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Authors: Nathanael West
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“Leather
Shirts,” but that when they looked the next day to see if he were still there
they found only a large blood stain. Lem looked
himself but failed even to find this stain, there being many cats in the
neighborhood.
He was a sociable youth and quickly
made friends with several of the other guests of the Warford House. None of them were his age, however, so that he was pleased when a young
man named Samuel Perkins spoke to him.
Sam worked in a furnishing goods
store on lower Broadway. He was very fond of dress and indulged in a variety of
showy neckties, being able to get them at reduced rates.
“What line are you in?” he asked our
hero in the lobby one evening while they were waiting for the supper bell to
ring.
“I’m in the glass business,” Lem answered cautiously, for he had been warned not to explain
his duties to anyone.
“How much do you get?” was the
forward youth’s next question.
“Thirty dollars a week and found,”
said Lem , honestly.
“I get thirty-five without keep, but
it’s too little for me. A man can’t live on that kind of money, what with the
opera once a week and decent clothes. Why, my carfare alone comes to over a
dollar, not counting taxicabs.”
“Yes, it must be rather a tight
squeeze for you,” said Lem with a smile as he thought
of all the large families who lived on smaller incomes than Mr. Perkins’.
“Of course,” Sam went on, “the folks
at home allow me another ten dollars a week. You see the old gent has money.
But I tell you it sure melts away in this town.”
“No doubt,” said Lem .
“There are a good many ways to spend money here.”
“Suppose we go to the theater
tonight?”
“No,” Lem replied, “I’m not as fortunate as you are. I have no wealthy father to fall
back on and must save the little I earn.”
“Well, then,” said Sam, for that
youth could not live without excitement of some sort, “what do you say we visit
Chinatown? It’ll only cost us carfare.”
To this proposition Lem readily agreed. “I’d like very much to go,” he said. “Perhaps
Mr. Warren would like to join us.”
Mr. Warren was another guest whose
acquaintance Lem had made.
“What, that crank!” exclaimed Sam,
who was by way of being somewhat of a snob. “He’s soft in his upper story.
Pretends that he’s literary and writes for the magazines.”
“He does, doesn’t he?”
“Very likely, but did you ever see
such shabby neckties as he wears?”
“He hasn’t your advantages for
getting them,” said Lem with a smile, for he knew
where the young man worked.
“How do you like the tie I have on?
It’s a stunner, isn’t it?” asked Sam complacently.
“It’s very striking,” said Lem , whose tastes were much more sober.
“I get a new necktie every week. You
see, I get them at half price. The girls always notice a fellow’s necktie.”
The supper bell sounded, and the two
youths parted to go to their own tables. After eating,
they met again in the lobby and proceeded to Chinatown.
17
Lem and
his new friend wandered through Mott Street and its environs, observing with
considerable interest the curious customs and outlandish manners of that
neighbor- hod’s large oriental population.
Early in the evening, however, an
incident occurred which made our hero feel sorry that he had ventured out with
Sam Perkins. When they came upon an ancient celestial, who was quietly reading
a newspaper under an arc lamp, Sam accosted him before Lem could interfere.
“Hey, John,” said the youth
mockingly, “no tickee , no washee .”
And he laughed foolishly in the manner of his kind.
The almond-eyed old man looked up
from his newspaper and stared coldly at him for a full minute, then said with
great dignity, “By the blessed beard of my grandfather, you’re the lousiest
pimple-faced ape I ever did see.”
At this Sam made as though to strike
the aged oriental. But that surprising individual was not in the least
frightened. He took a
Shirts,” but that when they looked the next day to see if he were still there
they found only a large blood stain. Lem looked
himself but failed even to find this stain, there being many cats in the
neighborhood.
He was a sociable youth and quickly
made friends with several of the other guests of the Warford House. None of them were his age, however, so that he was pleased when a young
man named Samuel Perkins spoke to him.
Sam worked in a furnishing goods
store on lower Broadway. He was very fond of dress and indulged in a variety of
showy neckties, being able to get them at reduced rates.
“What line are you in?” he asked our
hero in the lobby one evening while they were waiting for the supper bell to
ring.
“I’m in the glass business,” Lem answered cautiously, for he had been warned not to explain
his duties to anyone.
“How much do you get?” was the
forward youth’s next question.
“Thirty dollars a week and found,”
said Lem , honestly.
“I get thirty-five without keep, but
it’s too little for me. A man can’t live on that kind of money, what with the
opera once a week and decent clothes. Why, my carfare alone comes to over a
dollar, not counting taxicabs.”
“Yes, it must be rather a tight
squeeze for you,” said Lem with a smile as he thought
of all the large families who lived on smaller incomes than Mr. Perkins’.
“Of course,” Sam went on, “the folks
at home allow me another ten dollars a week. You see the old gent has money.
But I tell you it sure melts away in this town.”
“No doubt,” said Lem .
“There are a good many ways to spend money here.”
“Suppose we go to the theater
tonight?”
“No,” Lem replied, “I’m not as fortunate as you are. I have no wealthy father to fall
back on and must save the little I earn.”
“Well, then,” said Sam, for that
youth could not live without excitement of some sort, “what do you say we visit
Chinatown? It’ll only cost us carfare.”
To this proposition Lem readily agreed. “I’d like very much to go,” he said. “Perhaps
Mr. Warren would like to join us.”
Mr. Warren was another guest whose
acquaintance Lem had made.
“What, that crank!” exclaimed Sam,
who was by way of being somewhat of a snob. “He’s soft in his upper story.
Pretends that he’s literary and writes for the magazines.”
“He does, doesn’t he?”
“Very likely, but did you ever see
such shabby neckties as he wears?”
“He hasn’t your advantages for
getting them,” said Lem with a smile, for he knew
where the young man worked.
“How do you like the tie I have on?
It’s a stunner, isn’t it?” asked Sam complacently.
“It’s very striking,” said Lem , whose tastes were much more sober.
“I get a new necktie every week. You
see, I get them at half price. The girls always notice a fellow’s necktie.”
The supper bell sounded, and the two
youths parted to go to their own tables. After eating,
they met again in the lobby and proceeded to Chinatown.
17
Lem and
his new friend wandered through Mott Street and its environs, observing with
considerable interest the curious customs and outlandish manners of that
neighbor- hod’s large oriental population.
Early in the evening, however, an
incident occurred which made our hero feel sorry that he had ventured out with
Sam Perkins. When they came upon an ancient celestial, who was quietly reading
a newspaper under an arc lamp, Sam accosted him before Lem could interfere.
“Hey, John,” said the youth
mockingly, “no tickee , no washee .”
And he laughed foolishly in the manner of his kind.
The almond-eyed old man looked up
from his newspaper and stared coldly at him for a full minute, then said with
great dignity, “By the blessed beard of my grandfather, you’re the lousiest
pimple-faced ape I ever did see.”
At this Sam made as though to strike
the aged oriental. But that surprising individual was not in the least
frightened. He took a
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