rom the interiors of tiny shops and
cellars came eldritch voices crying the nature and remarkable qualities
of the wares within. Every hand-cart carried a flaring naphtha-lamp,
and the glare of these innumerable torches created strong lights and
flickering shadows which would have gladdened the heart of Rembrandt
were his artistic wraith permitted to roam the by-ways of a city which,
perhaps, he never heard of, even in its early Dutch guise as New
Amsterdam.

The lofty tenement houses seemed to be crowded as the streets. Within
a square mile of that section of New York a quarter of a million people
find habitation, food, and employment. They supply each other's needs,
speak their own weird tongues, and by slow degrees become absorbed by
the great continent which harbors them, and then only when a second or
third generation becomes Americanized.

In such a motley throng four prowling stokers, ashore for a night's
spree, attracted scant attention, and Morris Siegelman's hospitable
door was reached without incident. A taxi-cab was standing by the
curb, and the driver, gazing at the living panorama of the street,
little guessed that he had changed garments with one of the
half-drunken firemen two hours earlier.

"Here y'are, mattes!" cried Steingall, joyously surveying a printed
legend displayed among the bottles of a dingy bar running along the
side of an apartment which had once been the parlor of a pretentious
house, "this is the right sort o' dope--vodka--same as is supplied to
the Czar of all the Roossias. Get a pint of vodka into yer gizzards
an' you'll think you've swallowed a lump of red-hot clinker."

Clancy hopped on to a high stool, and curled himself up on the rounded
seat in the accepted posture of Buddha, while Devar, who was by way of
being a gymnast, stood on his hands and beat a tattoo with his feet
against the edge of the counter. Not to be outdone, Curtis began to
sing. He had a good baritone voice, and entered with zest into the mad
spirit of the frolic. The song he chose was redolent of the sea. It
related a tar's escapades among witches, cruisers, and girls. Three of
the latter claimed him at one and the same time--so "What was a
sailor-boy to do? Yeo-ho, Yeo-ho, Yeo-ho!" The chorus decided the
point:

"Why, we went strolling down by the rolling,
Down by the rolling sea.
If you can't be true to One or Two,
You're much better off with Three."

Evidently, the roysterer