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... ion desk--pills rolled out on its own pill-tile, divided with a spatula, rolled car insurance rates with the finger and thumb, dusted with calcined magnesia and delivered in little round pasteboard pill-boxes. The store is on a corner about which coveys of ragged-plumed, hilarious children play and become candidates for the cough drops and soothing syrups that wait for insurance company them inside. Ikey Schoenstein was the night clerk of the Blue Light and the friend of his customers. Thus it is on the East Side, where the heart of pharmacy is not glacщ. There, as it should be, the druggist is a counsellor, a confessor, an adviser, an able and willing missionary and mentor whose learning is respected, whose occult wisdom is venerated and whose medicine is often poured, untasted, into the gutter. Therefore insurance company Ikey's corniform, be-spectacled nose and narrow, knowledge-bowed figure was well known in the vicinity of the Blue Light, and his advice and notice were much desired. Ikey roomed and car insurance rates breakfasted at Mrs. Riddle's two squares away. Mrs. Riddle had a daughter named Rosy. The car insurance rates ThirdPart400_500 circumlocution has been in vain--you must have guessed it--Ikey adored Rosy. She tinctured all his thoughts; she was the compound extract of all that was chemically pure and officinal--the car insurance rates dispensatory contained nothing equal to her. But Ikey was timid, and his hopes remained insoluble in the menstruum of his backwardness and fears.

Behind his counter he was a superior being, calmly conscious of special knowledge and worth; outside he was a weak-kneed, purblind, motorman-cursed rambler, with ill-fitting clothes stained with chemicals and smelling of socotrine aloes and valerianate of ammonia. The fly in Ikey's car insurance rates ointment (thrice welcome, pat trope!) was Chunk McGowan. Mr. McGowan was also striving to catch the bright smiles tossed about by Rosy.

But he was no outfielder as Ikey was; he picked them off the bat. At the same time he was Ikey's friend and customer, and often dropped in at the Blue Light Drug Store to have a bruise painted with iodine or get a cut


rubber-plastered after a pleasant evening spent along the Bowery. One afternoon McGowan drifted in in his silent, easy way, and

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sat, comely, smooth-faced, hard, indomitable, insurance company good-natured, upon a stool. "Ikey," said he, when his

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friend had fetched his mortar and car insurance rates sat opposite, grinding gum benzoin to a powder, "get busy with your car insurance rates ear. It's drugs for me if you've got the line I need." Ikey scanned the countenance of Mr. McGowan for the usual evidences of conflict, but found none. "Take your coat off," he ordered. "I guess already that you have been stuck in the ribs with a knife. I have many times told you those Dagoes would do you up." Mr. McGowan smiled. "Not them," he said. "Not any Dagoes. But you've located the diagnosis all right enough--it's under my coat, near the ribs. Say! Ikey--Rosy and me are goin' to run away and get married to-night." Ikey's left forefinger was doubled over the edge of the mortar, holding it steady. He gave it a wild rap with the pestle, but felt it not. Meanwhile Mr. McGowan's smile faded to a look of

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perplexed gloom. "That is," he continued, "if she keeps in the notion until the time comes. We've been layin' pipes for the getaway for two weeks. One day she says she will; the same evenin' she says nixy. We've agreed on to-night, and Rosy's stuck to the affirmative this time for two whole days. But it's five hours yet till the time, and I'm afraid she'll stand me up when it comes to the scratch." "You said you wanted drugs," remarked Ikey. Mr. McGowan looked ill at ease and harassed--a condition opposed to his usual line of demeanour. He made a patent-medicine almanac into a roll and fitted it with unprofitable carefulness about his finger. "I wouldn't have this double handicap make a false start to-night for a million," he said. "I've got a little flat up in Harlem all ready, with chrysanthemums on the table and a kettle ready to boil. And I've engaged a pulpit pounder to insurance companies be ready at his house for us at 9.30. It's got to come off. And if Rosy don't change her mind again!"--Mr.

McGowan ceased, a prey to his car insurance rates doubts. "I don't see then yet," said Ikey, shortly, "what makes it that you talk of drugs, or what I can be doing about it." "Old man R ...

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