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Everything Comes to Him Who Waits
(Edison)
lfol|CZIOEf51 By LULIETTE BRYANT [(=ZIOI=Z>|[o1|C=30I=51
"tteinie, Oi'm up ag'inst it!
! J Oi've got to have a job!"
Cud McGiven leaned up against the bar of Chris Heinrich's clean little family liquor store and spoke with a kind of regretful solemnity.
"Veil, vhat for shouldn't you vork, alreaty?" sputtered the plump little individual addressed as "Hemic" "Other folks haf got to vork or starve ! Look at me now. I vorks me my ten, twelve hours a day still, und I owns me mine store und three houses yet."
"Yis, Heinie" — Cud's face was sober, but a twinkle lurked far back in the gray-blue eyes — "sure it's a known fact that yer match is nivir to be had when it comes to worruk. But think of me — a man of me wellknown talents — that can juggle an' box an' lick anny man in the Tinth Ward — an' has proved it to most of thim."
"Veil," scolded Heinie, his round, red face expressing his disgust at this reasoning, ' ' suppose you can lick ef ry one of 'em? Does it pay any money to you? Has anybody you've boxed or licked paid any board bill for you alreaty yet?"
"Divvle a wan of 'em," returned Cud, composedly, ' ' which is the thing that's turnin' me hair gray with care and anxiety. Oi'm down to me last dollar, and it 's the busy life f er mine. Now, Heinie, what kind of a job would ye be after advisin' me to thry?"
" Try ? Try vhatef er kind of a job you know how to do. Vhat vas the last job you had?"
"Sure, that were a beautiful job!" declared Cud, grinning reminiscently. "It was tendin' a pool-room. I took up the money fer the games — sthrictly in advance — and whin the game broke up in a row, I put ivery
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body in the room out onto the sthrate, on gineral principles, whether they was in the game or not ! ' '
"Veil, if you like so fool a job, vhy didn't you keep it yet?" queried the disgusted Heinie.
"Oi was too willin'," explained Cud. "Oi was so eager to be at my arjuous task that I started in a puttin' of thim out, wan night, before anny row had begun. Thin the boss, says he : ' Cud, ye 're drunk, ' says he ; 'ye 're fired,' says he; 'git out,' says he. At that, my hot Irish blood b 'iled up in my veins like a seltzer fizz, an' I resigned, thin and there, and walked out from under his nefayrious roof, nivir to enther there anny more. ' '
"And vhasn't you drunk?" demanded Heinie.
"Oi'd had nivir a thing but beer. Good, honest German beer! Heinie, I put it to ye straight — kin a man be drunk on nothin' but beer?"
"I dont know," growled Heinie. "Beer is a goot thing, in moderation. The German people, they are moderate. Men dont get drunk in my place. I drinks me mine fifty, sixty glasses of beer efry day; I dont get drunk. I dont know how it be if a man make a tamn hog out of himself ! ' '
Cud burst into a roar of laughter that shook the rafters of the lowceiled little room and brought Gretchen, Heinrich's fat frau, from the kitchen, to inquire into the commotion. When the case was explained to her, she pursed her red lips for a moment, pulling reflectively at a strand of her straight yellow hair.
"Your brother is wanting a waiter man," she said, finally. "Give Cud a note, to get him a job there."
Heinrich reflected, anxiously.
"You mustn't be gettin' drunk, if I gif you one recommend to mine brother," he warned.