Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax, Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions

New York

Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax, Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions

Max original film Gangs of New York was released December 20th, 2002.

Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax, Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions
Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax, Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions
Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax, Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions

#GangsofNewYork made $193.7M at the international box office.

rottentomatoes: 73%

metacritic: 72

imdb: 7.5

oscars: 10 nominations

golden globes: 2 wins

SAG awards: 1 win

Billy the Butcher, Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax , Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions, Daniel Day-Lewis
Billy the Butcher, Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax , Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions, Daniel Day-Lewis

William Cutting

The Butcher of Five Points is a local kingpin in New York City, New York.

Best Actor in a Leading Role

1 nomination: 2003

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama

1 nomination: 2003

Outstanding Performance by a Male Actor in a Leading Role

1 win: 2003

Billy the Butcher, Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax , Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions, Daniel Day-Lewis

“Is this it, Priest? The pope’s new army? A few crusty bitches and a handful of ragtags? Bene. On my challenge… by the ancient laws of combat, we have met at this chosen ground to settle for good and all, who holds sway over the Five Points. Us Natives, born right-wise to this fine land… or the foreign hordes defiling it. Then may the Christian Lord guide my hand against your Roman popery! Priest! Look to me. Who is this under my knife? Soon be over, Priest. You may need this across the river. Ears and noses will be the trophies of the day. But no hand shall touch him! No hand shall touch him! He’ll cross over whole, in honor. It’s fair. A touch indelicate, but fair. Look at me. Give him to the law. See he gets a good education. Priest Vallon died a noble death… …but his Dead Rabbits is done and outlawed! Let no one even speak their name from this time on.” — Bill the Butcher

“That’s the spirit, boys. Go off and die for your blackie friends. We should’ve run a better man against Lincoln when we had the chance. You ain’t. Good evening, brother. Mr. Tweed. Don’t mind him. He used to be an Irishman. I’ve noticed you there. You may have noticed me. If only I had the guns, Mr. Tweed. I’d shoot each and every one of them before they set foot on American soil.” — Bill the Butcher

“Mulberry Street and Worth. Cross and Orange and Little Water. Each of the Five Points is a finger. When I close my hand, it becomes a fist. And any time that I wish, I can turn it against you. You’re talking about muscle work. You own the crushers. Get them to do it.” — Bill the Butcher

“There’s the Black Joke! Let’s take them on the cobbles. Go spill some claret, boys. Go on, Shorty, have a nice muss. What’s the point? The fire’s near burned anything of value inside.” — Bill the Butcher

“John. Welcome. Mate of yours? Where’s he from? You. That’s close enough. Your friend can’t look me in the eye. That’s not an admirable characteristic. This is whist. This is a gentleman’s game. Make a gentleman’s bet. That ain’t large. Please, don’t make that noise again, Harvey. I like a man whos’ willing to burn for his swag. How do you fare on water? Come closer. Close, John. I ain’t gonna bite. There’s a Portuguese ship lying low in the harbor, quarantined three weeks. Get there before the Daybreak Boys strip her, maybe you and me will talk more. Good boy. And you, whatever your name is. What is your name? Amsterdam? I’m New York. Don’t you never come in here empty-handed again. You gotta pay for the pleasure of my company. Take him for a boat ride, John. Who knows, but he might save your life again.” — Bill the Butcher

“What’s that word? I didn’t ask the meaning. I asked the word. Ghoul? That’s a good word. ‘Ghoul Gang Slaughters. A Fresh Out– Outrage in the Five Points.’ That’s a notice you can be proud of. Thank you. Why? They could have left that ship with nothing. Instead, they made The Police Gazette, a periodical of note. These two are just a pair of bog-eating sons of Irish bitches, same as you. It doesn’t seem to bother them none. But then maybe they don’t share your religious scruples. All right, that’ll do. That’ll do. That’ll do, for chrissake. Drag him off. McGloin, how would that head look without the ears and the nose on it? I think I’m gonna trim the ears and the beak off of that head. Make a nice pot of soup of that head. The mighty McGloin almost fish-hooked by a sprat.” — Bill the Butcher

