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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31718-8.txt b/31718-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f452bc3 --- /dev/null +++ b/31718-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10388 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rosie World, by Parker Fillmore + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Rosie World + +Author: Parker Fillmore + +Illustrator: Maginel Wright Enright + +Release Date: March 21, 2010 [EBook #31718] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROSIE WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to +fight, it scares me so!" [Page 12.]] + + + + +THE ROSIE WORLD + + BY + PARKER FILLMORE + + Author of "The Hickory Limb," "The Young Idea" + + + With Illustrations by + MAGINEL WRIGHT ENRIGHT + + NEW YORK + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + 1914 + + + + + Copyright, 1914. + BY + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + + _Published September, 1914_ + + Parts of _The Rosie World_ have appeared serially in _Everybody's + Magazine_ under the titles: "The Chin-Chopper," "A Little Savings + Account," copyright, 1912, by The Ridgway Company; "A Little Mother + Hen," "The Loan of a Gentleman Friend," "Crazy with the Heat," + copyright, 1913, by The Ridgway Company; "The Stenog," "The Watch-Dog," + "The Rosie Morrow," copyright, 1914, by The Ridgway Company; and in + _Smith's Magazine_ under the title: "What Every Lady Wants," copyright, + 1913, by Street & Smith. + + + + + To + Gilman Hall + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I THE CHIN-CHOPPER 1 + + II THE SCHNITZER 7 + + III THE PAPER-GIRL 18 + + IV A LITTLE SAVINGS ACCOUNT 25 + + V GEORGE RILEY ON MUCKERS 40 + + VI JACKIE 47 + + VII HOW TO KEEP A DUCK OUT OF WATER 59 + + VIII A LITTLE MOTHER HEN 67 + + IX JANET'S AUNT KITTY 78 + + X ROSIE RECEIVES AN INVITATION 87 + + XI THE TRACTION BOYS' PICNIC 93 + + XII THE LOAN OF A GENTLEMAN FRIEND 99 + + XIII JANET EXPLAINS 107 + + XIV ON SCARS AND BRUISES 113 + + XV THE BRUTE AT BAY 123 + + XVI WHAT EVERY LADY WANTS 130 + + XVII ROSIE PROMISES TO BE GOOD 143 + + XVIII ON THE CULTURE OF BABIES 147 + + XIX CRAZY WITH THE HEAT 157 + + XX A FEVERED WORLD 165 + + XXI THE STORM 168 + + XXII A CHANCE FOR GERALDINE 171 + + XXIII HOME AGAIN 175 + + XXIV GEORGE TURNS 182 + + XXV DANNY AGIN ON LOVE 194 + + XXVI ELLEN 204 + + XXVII ROSIE URGES COMMON SENSE 213 + + XXVIII JANET USES STRONG LANGUAGE 224 + + XXIX THE CASE OF DAVE MCFADDEN 234 + + XXX JANET TO HER OWN FATHER 242 + + XXXI DANNY'S SUGGESTION 254 + + XXXII THE SUBSTITUTE LADY 264 + + XXXIII ELLEN'S CAREER 273 + + XXXIV THE KIND-HEARTED GENTLEMAN 285 + + XXXV ELLEN MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT 292 + + XXXVI THE HAPPY LOVER 298 + + XXXVII THE SISTERS 304 + + XXXVIII ELLEN HAS HER FLING 308 + + XXXIX THE WATCH-DOG 317 + + XL MR. HARRY LONG EXPLAINS 322 + + XLI THE GREATEST TEACHER IN THE WORLD 335 + + XLII THE ROSIE MORROW 349 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + "I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to fight, + it scares me so!" _Frontispiece_ + + PAGE + + "Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie" 48 + + Rosie gently lifted off his nightshirt and held the candle + close 60 + + "Because you kiss Janet McFadden, you needn't think + you can kiss any girl" 106 + + Rosie stared at him out of eyes that were very sad and + very serious 148 + + She read it again by the light of the candle 290 + + To be the confidant of Mrs. O'Brien in this particular + disappointment was embarrassing, to say the least 298 + + They all looked at Rosie, who sat, oblivious of them, + staring off into nothing 332 + + + + +THE ROSIE WORLD + +CHAPTER I + +THE CHIN-CHOPPER + + +Mrs. O'Brien raised helpless distracted hands. "Off wid yez to school!" +she shouted. "All of yez! Make room for George!" What Mrs. O'Brien +really called her boarder is best represented by spelling his name +Jarge. + +"Maybe I didn't have a dandy fight on my last trip down," George +announced as he took off his coat and began washing his hands at the +sink. + +The young O'Briens clustered about him eagerly. + +"Did you lick him, Jarge?" Terry asked. + +"Tell us about it!" Rosie begged. + +"Will yez be off to school!" Mrs. O'Brien again shouted. + +No one heeded her in the least. George by this time was seated at the +table and Rosie was hanging over his shoulder. Terence and small Jack +stood