Another classic tale for Christmas, as collected and annotated by Bill Russo.
Sadly, almost forgotten today is the world of Damon Runyon. It still exists in New York City around
Broadway, but unhappily his stories and the collection of odd characters that
brought them to life are rarely seen or heard in the 2000’s. Theater goers and movie goers once knew his
tales well, when they were assembled and put into a 1955 film called ‘Guys and
Dolls’ starring Frank Sinatra.
For Christmas this year, let’s return to those thrilling days of the fabulous
1950s and to a world of hilarious ‘gangsters’ created by Runyon, the sports
writer who became one of America’s greatest yarn spinners.
Here’s a 3600 word sample of one of Runyon's best - a holiday prank with unexpected results
Dancing Dan's Christmas, by Damon Runyon
So it’s almost Christmas, and in fact it is the evening before
Christmas, and I am in Good Time Charley Bernstein's little speakeasy in West
Forty-seventh Street, wishing Charley a Merry Christmas and having a few hot
Tom and Jerrys with him.
This hot Tom and Jerry is an old time drink that is once used by one
and all in this country to celebrate Christmas with, and in fact it is once so
popular that many New York people think Christmas is invented only to furnish
an excuse for hot Tom and Jerry, although of course this is by no means true.
(Editor’s note. The Tom and
Jerry is made with rum, brandy and hot milk – it’s a variant of egg nog that
was devised in 1821. The name comes not
from the Tom and Jerry cartoons, but from a popular book published the same
year as the ‘invention’ of the drink.)
But anybody will tell you that there is nothing that brings out the
true holiday spirit like hot Tom and Jerry, and I hear that since Tom and Jerry
goes out of style in the United States, the holiday spirit is never quite the
same.
Well, as Good Time Charley and I are expressing our holiday sentiments
to each other over our hot Tom and Jerry, and I am trying to think up the poem
about the night before Christmas and all through the house, which I know will
interest Charley no little, all of a sudden there is a big knock at the front
door, and when Charley opens the door, who comes in carrying a large package
under one arm but a guy by the name of Dancing Dan.
This Dancing Dan is a good-looking young guy, who always seems
well-dressed, and he is called by the name of Dancing Dan because he is a great
hand for dancing around and about with dolls in night clubs, and other spots
where there is any dancing. In fact, Dan never seems to be doing anything else,
although I hear rumors that when he is not dancing he is carrying on in a most
illegal manner at one thing and another. But of course you can always hear
rumors in this town about anybody, and personally I am rather fond of Dancing
Dan as he always seems to be getting a great belt out of life.
Anybody in town will tell you that Dancing Dan is a guy with no
Barnaby whatever in him, and in fact he has about as much gizzard as anybody
around, although I wish to say I always question his judgment in dancing so
much with Miss Muriel O'Neill, who works in the Half Moon night club. And the
reason I question his judgment in this respect is because everybody knows that
Miss Muriel O'Neill is a doll who is very well thought of by Heine Schmitz, and
Heine Schmitz is not such a guy as will take kindly to anybody dancing more
than once and a half with a doll that he thinks well of.
Well, anyway, as Dancing Dan comes in, he weighs up the joint in one
quick peek, and then he tosses the package he is carrying into a corner where
it goes plunk, as if there is something very heavy in it, and then he steps up
to the bar alongside of Charley and me and wishes to know what we are drinking.
Naturally we start boosting hot Tom and Jerry to Dancing Dan, and he
says he will take a crack at it with us, and after one crack, Dancing Dan says
he will have another crack, and Merry Christmas to us with it, and the first
thing anybody knows it is a couple of hours later and we still are still having
cracks at the hot Tom and Jerry with Dancing Dan, and Dan says he never drinks
anything so soothing in his life. In fact, Dancing Dan says he will recommend
Tom and Jerry to everybody he knows, only he does not know anybody good enough
for Tom and Jerry, except maybe Miss Muriel O'Neill, and she does not drink
anything with drugstore rye in it.
Well, several times while we are drinking this Tom and Jerry,
customers come to the door of Good Time Charley's little speakeasy and knock, but
by now Charley is commencing to be afraid they will wish Tom and Jerry, too,
and he does not feel we will have enough for ourselves, so he hangs out a sign
which says "Closed on Account of Christmas," and the only one he will
let in is a guy by the name of Ooky, who is nothing but an old rumdum, and who
is going around all week dressed like Santa Claus and carrying a sign
advertising Moe Lewinsky's clothing joint around in Sixth Avenue.