“On the seventh day, the Lord rested, but before that he did, he squatted over the side of England, and what came out of him was Ireland. No offense, son. In which part of that excrementitious isle were your forebears spawned? I was raised in a very similar establishment myself. Now everything you see belongs to me, to one degree or another. The beggars and newsboys and quick thieves here in Paradise. The sailor dives and gin mills, and blind tigers on the waterfront. The anglers and amusers, the she-hes and the Chinks. Everybody owes, everybody pays because that’s how you stand up against the rising of the tide. Is that right, boys?” — Bill the Butcher

“Good day to you, Mulraney. Slum sociable. The Schemerhorns of Fifth Avenue scarcely require an introduction from you, Jack. Horace Greeley, the famous publisher. A pleasure and an honor, sir. I’m William Cutting. As of this moment, extremely well, thank you. How do you do? Mm, orange blossom. Delicious. What a peach. She could have a fine career on the stage. Mr. Greeley. The Points welcomes you. You are welcome to these streets and will pass in safety. Well, draw it mild, son. Happy Jack don’t fill his lungs without I tell him he may do so. Why don’t you hang it up there and see? Someday is right. Just another bastard son of Erin I folded in the warmth of my embrace.” — Bill the Butcher

“You get to know a lot butchering meat. We’re made up of the same things: flesh and blood tissue, organs. I love to work with pigs. The nearest thing in nature to the flesh of a man is the flesh of a pig. That’s right. This is for you, Mother. God bless you. She ain’t really my mother. This is the liver. The kidneys. The heart. This is a wound. The stomach will bleed and bleed. This is a kill. This is a kill. The main artery. This is a kill. You try. Go ahead. The lung. Good. Don’t foul the blade on the rib. Very good. Main artery. Bleed him slow. Let him think about it for a while. Slow death. Good.” — Bill the Butcher

Amsterdam Vallon, Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax , Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions, Leonardo DiCaprio

Amsterdam Vallon

“Some of it I half remember. And the rest… the rest I took from dreams. St. Michael. St. Michael! He cast Satan out of paradise. Johnny. Natives against the Dead Rabbits. What do you think? Dead Rabbits. Father, get up. Get up! No! Let go of me!”

“Thank you, reverend. In the second year of the great Civil War when the Irish Brigade marched through the streets New York was a city full of tribes, war chiefs, rich and poor. It wasn’t a city, really. It was more a furnace where a city some day might be forged. The angriest talk was of the new Conscription Act. When the Irish came, the city was in a fever. Since the time of the great famine, they’d come streaming off the boats. And they got a right warm welcome. I only came two hours downriver from Hellgate, but they all took me for an immigrant. Why not? There were a thousand different accents in New York, and to the Natives, you see, we was all the same.”

“New York loved William Tweed, and hated him. And those of us trying to be thieves, well, we couldn’t help but admire him. Ah, the Five Points. Murderers’ Alley. Brickbat Mansion. The Gates of Hell. Every year, the reformers came. Every year the Points got worse, as if it liked being dirty. St. Michael, the archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protector against the snares and the wickedness of the devil. Give me the strength for what I must do. I just like it down here is all. Now, look, boys, I really don’t want a fight. I told you I didn’t want a fight! You, get away from me, understand? What? Oh, that was you? They just locked me up, you know that? Well, I kept trying to escape, you know. They add on time for that. I guess I missed the place.”

“Who are the gangs around now? Do any of them got the sand of the Dead Rabbits? When I was in the blockhouse, the Chinks told me that the Natives celebrate their victory every year. Is that true? Maybe not, but we’re deep thinkers. She is a prim-looking stargazer. But I’d check my pockets if I was you, because I do believe she lifted your timepiece. Is that right? We always liked a good fire in the Points. We could generally pick up a little swag, and if the cops come along, then you really got a show. The Municipal Police fought the Metropolitan Police. The Metropolitan Police, they fought the street gangs. There were 37 amateur fire brigades, and they all fought each other.”

“Grab what you can, Johnny. Let’s get out of here. Johnny! Johnny! Come on. Come on, Johnny, get up. Leave that! How’s the beak? That’s it. My approval? What’s the matter, Jack Sprat? Can’t you think for yourself? Every year, the Natives celebrated the killing of my father all over again. At Sparrow’s Chinese Pagoda on Mott Street. The Chinks hated the Natives worse than we did. The drum rolls, and the Butcher drinks a glass of fire. When you kill a king… you don’t stab him in the dark. You kill him where the whole court can watch him die.”

