every Year marked the Open Season for every Game from

Pitch-and-Toss to Manslaughter.

Any one in search of Diversion could roll Kelly Pool at 10 Cents a Cue in

the Morning, go to the Track in the Afternoon, take in a 20-round Scrap in

the Evening and then Shoot at the Wheel a few times before backing into

the Flax.

The Police were instructed to make sure that all Push-Cart Peddlers were

properly Licensed.

Steve roamed the Wide-Open Town and spread his Bets both ways from

the Jack.

When he cut the String and began to back his Judgment he knew no Limit

except the Milky Way. Any time he rolled them, you could hear

considerable Rumble.

All the Bookies, Barkeeps, Bruisers, and the Boys sitting on the Moonlight

Rattlers knew him by his First Name and had him tagged as a Producer

and a Helva Nice Fellow.

Steve heard vague Rumors that certain Stiffs who hurried home before

Midnight and wore White Mufflers, were trying to put the Town on the

Fritz and Can all the Live Ones, but he did not dream that a Mug who

went around in Goloshes and drank Root Beer could put anything across

with the Main Swivel over at the Hall.

O, the Rude Awakening!

One day he was in a Pool Room working on the Form Sheet with about

150 other Students and getting ready to back Sazerack off the Boards in

the Third at Guttenberg, when some Blue Wagons backed up and Steve

told the Desk Sergeant, a few Minutes later, that his Name was Andrew

Jackson.

Next Day he had a Wire from a Trainer but when he went to the old

familiar Joint, the Plain Clothes Men gave him the Sign to Beat it and he

turned away, throbbing with Indignation.

The down-town Books were being raided but the Angoras kept on

galloping at the Track, so he rode out on the Train every day in order to

preserve his Rights as a free-born American.

One Day just as he was Peeling from his Roll in front of the Kentucky

Club, in order to grab Gertie Glue at 8 to 5, Lightning struck the Paddock

and laid out the entire Works.

When the Touts and the Sheet-Writers and the Sure-Thingers came to

and began to ask Questions, it was discovered that the Yap Legislature

had killed the Racing Game and ordered all the Regulars to go to Work.

Steve went back to Town in a dazed Condition to hunt up the g**g and

find out what could be done to put out the Fire.

When he Nothing doing.

The Governor had called out the Militia in order to prevent a Blot being

put upon the Fair Name of the Commonwealth.

With the Selling-Platers turned out to Pasture, the Brace-Box and the

Pinch Wheel lying in the Basement at Central Station, the Pugs going back

to the Foundry and all the Street Lamps being taken in at Midnight, no

wonder Steve was hard pushed to find Innocent Amusement.

He started to hang around a Broker's Office but it was no Fun to bet on a

Turn-Up when you couldn't watch the Shuffle. Besides, the Game was

Cold and was being fiercely denounced by the Press.

For a Time he kept warm in a Bowling Alley. Drive a Man into a Corner

and goad him to Desperation and he will go so far as to Bowl, provided

that he lives in a German Neighborhood.

One Evening he went down to see the Walhallas go against the

Schwabens, but the Place was Dark.

The Authorities had interfered.

It seemed that the Manufacture of Bowling Balls involved the Destruction

of the Hardwood Forests, while the Game itself overtaxed certain

Important Muscles ending with "alis," at the same time encouraging

Profanity and the use of 5-cent Cigars.

Steve had one Stand-By left to him. He could prop himself up on the

Bleachers with a bag of lubricated Pop-Corn between his Knees and hurl

insulting Remarks at Honus Wagner, Joe Tinker and Ty Cobb.

When he crawled up in the 50-cent Seats he found the same old Bunch

that used to answer Roll Call at the Pool Room, the Sharkey Club, and the

Betting Ring.

The Law had made them Decent Citizens, but it hadn't made them any

easier to look after that he sauntered up to a large Frame Building to

look at a couple of Boys who had promised to make 135 Ringside.

A Cannon was planted at the Main Chute and the Street was filled with

Department Store Employees disguised as Soldiers.

Nothing doing.

The Governor had called out the Militia in order to prevent a Blot being

put upon the Fair Name of the Commonwealth.

With the Selling-Platers turned out to Pasture, the Brace-Box and the

Pinch Wheel lying in the Basement at Central Station, the Pugs going back

to the Foundry and all the Street Lamps being taken in at Midnight, no

wonder Steve was hard pushed to find Innocent Amusement.

He started to hang around a Broker's Office but it was no Fun to bet on a

Turn-Up when you couldn't watch the Shuffle. Besides, the Game was

Cold and was being fiercely denounced by the Press.

For a Time he kept warm in a Bowling Alley. Drive a Man into a Corner

and goad him to Desperation and he will go so far as to Bowl, provided

that he lives in a German Neighborhood.

One Evening he went down to see the Walhallas go against the

Schwabens, but the Place was Dark.

The Authorities had interfered.

It seemed that the Manufacture of Bowling Balls involved the Destruction

of the Hardwood Forests, while the Game itself overtaxed certain

Important Muscles ending with "alis," at the same time encouraging

Profanity and the use of 5-cent Cigars.

Steve had one Stand-By left to him. He could prop himself up on the

Bleachers with a bag of lubricated Pop-Corn between his Knees and hurl

insulting Remarks at Honus Wagner, Joe Tinker and Ty Cobb.

When he crawled up in the 50-cent Seats he found the same old Bunch

that used to answer Roll Call at the Pool Room, the Sharkey Club, and the

Betting Ring.

The Law had made them Decent Citizens, but it hadn't made them any

easier to look