This Ooky is still wearing his Santa Claus outfit when Charley lets
him in, and the reason Charley permits such a character as Ooky in his joint is
because Ooky does the porter work for Charley when he is not Santa Claus for
Moe Lewinsky, such as sweeping out, and washing the glasses, and one thing and
another.
Well, it is about nine-thirty when Ooky comes in, and his puppies are
aching, and he is all petered out generally from walking up and down and here
and there with his sign, for any time a guy is Santa Claus for Moe Lewinsky he
must earn his dough. In fact, Ooky is so fatigued, and his puppies hurt him so
much that Dancing Dan and Good Time Charley and I all feel very sorry for him,
and invite him to have a few mugs of hot Tom and Jerry with us, and wish him
plenty of Merry Christmas.
But old Ooky is not accustomed to Tom and Jerry and after about the
fifth mug he folds up in a chair, and goes right to sleep on us. He is wearing
a pretty good Santa Claus make-up, what with a nice red suit trimmed with white
cotton, and a wig, and false nose, and long white whiskers, and a big sack
stuffed with excelsior on his back, and if I do not know Santa Claus is not apt
to be such a guy as will snore loud enough to rattle the windows, I will think
Ooky is Santa Claus sure enough.
Well, we forget Ooky and let him sleep, and go on with our hot Tom and
Jerry, and in the meantime we try to think up a few songs appropriate to
Christmas, and Dancing Dan finally renders My Dad's Dinner Pail in a nice
baritone and very loud, while I do first rate with Will You Love Me in December
As You Do in May?
About midnight Dancing Dan wishes to see how he looks as Santa Claus.
So Good Time Charley and I help Dancing Dan pull off Ooky's outfit and
put it on Dan, and this is easy as Ooky only has this Santa Claus outfit on
over his ordinary clothes, and he does not even wake up when we are undressing
him of the Santa Claus uniform.
Well, I wish to say I see many a Santa Claus in my time, but I never
see a better looking Santa Claus than Dancing Dan, especially after he gets the
wig and white whiskers fixed just right, and we put a sofa pillow that Good
Time Charley happens to have around the joint for the cat to sleep on down his
pants to give Dancing Dan a nice fat stomach such as Santa Claus is bound to
have.
"Well," Charley finally says, "it is a great pity we do
not know where there are some stockings hung up somewhere, because then,"
he says, "you can go around and stuff things in these stockings, as I
always hear this is the main idea of a Santa Claus. But," Charley says, "I
do not suppose anybody in this section has any stockings hung up, or if they
have," he says, "the chances are they are so full of holes they will
not hold anything. Anyway," Charley says, "even if there are any
stockings hung up we do not have anything to stuff in them, although
personally, " he says, "I will gladly donate a few pints of
Scotch."
Well, I am pointing out that we have no reindeer and that a Santa
Claus is bound to look like a terrible sap if he goes around without any
reindeer, but Charley's remarks seem to give Dancing Dan an idea, for all of a
sudden he speaks as follows:
"Why," Dancing Dan says, "I know where a stocking is
hung up. It is hung up at Miss Muriel O'Neill's flat over here in West
Forty-ninth Street. This stocking is hung up by nobody but a party by the name
of Gammer O'Neill, who is Miss Muriel O'Neill's grandmamma, " Dancing Dan
says. "Gammer O'Neill is going on ninety-odd," he says, "and
Miss Muriel O'Neill told me she cannot hold out much longer, what with one
thing and another, including being a little childish in spots.
"Now," Dancing Dan says, "I remember Miss Muriel
O'Neill is telling me just the other night how Gammer O'Neill hangs up her
stocking on Christmas Eve all her life, and," he says, "I judge from
what Miss Muriel O'Neill says that the old doll always believes Santa Claus
will come along one Christmas and fill the stocking full of beautiful gifts.
But," Dancing Dan says, "Miss Muriel O'Neill tells me Santa Claus
never does this, though Miss Muriel O'Neill personally always takes a few gifts
home and puts them into the stocking to make Gammer O'Neill feel better.
"But, of course," Dancing Dan says, "these gifts are
nothing much because Miss Muriel O'Neill is very poor, and proud, and also
good, and will not take a dime off of anybody and I can lick the guy who says
she will.