facing him at the other side of the table and Miss Ellen O'Brien, +with the baby in her arms, lingered near the door. + +"Your cabbage'll be stone cold," Mrs. O'Brien scolded, "and they'll all +be late for school if they don't be off wid 'em!" + +"Was he drunk, Jarge?" Rosie asked. + +"No, but he'd been taking too much." George spoke through a mouthful of +corned beef and cabbage. + +"Aw, go on," Terry pleaded, "tell us all about it." + +"They ain't much to tell," George declared, with a complacency that +belied his words. "He was nuthin' but a big stiff about nine feet high +and built double across the shoulders." George sighed and cocked his eye +as though bored at the necessity of recounting his adventure. Then, just +to humour them, as it were, he continued: "I see trouble as soon as he +got on. They was plenty of empty seats on one side, but the first thing +I knew he was hanging on a strap on the crowded side insultin' a poor +little lady. He wasn't sayin' nuthin' but he was just hangin' over her +face, lookin' at her and grinnin' until she was ready to cry out for +shame." + +"The brute!" snapped Mrs. O'Brien as she slopped down a big cup of +coffee. + +"Did you throw him off?" Terence asked. + +George took an exasperating time to swallow, then complained: "You +mustn't hurry me so. 'Tain't healthy to hurry when you eat." + +Ellen O'Brien tossed her head disdainfully. "If that's all you've got to +say, Mr. Riley, I guess I'll be going." + +Rosie turned on her big sister scornfully. "Aw, why don't you call him +Jarge? Ain't he been boarding with us a whole week now?" To show the +degree of intimacy she herself felt, Rosie slipped an arm about George's +neck. + +Ellen sniffed audibly. + +George had not been looking at the elder Miss O'Brien but, from the +haste with which now he finished his story, it was evident that he +wished her to hear it. + +"When I see he was looking for trouble, I went right up to him and says: +'If you can't sit down and act ladylike, just get off this car.' And +then he looks down at me and grins like a jackass and says: 'Who do you +think you are?' 'Who do I think I am?' I says; 'I'm the conductor of +this car and my number's eight-twenty and, if I get any more jawin' from +you, I'll throw you off.' He'd make two of me in size but I could see +from the look of him he was nuthin' to be afraid of. So, when he grins +down at the little lady again and then drops his strap to turn clean +around to me and poke out his jaw, I up and gives him a good +chin-chopper." + +George stopped as if this were the end and his auditors grumbled in +balked expectancy: + +"Aw, go on, Jarge, tell us what you did." + +"Well, if that's the end of your story, Mr. Riley, I'm going." + +"The brute, insultin' a lady!" + +It was Rosie who demanded in desperation: "But, Jarge, what is a +chin-chopper?" + +"Chin-chopper? Why, don't you know what a chin-chopper is?" George +paused in his eating to explain. "A chin-chopper is when a big stiff +pokes out his jaw at you and then, before he knows what you're doing, +you up and push him one under the chin with the inside of your hand. It +tips him over just like a ninepin." + +"Oh, Jarge, do you mean you knocked him down on the floor of the car?" +By this time Rosie was skipping and hopping in excitement. + +"Sure that's what I mean." + +"And then, Jarge, when you had him down, what did you do?" + +"What did I do? Why, then I danced on him, of course." + +George jumped up from his chair and, indicating a prostrate form on the +kitchen floor, proceeded to execute a series of wild jig steps over +limbs and chest. + +Rosie clapped her hands. "Good, good, good, Jarge! And then what did you +do?" + +"What did I do? Why, then I snatches off the stiff's hat and throws it +out the window. As luck went, it landed in a fine big mud-puddle. Then I +pulls the bell and says to him, 'Now, you big bully, if you've had +enough, get off this car and go home and tell your wife she wants you.'" + +"And, Jarge, did he get off?" + +"Did he? I wonder! He couldn't get off quick enough!" + +George glanced timidly toward Ellen in hopes, apparently, that his +prowess would meet the same favour from her as from the others. + +Ellen caught his look and instantly tightened her lips in disgust. "I +think it's perfectly disgraceful to get in fights!" + +Under the scorn of her words George withered into silence. Terence +rallied instantly to his defence. He turned on his older sister angrily. +"Aw, go dry up, you old school-teacher!" + +"I'm not an old school-teacher!" Ellen cried. "And you just stop calling +me names! Ma, Terence is calling me an old school-teacher and you don't +say a thing!" