Dave Ranney: Or, Thirty Years on the Bowery; An AutobiographyRanney, Dave
Religion
Dave Ranney: Or, Thirty Years on the Bowery; An Autobiography
Ranney, Dave
American Tract Society
I had lots of time on my hands, and you know the saying, "Satan finds
some mischief still for idle hands to do." He certainly found plenty for
me. The boss was a great smoker and bought his cigars by the box. He
asked me if I smoked, and I said no, for I had not begun to smoke as
yet. Well, he left the box of cigars around, always open, so I thought I
would try one, and I took a couple out of the box. See how the Devil
works with a fellow. He seemed to say, "Now if you take them from the
top he will miss them," so he showed me how to take them from the
bottom. I took out the cigars that were on top, and when I got to the
bottom of the box I crossed a couple and took the cigars, and you could
not tell that any had been taken out. That was the beginning of my
stealing. The cigars were not missed, and I thought how easy it was, but
this beginning proved to be just a stepping-stone to what followed.
I did not smoke the cigars then, but waited until I got home. After
supper I went out and met Mike ----, and gave him one of them, and I
started in to smoke my first cigar. Mike could smoke and not get sick,
but there never was a sicker boy than I was. I thought I was going to
die then and there and I said, "No more cigars for me." I recovered,
however, and as usual forgot my good resolutions. That turned out to be
the beginning of my smoking habit, and I was a good judge of a cigar
when I was but fourteen years of age. I went on stealing them until the
boss tumbled that some one was taking them and locked them up for safe
keeping. I never smoked a cigarette in all my life. I know it takes
away a young fellow's brains and I really class cigarettes next to drink
and would warn boys never to smoke them.
I had been in the office now about three months. At the end of each
month I received a check for $12. It seemed a fortune to me and I hated
to give it in at the house. The third month I received the check as
usual, made out to bearer. Well, I went home and gave the check to
mother, and she said I was a good boy and gave me fifty cents to spend.
I watched my mother and saw her put the check in an unused pitcher in
the closet on the top shelf. It seemed as though some one was beside me
all the time telling me to take it and have a good time. It belonged to
me and no one else had a right to it, Satan seemed to say. And what a
good time I could have with it! They would never suspect me of taking
it, and I could have it cashed and no one would ever know.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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