The Mother of the Hoboes by A-No. 1 The Famous Tramp

The Mother of the Hoboes by A-No. 1 The Famous Tramp

Author:A-No. 1 The Famous Tramp
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781891053559
Publisher: Garrett County Press


“You savee? Me plomise to pay twenty-five dollars for leturn of dog me fetchum when little pup flom China country, boys,” the Oriental imploringly explained, evermore convinced that the others were trying to cheat him of the possession of the pet that when but at puppy stage he had personally brought to America on returning from an excursion to the land of nativity of both the dog and his slant-eyed owner.

“I suggest that we accept the offer of the Chink who, so it seems, went daffy on the subject of getting hold of our captive, Dan,” whispered Winnipeg Tom who had correctly caught the figures mentioned by the heathen and these only of the “Pigeon” English he spoke. “The advantages to be gained by a prompt disposal of the animal are too obvious to admit of argument. Our refusal to agree to his terms would mean that we will have to hobo a distance of more than four hundred miles to reach the Crescent City. Much of this mileage passes through territory that is strictly hostile. Then again, on arriving at New Orleans we might encounter difficulties to discover a purchaser willing to pay a larger sum for the chow than the price the laundryman is tempting US with.”

“Then you consider it preferable to close a quick trade, Tom?” the plinger demanded, and when the gink nodded his head affirmatively, he turned to the Chinaman, “Provided we’re paid on delivery of this dog, we’re willing to accept your proposition.”

“Me all’lee timee leady to pay cash light away, fliends,” the laundryman cried out in glee and then beckoned the hoboes to follow him into his place of business where the deal was to be consummated.

“I would like to witness the rumpus raised when the master of the valuable beast arrives at this laundry to claim his property, Dan,” the Manitoban mused aloud while he trailed his mate who was leading the dog into the washery where the tramps beheld several Asiatics busily engaged in applying the various chemical and not altogether sanitary processes all Orientals utilize in the course of renovating soiled apparel.

When the stipulated amount of money was paid the hoboes, they handed the chow over to the Chinaman who had stopped them in the street and who proved to be the owner of the laundry. Then they turned to depart from the washery. But before they reached the threshold of the workshop, they tarried as their curiosity was held by the most uproarious reception the animal was receiving at the hands of the Chinese.

“I’ve never heard of another dog that made fast friends with Mongolians with so little loss of time, Tom,” observed the plinger while he and his pal watched the queer capers cut by dog and heathens by way of announcing their mutual pleasure of meeting.

The tramps had again started to leave the laundry when they were halted by a question broached by the master of the washery.

“Where did you catchum dog?” queried the Celestial, seeming most anxious to have this information.



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