“Hey, you got any timber? Amsterdam, sir. I’ll do it myself in a minute if you don’t keep quiet. I never liked the harbor after dark. And now, each night, the bodies of soldiers… it was a mournful sight. But we had business of our own. What in the hell? Jimmy, get down! Let’s take a look. Jesus, they killed everybody. There’s nothing here but a bunch of dead sea-crabs. No, you damn fool, take him! Look in my glims. I said no less than 15. Four hours most. Much obliged, gents.”

“Uh, it means body snatchers. Ghoul. I’ve been called a lot of things, mister, but I ain’t never been called… Fidlam Bens. Right. Well, if I knew what in the hell that meant, I’d be inclined to take offense. Now, chiseler. If you’d said ‘chiseler,’ now there’s a word I understand. You know? Now, is that what you’re calling us? Right. But I asked if you was calling us chiselers. Well, then we got business. Anything to say now, huh?”

“Oh, none taken, sir. I grew up here. All I ever knew of Ireland was in the talk of the others at the orphan asylum. I’ve been told Kerry, but I lost proof of it in my language at the asylum. Everywhere you went, people talked about the draft. Now, you could buy your way out for 300 dollars, but who had 300 dollars? For us, it might as well have been three millions. The recruiters? They was too scared of the gangs to come after us. Besides, we never dreamt the war would ever touch New York.”

“You! Don’t you run into me. I said, don’t run into me! It seems so. Grace and favor of the Lord. Thank you. Oh, that dirty mab! For every lay, we had a different name. An ‘angler’ put a hook on the end of a stick to drop behind store windows and doors. An ‘autumn diver’ picked your pocket in church. A ‘badger gets a fellow into bed with a girl, and then robs his pockets while they’re on the go. Jenny was a ‘bludget,’ a girl pickpocket, and a ‘turtledove.’ A turtledove goes uptown dressed like a housemaid, picks out a fine house and goes right through the back door. Robs you blind. It takes a lot of sand to be a turtledove.”

“I’ll have my medal back. Oh, Jesus! Don’t do that again. Listen! I said, don’t do that– all right. Go on then. Go on then. Now, give me back my medal. Make it quick! Suppose I help myself to everything? Huh? May I walk with you a little then? What do yo suppose a fellow could earn up here in a day? Maybe we could pal in together. Alone? Well, what do you quarter to the Butcher? Nothing? Well, I don’t blame you. Some days, of course, the uptown gangs come down to us. The Schemerhorns was one of the oldest families in New York. They didn’t run the city, but they was listened to carefully by them that did.”

“I never did like crushers. Hey! Pig, huh? There you go. I knew that, Bill.”

Jenny Everdeane, Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax , Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions, Cameron Diaz

Jenny Everdeane

Best Performance by an Actress in a Supporting Role in any Motion Picture

1 nomination: 2003

“Oh. Uh! Look where you’re going, Johnny. You look stunned and poorly, sir. Quite a pair of conservationists, aren’t you? Well, gentlemen, I leave you in the grace and favor of the Lord.”

“Good morning, sir. Fair enough. Aah! Well, sorry. Everything in place? Well, then I leave you in the… …grace and favor of the Lord. That’s right. Oh, no. I’m sorry. Thank you kindly, sir. Well, sir, that depends on what you say. Only New York? This is my stop. That, sir, would be too bold.”

“Go back to the Points and leave me to my business or I will open your throat, so help me God. I would. I don’t know which one’s yours. Suppose you do. Oh, I think you’re a bit, uh, rough for this sort of game. Besides, I work alone. Me? Nothing. The Butcher and me have a special arrangement. I don’t want to see you again.”

Priest Vallon, Gangs of New York, Max, Miramax , Initial Entertainment Group, Alberto Grimaldi Productions, Liam Neeson

Priest Vallon

“So, son. Never. The blood stays on the blade. One day, you’ll understand. St. Michael, the archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protector against the snares and the wickedness of the devil. Now, son, who’s that? Who is it? And what did he do? Good boy. Well, well, Monk. Are you with us or not? I’ll give you ten per notch. You have my word. Per new notch.”

