They invariably grinned and cried out: "Hello, Mary, you here again ?" Her grey head wagged in many a court.

She always besieged the bench with voluble excuses, explanations, apologies and prayers.

Her flaming face and rolling eyes were a sort of familiar sight on the island.

She measured time by means of sprees, and was eternally swollen and dishevelled.
One day the young man, Pete, who as a lad had smitten the Devil's Row urchin in the back of the head and put to flight the antagonists of his friend, Jimmie, strutted upon the scene.

He met Jimmie one day on the street, promised to take him to a boxing match in Williamsburg, and called for him in the evening.
Maggie observed Pete.
He sat on a table in the Johnson home and dangled his checked legs with an enticing nonchalance.