"Now," Dancing Dan goes on, "it seems that while Gammer
O'Neill is very happy to get whatever she finds in her stocking on Christmas
morning, she does not understand why Santa Claus is not more liberal, and,"
he says, "Miss Muriel O'Neill is saying to me that she only wishes she can
give Gammer O'Neill one real big Christmas before the old doll puts her checks
back in the rack.
"So," Dancing Dan states, "here is a job for us. Miss
Muriel O'Neill and her grandmamma live all alone in this flat over in West
Forty-ninth street, and," he says, "at such an hour as this Miss
Muriel O'Neill is bound to be working, and the chances are Gammer O'Neill is
sound asleep, and we will just hop over there and Santa Claus will fill up her
stocking with beautiful gifts. "
Well, I say, I do not see where we are going to get any beautiful
gifts at his time of night, what with all the stores being closed, unless we
dash into an all-night drug store and buy a few bottles of perfume and a bum
toilet set is guys always do when they forget about their ever-loving wives
until after store hours on Christmas Eve, but Dancing Dan says never mind about
this, but let us have a few more Tom and Jerrys first.
So we have a few more Tom and Jerrys and then Dancing Dan picks up he
package he heaves into the corner, and dumps most of the excelsior out of
Ooky's Santa Claus sack, and puts the bundle in, and Good Time Charley turns
out all the lights, but one, and leaves a bottle of Scotch on the able in front
of Ooky for a Christmas gift, and away we go.
Personally, I regret very much leaving the hot Tom and Jerry, but then
I'm also very enthusiastic about going along to help Dancing Dan play Santa
Claus, while Good Time Charley is practically overjoyed, as it is the first
time in his life Charley is ever mixed up in so much holiday spirit.
As we go up Broadway, headed for Forty-ninth Street, Charley and I see
many citizens we know and give them a large hello, and wish them Merry
Christmas, and some of these citizens shake hands with Santa Claus, not knowing
he is nobody but Dancing Dan, although later I understand there's some gossip
among these citizens because they claim a Santa Claus with such a breath on him
as our Santa Claus has is a little out of line.
And once we are somewhat embarrassed when a lot of little kids going
home with their parents from a late Christmas party somewhere gather about
Santa Claus with shouts of childish glee, and some of them wish to climb up
Santa Claus' legs. Naturally, Santa Claus gets a little peevish, and calls them
a few names, and one of the parents comes up and wishes to know what is the
idea of Santa Claus using such language, and Santa Claus takes a punch at the
parent, all of which is no doubt astonishing to the little kids who have an
idea of Santa Claus as a very kindly old guy.
Well, finally we arrive in front of the place where Dancing Dan says
Miss Muriel O'Neill and her grandmamma live, and it is nothing but a tenement
house not far back off Madison Square Garden, and furthermore it is a walk-up,
and at this time there are no lights burning in the joint except a gas jet in
the main hall, and by the light of this jet we look at the names on the letter
boxes, such as you always find in the hall of these joints, and we see that
Miss Muriel O'Neill and her grandmamma live on the fifth floor.
This is the top floor, and personally I do not like the idea of
walking up five flights of stairs, and I am willing to let Dancing Dan and Good
Time Charley go, but Dancing Dan insists we must all go, and finally I agree
with him because Charley is commencing to argue that the right way for us to do
is to get on the roof and let Santa Claus go down a chimney, and is making so
much noise I am afraid he will wake somebody up.
So up the stairs we climb and finally we come to a door on the top
floor that has a little card in a slot that says O'Neill, so we know we reach
our destination. Dancing Dan first tries the knob, and right away the door
opens, and we are in a little two- or three-room flat, with not much furniture
in it, and what furniture there is, is very poor. One single gas jet is burning
near a bed in a room just off the one the door opens into, and by this light we
see a very old doll is sleeping on the bed, so we judge this is nobody but
Gammer O'Neill.
On her face is a large smile, as if she is dreaming of something very
pleasant. On a chair at the head of the bed is hung a long black stocking, and
it seems to be such a stocking as is often patched and mended, so I can see
that what Miss Muriel O'Neill tells Dancing Dan about her grandmamma hanging up
her stocking is really true, although up to this time I have my doubts.
Finally Dancing Dan unslings the sack on his back, and takes out his
package, and unties this package, and all of a sudden out pops a raft of big
diamond bracelets, and diamond rings, and diamond brooches, and diamond
necklaces, and I do not know what else in the way of diamonds, and Dancing Dan
and I begin stuffing these diamonds into the stocking and Good Time Charley
pitches in and helps us.
