ed gentleman, then glares at him
pugnaciously._] Say, who d'yuh tink yuh're bumpin'? Tink yuh own de
oith?

GENTLEMAN--[_Coldly and affectedly._] I beg your pardon. [_He has not
looked at YANK and passes on without a glance, leaving him bewildered._]

LONG--[_Rushing up and grabbing YANK's arm._] 'Ere! Come away! This
wasn't what I meant. Yer'll 'ave the bloody coppers down on us.

YANK--[_Savagely--giving him a push that sends him sprawling._] G'wan!

LONG--[_Picks himself up--hysterically._] I'll pop orf then. This ain't
what I meant. And whatever 'appens, yer can't blame me. [_He slinks off
left._]

YANK--T' hell wit youse! [_He approaches a lady--with a vicious grin
and a smirking wink._] Hello, Kiddo. How's every little ting? Got
anyting on for to-night? I know an old boiler down to de docks we kin
crawl into. [_The lady stalks by without a look, without a change of
pace. YANK turns to others--insultingly._] Holy smokes, what a mug! Go
hide yuhself before de horses shy at yuh. Gee, pipe de heinie on dat
one! Say, youse, yuh look like de stoin of a ferryboat. Paint and
powder! All dolled up to kill! Yuh look like stiffs laid out for de
boneyard! Aw, g'wan, de lot of youse! Yuh give me de eye-ache. Yuh
don't belong, get me! Look at me, why don't youse dare? I belong, dat's
me! [_Pointing to a skyscraper across the street which is in process of
construction--with bravado._] See dat building goin' up dere? See de
steel work? Steel, dat's me! Youse guys live on it and tink yuh're
somep'n. But I'm IN it, see! I'm de hoistin' engine dat makes it go up!
I'm it--de inside and bottom of it! Sure! I'm steel and steam and smoke
and de rest of it! It moves--speed--twenty-five stories up--and me at
de top and bottom--movin'! Youse simps don't move. Yuh're on'y dolls I
winds up to see 'm spin. Yuh're de garbage, get me--de leavins--de
ashes we dump over de side! Now, whata yuh gotto say? [_But as they
seem neither to see nor hear him, he flies into a fury._] Bums! Pigs!
Tarts! Bitches! [_He turns in a rage on the men, bumping viciously into
them but not jarring them the least bit. Rather it is he who recoils
after each collision. He keeps growling._] Git off de oith! G'wan, yuh
bum! Look where yuh're goin,' can't yuh? Git outa here! Fight, why
don't yuh? Put up yer mits! Don't be a dog! Fight or I'll knock yuh
dead! [_But, without seeming to see him, they all answer with
mechanical affected politeness:_] I beg your pardon. [