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her son reprovingly. "Why, Terry lad, I'm +surprised at you callin' your poor sister Ellen a thing like that! You +know as well as I that she's not an old school-teacher." + +"Well, anyway," Terence growled, "she talks like one." + +Rosie's wild spirits, meantime, had vanished. She sighed heavily. "Say, +Jarge, wisht I was a boy." + +George looked at her kindly. "What makes you say that, Rosie?" + +"Oh, nuthin'. Only I know some stiffs I'd like to try a chin-chopper +on." + +George eyed her a little uneasily. "Aw, now, Rosie, you oughtn't to +talk that way. You're a girl and 'tain't ladylike for girls to fight." + +"I know, Jarge. That's why I say I wisht I was a boy." + +George grew thoughtful. "Of course, though, Rosie, I wouldn't have +blamed the little lady in the car if she had poked her hatpin into that +fellow. It's all right for a lady to do anything in self-defence." + +In Rosie's face a sudden interest gathered. "Ain't it unladylike, Jarge, +if it's in self-defence?" + +George answered emphatically: "Of course not--not if it's in +self-defence." + +He would have said more but Terence interrupted: "What's the matter, +Rosie? Any one been teasing you?" + +Rosie answered quickly, almost too quickly: "Oh, no, no! I was just +a-talkin' to Jarge----" + +"Well, just stop yir talkin' and be off wid yez to school! Do ye hear me +now, all o' yez!" Mrs. O'Brien opened the kitchen door and, raising her +apron aloft, drove them out with a "Shoo!" as though they were so many +chickens. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE SCHNITZER + + +"Tell me now, Rosie, are you having any trouble with your papers?" +Terence asked this as he and Rosie and little Jack started off for +school. + +Terence had a regular newspaper business which kept him busy every day +from the close of school until dark. His route had grown so large that +recently he had been forced to engage the services of one or two +subordinates. Rosie had begged to be given a job as paper-carrier, to +deliver the papers in their own immediate neighbourhood, and Terence was +at last allowing her a week's trial. If she could be a newsgirl without +attracting undue attention, he would be as willing to pay her twenty +cents a week as to pay any ordinary small boy a quarter. + +Twenty cents seemed a princely wage to one handicapped by the limitation +of sex, and Rosie was determined to make good. So, when Terence inquired +whether she were having any trouble, she declared at once: + +"No, Terry, honest I'm not. Every one's just as nice and kind to me as +they can be. Those two nice Miss Grey ladies always give me a cookie, +and nice old Danny Agin nearly always has an apple for me." + +"Well," said Terence, severely--besides being Rosie's brother, fourteen +years old and nearly two years her senior, he was her employer and so +simply had to be severe--"Well, just see that you don't eat too many +apples!" + +Terence and Jack turned into the boys' school-yard and Rosie pursued her +way down to the girls' gate. Just before she reached it, a boy, biggish +and overgrown, with a large flat face and loosely hung joints, ran up +behind her and shouted: + +"Oh, look at the paper-girl, paper-girl, paper-girl! Rosie O'Brien, +O'Brien, O'Brien!" + +He seemed to think there was something funny in the name O'Brien, and +his own name, mind you, was Schnitzer! + +Rosie marched on with unhearing ears, unseeing eyes. Other people, +however, heard, for in a moment, one of the little girls clustered about +the school-yard gate rushed over to her, jerking her head about like an +indignant little hen. + +"Don't you care what that old Schnitzer says, Rosie! Just treat him like +he's beneath your contemp'!" + +Whereupon she herself turned upon the Schnitzer and, with most withering +sarcasm, called out: "Dutch!" + +Rosie's friend's name was McFadden, Janet McFadden. + +"Why don't you just tell Terry on him?" Janet said, when they were safe +within the crowded school-yard and able to discuss at length the +cowardice of the attack. "It wouldn't take Terry two minutes to punch +his face into pie-crust!" + +"I know, Janet, but don't you see if I was to tell Terry, then he'd +think I was getting bothered on my paper route and take it away from me. +He's not quite sure, anyhow, whether