“Now, now, Bill, you swore this was a battle between warriors not a bunch of Miss Nancy’s. So warriors is what I brought. By the ancient laws of combat, I accept the challenge of the so-called Natives. You plague our people at every turn. But from this day out, you shall plague us no more. For let it be known that the hand that tries to strike us from this land shall be swiftly cut down. Prepare to receive the true Lord! Where are you? Where are you? Oh, my son. Don’t never look away. Finish it.”

The Dead Rabbits

“May God put the steel of the Holy Spirit in your spine and the love of the Blessed Virgin in your heart. Hey, boyo! What’s the battle? Which are you? The O’Conell Guard. The Plug Uglies. The Shirt Tails. The Chichesters. The Forty Thieves. What will we do with the boy? Okay, boy, say goodbye to your father. Hey, take it easy! Hey! Hey! Get him! Get him! Don’t let him get away. Hurry, come in here! He’s doing downstairs. Come here, boy. You’re going to Hellgate, son. There he is. Get him.”

“Who are you? Hey! No! I said, who are you? What are you doing here? See what’s in his pockets, Jimmy. Don’t want a fight? Don’t worry, son, ain’t gonna be much a fight. Don’t kill me. Where’d you get that? Why not? Look how good you done. You’re the priest’s son, aren’t you? You don’t remember me, do you? I’s the one tried to help you. I’s the one tried to help you when the Natives took you. Yeah. I thought you was killed. This long? So, what are you doing back here? Bowery Boys.”

“The Five Points, Paradise Square. The streets here are always lively an evening. We got the Daybreak Boys and the Swamp Angels. They work the river, looting ships. The Frog Hollow Shanghai sailors down around the Bloody Angle. The Shirt Tails was rough for a while, but they’ve become a bunch of jack-rollin’ dandies, lolling around Murderers’ Alley, looking like Chinamen. Hell-Cat Maggie, she tried to open her own grog shop, but she drunk up all her own liquor and got throwed on the street. Beautiful. Now she’s on the lay for anything. There’s the Plug Uglies. They’re from somewhere deep in the old country. Got their own language. No one understands what they’re saying. They love to fight the cops. And the Night Walkers of Ragpicker’s Row. Uh, they work on their backs and kill with their hands. They’re so scurvy, only the Plug Uglies’ll talk to them. But who knows what they’re saying? The Slaughter Housers and the Broadway Twisters. They’re a fine bunch of bingo boys. And the Little Forty Thieves. I used to run with them for a while till they got took over by Bendrick the Cockroach and his red-eyed buggers. Bendrick carries a germ. If you try to leave the gang, they say he hacks up blood on you. The True Blue Americans call themselves a gang, but all they really do is stand around corners damning England. You don’t say that name. That name died with your– they been outlawed. Aye, that they do. It’s quite the affair. The Butcher himself’s got to invite you, or you don’t go. Jenny, the finest bludget in all the Points. Well, I let her take it. I let her take things all the time. Yeah.”

“Quick, before there’s nothing left. Let’s go. I thought you said you was hungry. Help! Help! Help!”

“His name’s Amsterdam. Ain’t so bad. You. You got anything, you give it up or you get out. Is that it? Right. Here’s the rake. Everything comes here. We fence it. Johnny takes our tribute to the Natives, and we chop up the winnings, each to his equal portion amongst the gang. Does that meet with your approval, Hellgate? I’ll slit your fucking throat! Hey, come on! Hey! All right there, Happy Jack, leave us with something to quarter to Bill the Butcher, eh? Would you?”

“I’m here to pay tribute to Bill. No, thanks. I’ll give it to him myself. From me and me lads, sir. Oh, he’s not from here, sir. No one can look you in the eye, Bill. Not when you’re playing cards. Consider it done, sir. The Daybreak Boys catch us on this river, they’ll slit our throats. Ow! The Daybreak Boys have already been here, and there’s nothing left. Let’s go back, eh? Jesus, that’ll bring the harbor cops for sure. Fuck off. Come on, let’s go. Shove off. No, wait for Amsterdam. Where’s Amsterdam? What in the hell for? I’m telling you, that’s all they give us.”

