peared to date back to
a remote antiquity. It had been bought cheap in Baxter street, its
previous history being unknown.

Jerry decided to make the change at once. The alley afforded a
convenient place for making the transfer. He accordingly pulled off the
ragged shirt he wore and put on the article he had purloined from Paul.
The sleeves were too long, but he turned up the cuffs, and the ample
body he tucked inside his pants.

"It fits me too much," soliloquized Jerry, as he surveyed himself after
the exchange. "I could let out the half of it, and have enough left for
meself. Anyhow, it's clane, and it came chape enough."

He came out of the alley, leaving his old shirt behind him. Even if it
had been worth carrying away, Jerry saw no use in possessing more than
one shirt. It was his habit to wear one until it was ready to drop
off from him, and then get another if he could. There is a practical
convenience in this arrangement, though there are also objections which
will readily occur to the reader.

On the whole, though the shirt fitted him too much, as he expressed it,
he regarded himself complacently.

The superabundant material gave the impression of liberal expenditure
and easy circumstances, since a large shirt naturally costs more than
a small one. So Jerry, as he walked along the Bowery, assumed a jaunty
air, precisely such as some of my readers may when they have a new suit
to display. His new shirt was quite conspicuous, since he was encumbered
neither with vest nor coat.

Mike, feeling sore over his defeat, met Jerry the next morning on
Chatham street. His quick eye detected the improved state of his
friend's apparel, and his indignation rose, as he reflected that Jerry
had pocketed the profits while the hard knocks had been his.

"Jerry!" he called out.

Jerry did not see fit to heed the call. He was sensible that Mike had
something to complain of, and he was in no hurry to meet his reproaches.

"Jerry McGaverty!" called Mike, coming near.

"Oh, it's you, Mike, is it?" answered Jerry, unable longer to keep up
the pretense of not hearing.

"Yes, it's me," said Mike. "What made you leave me for last night?"

"I didn't want to interfere betwane two gintlemen," said Jerry, with a
grin. "Did you mash him, Mike?"

"No," said Mike, sullenly, "he mashed me. Why didn't you help me?"

"I thought you was bating him, so, as I had some business to attind to,
I went away."

"You went away wid the shir