girls ought to carry papers." + +Janet clucked her tongue in sympathy and understanding. "Does that +Schnitzer bother you every afternoon, Rosie?" + +"Yes, and he's getting worse. Yesterday he tried to grab my papers and +he tore one of them. I'm just scared to death when I get near his house, +honest, I am." + +Janet clenched her hands and drew a long shivering breath. "Do you know, +Rosie, boys like him--they just make me so mad that I almost--I almost +_bust_!" + +Black care sat behind Rosie O'Brien's desk that afternoon. It was her +fifth day as paper-carrier and, but for Otto Schnitzer, she knew that +she would be able to complete satisfactorily her week of probation. Was +he to cause her failure? Her heart was heavy with fear but, after +school, when she met Terry, she smiled as she took her papers and +marched off with so brave a show of confidence that Terry, she felt +sure, suspected nothing. + +As usual, she had no trouble whatever on the first part of her route. At +sight of her papers a few people smiled but they all greeted her +pleasantly enough, so that was all right. One boy called out, "How's +business, old gal?" but his tone was so jolly that Rosie was able to +sing back, "Fine and dandy, old hoss!" So that was all right, too. + +The Schnitzer place was toward the end of her route, a few doors before +she reached Danny Agin's cottage. As she passed it, no Otto was in +sight, and she wondered if for once she was to be allowed to go her way +unmolested. A sudden yell from the Schnitzers' garden disclosed Otto's +whereabouts and also his disappointment not to be on the sidewalk to +meet her. He came pounding out in all haste but she was able to make +Danny Agin's gate in safety. + +Rosie always delivered Danny's paper in the kitchen. + +"Come in!" said Danny's voice in answer to her knock. + +Rosie opened the door and Danny received her with a friendly, "Ah now, +and is it yourself, Rosie? I've been waiting for you this half-hour." + +He was a little apple-cheeked old man who wheezed with asthma and was +half-crippled with rheumatism. "Mary!" he called to some one in another +room. "It's Rosie O'Brien. Have you something for Rosie?" + +A voice, as serious in tone as Danny's was gay, came back in answer: +"Tell Rosie to look on the second shelf of the panthry." + +Rosie went to the pantry--it was a little game they had been playing +every afternoon--and on the second shelf found a shiny red apple. + +"Thanks, Danny. I do love apples." + +Danny shook his head lugubriously. "I'm afeared there won't be many +more, Rosie. We're gettin' to the bottom of the barrel and summer's +comin'. But can't you sit down for a minute and talk to a body?" + +Rosie sat down. As she had only two more papers to deliver, she had +plenty of time. But she had nothing to say. + +Danny, watching her, drew a long face. "What's the matter, Rosie dear? +Somebody dead?" + +Rosie shook her head and sighed. "That old Otto Schnitzer's waiting for +me outside." + +Danny exploded angrily. "The Schnitzer, indeed! I'd like to give that +lad a crack wid me stick!" + +"Danny," Rosie said solemnly, "do you know what I'd do if I was a boy?" + +"What?" + +"I'd try a chin-chopper on Otto Schnitzer. That'd fix him!" + +"It would that!" said Danny, heartily. He paused and meditated. "But +what's a chin-chopper, darlint?" + +Rosie explained. "And Jarge says," she concluded, "they tumble right +over like ninepins." + +"Who's Jarge?" + +"Jarge Riley, our boarder. He's little but he's a dandy scrapper. Terry +says so, too." + +Danny wagged his head. "Jarge is right. I've turned the same thrick +meself in me younger days, many's the time." + +"It would just serve that Otto Schnitzer right, don't you think so, +Danny?" + +"I do!" Danny declared. He looked at Rosie with a sudden light in his +little blue eyes. "Say, Rosie, why don't you try it on him? He's nuthin' +but a bag o' wind anyhow. One good blow and he'll bust." + +Rosie cried out in protest: "But, Danny, he's so big and I'm so scared! +I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to fight, it scares me +so!" + +"Whisht, darlint!" Danny raised a quieting hand. "Mind now what I'm +sayin': Almost everybody's got to fight sometime. I don't mean to pick a +fight but to fight in plain self-protiction. Now it's me own opinion +that young hound of a lad'll never let up on ye, Rosie, till ye larn him +a good lesson. I could give him a crack wid me stick if ever he'd come +nigh enough, but he'd be at you