Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 103, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 April 1912 — Tales of GOTHAM and other CITIES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Tales of GOTHAM and other CITIES

Where Finnegan Held His Christening

NEW YORK. —There was a christening the . other night at the home of Michael Finnegan. He had known Mike for years, had Bill Murphy, but for thelifeof him he could not reveal to Magistrate O’Conner, in the West side court, where Mr. Finnegan and. the little Finnegans lived, save in a vague way. Bill Murphy blinked his eyes and hardened his features. Followed a heavy bar of sllenoe while the court turned his head away. Bill Murphy was taking violent hold of himself and began: “Me own home, your honor, is at 300 West Fortieth street, wan flight down, straight ahead an’ then to the right” “Good,” Magistrate O’Conner cheered him. “Now tell me. where Mr. Finnegan held his christening and how you came to undress and go to sleep on a bench in the Ninety-sixth street station of the subway.” Bill Murphy drew his hand across his lips and set his teeth. “Mike Finnegan,” he uttered fiercely, “lives jpat a bit off that avenoo named after the wop that discovered New York. 'Tis a common same, .but it don’t come to me just now.”

avenue,” suggested’ his honor. “Righto,” ejaculated Bill Murphy, brightly. “Colpabus was the wop’s name.- Now we’re gettin’ along. Twas a grand christening, judge, an’ it begun Sunday. Leastwise Sunday run along into it, not to spake o’ part o* Saturday an* mebbe some o’ Friday. Lavin’ Mike’s honse, says I to meself, ‘Bill, M’s walk home; ye need the air.’ The answer was yes, an* we walked, the two of us. Bill an’ meself, castin’ two shadows off the lamps. “Me home, as I said before, judge, is at 300 West Fortieth, one flight down, straight ahead an’ thin to the right We come along, judge, a long piece, a good Irish mile, when I see ahead o' me a open-faced entrance an’ steps leadin’ down. ’“ls it home we are. Bill?’ says I, an* Bill he sayß, %‘Yis.' "Very good,’ says I, ‘we need sleep an’ a power of it, on’y sleep light an’ don’t wake the house.’ S?o down we wint, the two av up, judge, one flight down, straight ahead an’ thin to the right ‘“There’s our bed, Bill,’ says I, an’ Bill says, ‘Yes,’ so we both undressed an’ wint to bed, the two av us in the same bed, an’ the next thing I know me home is full o' cops an’ bleatin’ women yellin’ Horrors, ’ an' ‘He ain’t got no pants,’ an’ the like o' that. All I ask is a bit o’ sleep, judge, an' no more cbristenin’s for a bit speel.’ Magistrate O’Conner so arranged it that Bill Murphy may sleep ten days unless some of his kin or friends come and bail him out