There are enough diamonds to fill the stocking to the muzzle, and it
is no small stocking, at that, and I judge that Gammer O'Neill has a pretty
fair set of bunting sticks when she is young. In fact, there are so many
diamonds that we have enough left over to make a nice little pile on the chair
after we fill the stocking plumb up, leaving a nice diamond-studded vanity case
sticking out the top where we figure it will hit Gammer O'Neill's eye when she
wakes up.
And it is not until I get out in the fresh air again that all of a
sudden I remember seeing large headlines in the afternoon papers about a five
hundred-G's stickup in the afternoon of one of the biggest diamond merchants in
Maiden Lane while he is sitting in his office, and I also recall once hearing
rumors that Dancing Dan is one of the best lone-hand git-'em-up guys** in the
world.
Naturally, I commence to wonder if I am in the proper company when I
am with Dancing Dan, even if he is Santa Claus. So I leave him on the next
corner arguing with Good Time Charley about whether they ought to go and find
some more presents somewhere, and look for other stockings to stuff, and I
hasten on home and go to bed.
The next day I find I have such a noggin that I do not care to stir
around, and in fact I do not stir around much for a couple of weeks.
Then one night I drop around to Good Time Charley's little speakeasy,
and ask Charley what is doing.
"Well," Charley says, "many things are doing, and
personally," he says, "I'm greatly surprised I do not see you at
Gammer O'Neill's wake.
"You know Gammer O'Neill leaves this wicked old world a couple of
days after Christmas," Good Time Charley says, "and," he says,
"Miss Muriel O'Neill states that Doc Moggs claims it is at least a day
after she is entitled to go, but she is sustained," Charley says, "by
great happiness in finding her stocking filled with beautiful gifts on
Christmas morning.
"According to Miss Muriel O'Neill," Charley says,
"Gammer O'Neill dies practically convinced that there is a Santa Claus,
although of course," he says, "Miss Muriel O'Neill does not tell her
the real owner of the gifts, an all-right guy by the name of Shapiro leaves the
gifts with her after Miss Muriel O'Neill notifies him of finding of same.
"It seems," Charley says, "this Shapiro is a
tender-hearted guy, who is willing to help keep Gammer O'Neill with us a little
longer when Doc Moggs says leaving the gifts with her will do it.
"So," Charley says, "everything is quite all right, as
the coppers cannot figure anything except that maybe the rascal who takes the
gifts from Shapiro gets conscience-stricken, and leaves them the first place he
can, and Miss Muriel O'Neill receives a ten-G's reward for finding the gifts
and returning them. And," Charley says, "I hear Dancing Dan is in San
Francisco and is figuring on reforming and becoming a dancing teacher, so he
can marry Miss Muriel O'Neill, and of course, " he says, "we all hope
and trust she never learns any details of Dancing Dan's career."
* * *
Well, it is Christmas Eve a year later that I run into a guy by the
name of Shotgun Sam, who is mobbed up with Heine Schmitz in Harlem, and who is
a very, very obnoxious character indeed.
"Well, well, well," Shotgun says, "the last time I see
you is another Christmas Eve like this, and you are coming out of Good Time
Charley's joint, and," he says, "you certainly have your pots
on."
"Well, Shotgun," I says, "I am sorry you get such a
wrong impression of me, but the truth is," I say, "on the occasion
you speak of, I am suffering from a dizzy feeling in my head."
"It is all right with me," Shotgun says. "I have a tip
this guy Dancing Dan is in Good Time Charley's the night I see you, and Mockie
Morgan, and GunnerJack and me are casing the joint, because," he says,
"Heine Schmitz is all sored up at Dan over some doll, although of
course," Shotgun says, "it is all right now, as Heine has another
doll.
"Anyway," he says, "we never get to see Dancing Dan. We
watch the joint from six-thirty in the evening until daylight Christmas
morning, and nobody goes in all night but old Ooky the Santa Claus guy in his
Santa Claus makeup, and," Shotgun says, "nobody comes out except you
and Good Time Charley and Ooky.
"Well," Shotgun says, "it is a great break for Dancing
Dan he never goes in or comes out of Good Time Charley's, at that,
because," he says, "we are waiting for him on the second-floor front
of the building across the way with some nice little sawed-offs, and are under
orders from Heine not to miss. "
"Well, Shotgun," I say, "Merry Christmas."
"Well, all right," Shotgun says, "Merry
Christmas."
The End
What a treasure these old pictures are!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Zed for reading the story and for taking the time to comment.
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