just the same the next time I wasn't +around. Now, Rosie, if you ask me, I'd advise you to farce yirself to +give that young bully a good chin-chopper once and for all. And, what's +more, I'll take me oath ye'll never be feared of him again.... Come +here and I'll show you how to go at him. Palm up now with yir fingers +bent making a little cup of the inside of your hand. Do ye see? Now the +thrick is here: Run at him hard and catch his chin in the little cup. +One good blow and you'll push him over. Oh, you can't miss it, Rosie." + +Rosie's breath was coming fast and her hand was cold and shaky. "But I +don't want to do it, Danny, honest I don't! I can't tell you how scared +I am!" + +Danny wagged his head. "Of course you don't want to do it, Rosie. +Because why? Because ye're a little lady. But I know one thing: ye'll +make yirself do it! And them that makes theirselves do it, not because +they want to do it but because it's the right thing to do, I tell ye, +Rosie, them's the best fighters! Come, come, I'll crawl out to the gate +wid ye and hold yir apple for you while ye do the business." + +Fixing his bright little eyes upon her, Danny waited until Rosie had, +perforce, to consent. Then, with her help, he stood up and slowly +hobbled to the door. + +"We won't mintion the matther to the ould woman," he whispered with a +wink. "She mightn't understand." + +Rosie almost hoped that old Mary would catch them and haul Danny back, +but she could not, of course, give the alarm. + +As she had expected, the Schnitzer was there waiting for her. At sight +of Danny he moved off a little. + +"Now then, Rosie dear," Danny whispered, after Rosie had propped him +securely against the gate-post; "at him and may luck be wid ye! It's +high time that young cock crowed his last!" + +As Danny spoke, the Schnitzer's taunting cry rang out: "Look at the +paper-girl, paper-girl, paper-girl!" + +Rosie started up the street and the Schnitzer cavorted and pranced some +little distance in the front of her, making playful pounces at her +papers, threatening to clutch her hair, her arms, her dress. Then, +suddenly, he stood still, stretching himself across the middle of the +walk to bar her passage. + +Rosie's heart pounded so hard she could scarcely breathe. She wanted to +dodge to the side and run, she wanted to turn back, she wanted to do +anything rather than go straight on. But she felt Danny's presence +behind her, she heard the click-clack he was making with his stick to +encourage her, and she pushed herself forward. + +Then her mood changed. What had she ever done to this great lout of a +boy that he should be annoying her thus? He was not only terrorizing her +daily with no provocation whatever but, in addition, he was doing his +best to beat her out of her job. Yes, if she lost this well-paying job +tomorrow, it would be his fault, for he was the one thing on the route +that caused her trouble.... Oh, for the fist of a Jarge to give him the +chin-chopper he deserved! + +She was close on to him now, looking him full in the eye. "Otto +Schnitzer, you let me go by!" The words came so naturally that she was +not conscious of speaking. "I guess I got as much right to this sidewalk +as you have!" + +"You have, have you? Well, who do you think you are, anyway?" The +Schnitzer pushed out his jaw at her and grinned mockingly. + +_Who do you think you are?_ Where had Rosie heard those insulting words +before? Ah, she remembered and, as she remembered, all fear seemed +instantly to leave her heart and she cried out in ringing tones: + +"Who do I think I am? I'm the conductor of this car and if you----" + +Rosie made for the Schnitzer and, with all her strength, sent the cup of +her hand straight at his chin. You have seen a ninepin wobble +uncertainly for a moment, then go down. The comparison is inevitable. A +yell of rage and fright from the sidewalk at her feet brought Rosie to +her senses. Glory be, she had chin-choppered him good and proper! + +But what to do next? What next? In her mind's eye Rosie saw the interior +of a street-car with George Riley dancing a jig on the prostrate form of +a giant. Thereupon Danny Agin and Mary, his wife, who by this time had +joined him, and the woman next door, with a baby in her arms, saw Rosie +O'Brien perform a similar jig over the squirming members of the +Schnitzer. + +That trampled creature was sending forth a terrific bellow of, "Murder! +Murder! Mommer! Help! I'm gettin' killed!" + +"And just good for him, too!" the