Walter McGinn

“For the last time, Vallon, I’m with you if the money is right. Ten? Ten per notch? Then I’m your man. Not before I get what’s owed. My sympathies.”

“Do you think my watch would be safe up on that lamppost, Bill? Someday. This a new lad? I just want to see your face, son. No harm intended.”

William Tweed

“Welcome to America, son. Your long, arduous journey is over. Vote Tammany! America for Americans. Mr. Cutting, gentlemen, thank you for coming. It’s an honor. Sir, please. Excuse me. I think you’re frightening them. You may or may not know, Bill, that every day I go down to the waterfront with hot soup for the Irish as they come ashore. It’s part of building a political base. Indeed I have. Throwing torrents of pavers and withering abuse on every single person who steps off those boats.”

“I understand, but we’re talking about different things. I’m talking about civic duty, responsibilities we owe to the people. Schools and hospitals, sewers and utilities, street construction, repairs and sweeping, business licenses, saloon licenses. Streetcars, ferries, rubbish disposal. There’s a power of money to be made in this city, Bill. With your help, the people must be made to understand that all these things are best kept within what I like to call the Tammany family which is why I’m talking about an alliance between our two great organizations. That too. Muscle to match our spirit. The police? Oh, no. Jesus, no! The appearance of the law must be upheld. Especially while it’s being broken.”

“Hurry up, men, before the Black Joke get there! Okay, boys, get the hose out! It’s the Black Joke! Go get them, boys! Whoo! In your next time of trouble, ma’am, call on Tammany first. May I point out this area is the province of my own Americus Fire Brigade, and that you lot belong only in the Bowery? Am I? Okay, boys, to work. Boys, forget that one. Next building over. Mustn’t let it spread. Take what you want from that one.”

“You’ll each bill the city 5,000 dollars a month for supplies and services of which you’ll receive 10 percent.”

Jack Mulraney

“You boys will settle with me before settling with each other. I come for my due and proper. Ah. Well, this ain’t a bad haul. You know, when folks start in to saying to where the country is going to hell, I always tell them, ‘you just look at all the hard work our fine young lads is doing down in the Five Points.’ Oh, yeah. Now this is just the thing for Mrs. Mulraney. Not my favorite tune. Thank you, boys. You keep out of trouble now.”

“Pennies in their pockets and hope in their eyes they peer to the west searching the horizon for a glimpse of land and salvation. Ah. A glimpse of America. Commissioner Brunt said you wished to view the Points in all its splendor and squalor. ‘Spare nothing concerning the conditions,’ said he. Quite so, madam. Witness. Shall we continue on? Safe as a bank, Mr. Greeley, since all know it’s mine. Ugh, dead as Good Friday, miss. Boys. Fact-find. Reform-studying. May I present–? Mrs. Schemerhorn, indeed. And their daughter. This gentleman, of course, of the Tribune. Mr. Cutting is, uh– one of Five Points’ local… …leaders. Oh, I’ll see to their safety. Thank you, Bill. There we are. Good day, lads. Criminal’s braggadocio, you see. Indeed, sir. You’re well-known in these parts.”

Five Points

“In this place, you have grown from a boy into a man. Put to death the earthly things in you: immorality, impurity, passion, vengeance. The Lord has forgiven you. You also must forgive. You go forth to a country torn apart by civil strife. Lend your hand to the work that yet remains that this war may end and the plague of slavery that brought this conflagration down upon us vanish forever from the earth.”

“Down with Lincoln! Lincoln will make all white men slaves. New York should secede from the Union! They trying to say we’re no different than *******? Praise the Union. The Union forever! Go back to Africa *******! Go back to Africa! Leave him alone. We’re free. We’re free! The first draft in Union history. No ***-******* here! None! New-York Tribune! Buy a Tribune here! Join the Army, lads. Three square meals a day and good pay in your pocket. Go back to Ireland, you dumb micks! You remember that, you bog Irish gyps! Get back on the boat, paddy! Go back to your own country!”

“So? Here in this vile place. Look upon the face of this poor child. She lives in squalor in this godforsaken den of vice and misery behind me. Where am I going to go? Move! The reverend wants you out of here. You can’t do this! A glorious resurrection will spring from the filthy depths to which these miserable creatures have fallen. In God, they will find their true home.”

