I am afraid, now that I see these facts written down, that Gallegher
was not a reputable character; but he was so very young and so very
old for his years that we all liked him very much nevertheless. He
lived in the extreme northern part of Philadelphia, where the cotton-
and woollen-mills run down to the river, and how he ever got home
after leaving the _Press_ building at two in the morning, was one
of the mysteries of the office. Sometimes he caught a night car, and
sometimes he walked all the way, arriving at the little house, where
his mother and himself lived alone, at four in the morning.
Occasionally he was given a ride on an early milk-cart, or on one of
the newspaper delivery wagons, with its high piles of papers still
damp and sticky from the press. He knew several drivers of "night
hawks"--those cabs that prowl the streets at night looking for belated
passengers--and when it was a very cold morning he would not go home
at all, but would crawl into one of these cabs and sleep, curled up on
the cushions, until daylight.
Besides being quick and cheerful, Gallegher possessed a power of
amusing the _Press's_ young men to a degree seldom attained by the
ordinary mortal.
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