Word: irishman
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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JARNEGAN-Jim Tully-A. & C. Boni ($2). You have seen him hauling trunks, tending bar, laying bricks, coupling freight cars, lifting circus weights, fighting in alleys; sporting diamonds, bawling from a political platform, pawing pretty girls, bouncing drunks from a night club. He is a redheaded Irishman with a chest like an oak, rumpled red hair, cracked knuckles, a throat for pints of whiskey, ears for the rumble of life. His eyes are humorous, quick, lonely. He was born in a slum, educated by existence. Perhaps he is a prison graduate, bitterly "bumped." With slight intelligence but unlimited understanding...
Once a youth-no common youth-wore a soiled waiter's apron as he hustled behind the counter of the old Indianapolis Union Station. People called him "Tom." Even Republicans liked this jovial pushing Irishman, were glad to help him when later he bought the eating-house, hustled still more, bought the Grand Hotel. More people called him "Tom," so he entered politics, became identified with every state campaign for 20 years and more. Indiana took to its dusty bosom this free-and-easy politician without any "dog"* who accepted and played politics with good-humored cynicism...
...Come on over into New York State," said a florid Irishman with gold teeth to a freckle-faced Irishman. They were shaking hands, and at a yank from Gold Teeth, Freckles crossed the border. "Come over to New Jersey," grinned Freckles, returning the yank. "I'll show you a good state!" The scene was 100 feet under the oozy bottom of the Hudson River and the Irishmen were Governors Smith of New York and Moore of New Jersey, "two outstanding Wets in a dry spot." They had on their tops hats and morning coats, for they were met- where...
...work was laden with a heavy ego. He lacked the quiet clarity of Dr. Henry Seidel Canby of the Saturday Review. He was an lowan, with the midlander's tendency to lunge into emotional appreciations. Sparkle was not in him, as it is in that erudite, free-lancing Irishman, Ernest Boyd. His opinions savored strongly of the pundit, even after he dropped the P. from his signature and wrote more as a journalist than as a professor at the University of Illinois. And this was a ponderous pundit, not an explosive, like "the diabolical little boy with a bean...
...Vergil with any Etonian. A younger one-"Pedge" he was called-is bound for a medical career. He began by helping Tombino with the veterinary duties of the camp, and later-through Tombino's shrewdness and hospitality-acquired books on the subject from a London publicity-man, an Irishman with a bent for the free life, whom Tombino received first as a guest, then as an assistant in the coconut shies and finally, with due ceremony, as a blood brother...