“The lime-juicers are nothing but a bunch of rapacious grab-ups… if you believe one word that the British way, you’re a fool.”

“The Black Joke are on their way, Tweed, and they’ll beat the shite out of you. Go give those Bowery Boys hell! Go back to the Bowery, you bums! Stop them. For God’s sake, they’re taking everything! But it’s not too late. You can still save my house. Whoo! May I point out that this building is burning to ashes? May I point out that you’re outmanned, outmaneuvered, and, in a moment, outfought? Clear the way for Bill the Butcher. What are you doing? There’s nothing wrong with this one. This is my house. You two, out of the way!”

“♪ As I walked down to Chatham Street ♪ A fair maid I did meet ♪ She asked me to see her home ♪♪ She lived in Bleecker Street ♪ To me a-weigh, you Santee My dear Annie ♪ Oh, you New York girls Can’t you dance the polka? ♪ To me a-weigh, you Santee My dear Annie ♪ Oh, you New York girls Can’t you dance the polka? ♪♪ When we got To Bleecker Street ♪ We stopped at 44 ♪ Her mother and her sister Dared to meet us at the door ♪♪ To me a-weigh, you Santee My dear Annie… ♪”

“Hey, Maggie. Right ear or left ear? Ah, give us a drink, you eejit. Help yourself. Final bets! To health. Place your bets. Betting closes in two minutes. Place your bets. Gentlemen, the match is due to commence. The count to beat is 25 rodents in three minutes. Towser against the vermin. Are the enumerators satisfied? Fifty! Yes! Let them go!”

“Where you going, boy? Are you now? Give it to me. I’ll give it to him. Aw. What do you want to keep, the money or your teeth, boyo? I am betting large, Bill. So many mothers have not even the solace of knowing where their sons have fallen. I lost my own eldest at Antietam. His mother and I were unable to recover his remains. The war can’t last forever. Wait. Is this fresh? A low thing, to do that to a body. Low. A body’s supposed to stay beneath the earth, wearing a wooden coat until the Resurrection. Maybe they’re just a couple of Fidlam Bens. Fidlam Bens. A Fidlam Bens is a fellow who steals anything, dead or alive, because he’s too low to work up a decent lay for himself. Count that careful, Bill. Just count that careful. I can think of a number things to call you, boyo. Supposing I am? That we do. A fight! There’s a fight! Two bucks on McGloin. Five bits on the kid. I got two on Amsterdam. Come on, McGloin, he’s just a kid. Four bits to back Amsterdam. Watch his left, McGloin. Watch his left. That’s enough, kid. You got him. Come on, you won. McGloin. He’s a kid too, McGloin. You’re getting too old for it, McGloin. You’d better leave that head alone, Bill. You could find a tastier head than that, Bill. I ain’t got the stomach for no Irish stew.”

“Yeah, Bill. That’s right. Enlist. Join up. Serve your country. Come on in, out of the draft, boys. Volunteer and get your 50-dollar bonus. We need 30,000 volunteers, and we’re prepared to pay 677 dollars per volunteer. Please read this. Thank you. Thanks. Would you like to take one of these, please, to fill out? Three square meals a day. Three square meals a day. Young man, enlist and serve your country. Three square meals a day, gentlemen. If you’re interested, I suggest you read this and consider joining. Ah. Allow me, hah. Oh, it’s my pleasure. I hope you won’t think me rude if I speak. I wouldn’t want to appear forward. Would you call me reckless if I said you were the prettiest girl in New York? Ah, may I walk with you a little then? Good morning.”

“Seeing all this poverty must be most unsettling Miss Schermerhorn. Yeah, nothing except our safety, constable. I’m sure we can be in no danger while we’re in the constables company, my dear. What, you dare to leave it there? Is that man drunk? Jack. How do you do, Mr. Cutting? A pleasure to meet you, sir. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cutting. He knows who I am. I must say that I find that strangely flattering.”

“♪ You spend At the old fellows’ club ♪♪ At the office or store He was kept he’ll pretend ♪♪ And so he was too Drinking rum with a friend ♪♪ Is a kind, loving husband ♪ And a good-tempered wife ♪. God bless you, Mr. Cutting.”

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