woman with the baby shouted over to +Mary and Danny. "I've been watching the way he's been teasing the life +out of that little girl!" + +"Good wur-r-rk, Rosie, good wur-r-rk!" old Danny kept wheezing as he +pounded his stick in enthusiastic applause. + +As the jig ended, Rosie stooped and snatched off the Schnitzer's cap. +For a moment she hesitated, for there was no mud-puddle on the street +into which to throw it. Then she noticed a tree. Good! That would give +him some trouble. She twisted the cap in her hand and tossed it up into +a high branch where it lodged securely. + +Then she leaned over the Schnitzer for the last time. He was moaning and +groaning and whimpering with no least little spark of fight left in him. +And was this the thing she used to be afraid of? Danny was right: never +again would she fear him. She gazed at him long and scornfully. Then she +gave him one last stir with her foot and brought the episode to a close. + +"Now then, you big bully, if you've had enough, get off this car--I +mean, _sidewalk_, and go home and tell your--your _mother_, I mean, that +she wants you!" + +And, as Rosie said that evening in relating the adventure to George +Riley: "And, oh, Jarge, you just ought ha' seen how that stiff got up +and went!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE PAPER-GIRL + + +On Saturday night as soon as supper was cleared away, Terence was +accustomed to make out his weekly accounts. He had a small account-book +with crisscross rulings and two fascinating little canvas money-bags, +one for coppers, the other for nickels and silver. After his book +accounts were finished, he would gravely open his money-bags and, with +banker-like precision, pile up together coins of the same +denomination--pennies by themselves, nickels by themselves, dimes, and +so on. + +Though oft repeated, it was an impressive performance and one that Rosie +and little Jack surveyed with untiring gravity and respect. With a frown +between his eyes and his lips working silently, Terence would estimate +the totals of the various piles, then the sum total. He would very +deliberately compare this with the amount his book showed and then--it +always happened just this way--with a sigh of relief, he would murmur to +himself: "All right this time!" + +On this particular night, instead of sweeping the money piles back into +their little bags at once, Terence paused and looked at Rosie with a +questioning: "Well?" + +"Well." Rosie used the same word with a different intonation. + +"I suppose I owe you twenty cents." + +"Yes, Terry, you do." + +"Are you having any trouble?" + +With a truthfulness that made her own heart glow with happiness, Rosie +was able to answer: "No, I'm not having a bit of trouble, honest I'm +not. You're going to let me have it now regular, aren't you?" + +Before Terence could answer, Ellen O'Brien, who was seated on the far +side of the table, presumably studying the pothooks of stenography, +called out suddenly: "Ma! Ma! Come here! Quick!" + +Mrs. O'Brien appeared at once. She was still nursing the baby to sleep, +but no matter. Whenever her oldest child called, Mrs. O'Brien came. + +"Say, Ma, I think it's disgraceful the way Terry's letting Rosie sell +papers. If I was you I just wouldn't allow it! It's awful for a girl to +sell papers!" + +Rosie's heart sank. Was this comfortable income of twenty cents a week +now, at the last moment, to be snatched from her? + +"Aw now, Mama," she began; "it's only right around here where every one +knows me, honest it is! This is the end of Terry's route and he gets +here so late that if I don't help him he'll lose his customers, won't +you, Terry?" + +Rosie appealed to Terence, but Terence was busy scowling at his older +sister. "Say, Ellen O'Brien, what do you think you are? You mind your +own business or I'll give that pompadour of yours a frizzle!" + +Ellen concentrated on her mother: "I don't care, Ma! You just mustn't +let her! How do you think I'd feel going into a swell office some day, +hunting a job, and have the man say, no, he didn't want any common +newsgirls around!" + +For a moment every one was silent, overcome by the splendour of that +imagined office. Then Terence broke into a jeer: + +"Aw, forget it! If Rosie was to make her living selling papers, who'd +know about it downtown? And if some one from downtown did see her, how +would they know she was your sister? Say, Sis, it's time for you to go +shine your nails!" + +"Now, Ma, just listen to that! I