Nimble Ike, the Trick Ventriloquist A Rousing Tale of Fun and Frolic

Excerpt: ''You have bags of gold, and do you refuse to give me just a little?' 'Not one cent.' 'I helped you to earn that money.' 'Yes.' 'And you refuse to give me any, and you are going away?' 'I refuse to give you any and I am going away.' The above dialogue occurred in a room on the top floor of a great tenement house, and a strangely picturesque scene was presented. An old man with frowzy hair, and deep-set eyes illuminating a dark and wrinkled face, sat by a table. Opposite to the old man was a bright-faced lad of thirteen or fourteen. The furnishings of the room were reasonably comfortable and on the table burned a flickering candle. Indeed the whole scene was weird and strange in the extreme.'