wish you'd make Terry stop always +making fun of me! Haven't I got to keep my hands nice if ever I'm going +to be a stenog?" + +Mrs. O'Brien tried hard to restore a general peace: "Terry lad, you +mustn't be talkin' that way to your sister. P'rhaps what Ellen says is +right. I dunno. We'll see what himself says when he comes in." + +The young O'Briens were used to having their mother refer to their +father as one to decide all sorts of vexed questions. When he was out of +the house he seemed the person to appeal to. When, however, Jamie +O'Brien was at home, no one ever heeded him in the least. He would come +in tired and silent from his run and, after sitting about in +shirtsleeves and socks long enough to smoke a pipe, would slip quietly +off to bed. So no one was deceived by Mrs. O'Brien's manoeuver of +begging them to await their father's judgment in the matter. Rosie and +Terence would have been willing to let it mark the close of the +discussion, but not Ellen. + +"I tell you, Ma," she insisted, "it's a perfect disgrace if you don't +stop it right now!" + +Terry regarded his sister grimly. "Listen here, Ellen O'Brien, I've got +something to say to you: Who's been paying your carfare and your lunch +money, too, ever since you been going to this fool business college?" + +Mrs. O'Brien feebly interposed: "Ah now, Terry lad, Ellen's just +borrowin' the money from you. She'll pay you back as soon as she gets a +job, won't you, Ellen dear?" + +Terence grunted impatiently. "Aw, don't go talkin' to me about +borrowin'! I guess I know what borrowin' means in this house! But I tell +you one thing, Ellen O'Brien: if you don't stop your jawin' about Rosie, +it'll be the last cent of carfare and lunch money you ever get out o' +me!" + +More than two-thirds of Terence's weekly earnings went into the family +coffers, so what he said carried weight. Ellen tossed her head but was +careful not to speak. + +Terence rumbled on disjointedly: "Business college! Business nuthin'! I +bet all you do down there is look at yourself in a glass and fix your +hair and shine your nails. Huh!" + +Ellen shrugged her handsome shoulders and, tilting a scornful nose, +returned to her pothooks. + +Rosie was jubilant. She was sure Terry had intended letting her keep on, +but Ellen's opposition had clinched the matter firmly. + +"So it's all settled," she told her friend, Janet McFadden, the next +day. "Just think of it, Janet--twenty cents a week!" + +Janet sighed. "My, Rosie! What are you going to do with it all?" + +Rosie hadn't quite decided. + +Janet was ready with a good suggestion. "Why don't you save it and buy +roller skates, Rosie? I don't mean old common sixty-cent ones, but a +fine expensive pair with good ball-bearings. Then you could skate on +Boulevard Place. Why, Rosie, is there anything in the world you'd rather +do than go up to Boulevard Place with a pair of fine skates? And listen +here, Rosie: if you lend them to me in the afternoon while you're on +your paper route, I'll take good care of them, honest I will." + +H'm, roller skates. The longer Rosie thought about the idea, the better +she liked it. She decided to talk it over with Danny Agin on Monday +afternoon when she left him his paper. + +Danny met her with a sly grin. "Have you been chin-chopperin' some more +of them, Rosie?" + +Rosie looked at her old friend reprovingly. "Aw now, Danny, why do you +always talk about that? I don't like to fight boys, you know I don't. It +was Otto Schnitzer's own fault. But, Danny, listen here: Bet you can't +guess what I'm saving for." + +Danny couldn't, so Rosie explained. Then she continued: + +"You see it's this way, Danny: those old cheap skates are no good +anyhow. They're always breaking. I'd give anything for a good pair and +so would Janet. We just love to skate on Boulevard Place--the cement's +so smooth and it's so shady and pretty. But do you know, Danny, last +summer when we used to go up there on one old broken skate they called +us 'muckers.' We're not muckers just because we're poor, are we, Danny?" + +Danny Agin snorted with indignation. "As long as ye mind yir manners, +ye're not to be called muckers! You don't fight 'em, Rosie, and call 'em +names, do you?" + +"No, Danny, I don't, honest I don't, but sometimes Janet does. She gets +awful mad if any one calls her 'Cross-back!' You see, Danny, they're all +Protestants and Jews on Boulevard Place." + +"From their manners, Rosie, I'd know that!" + +"But it seems to me, Danny, if we had a pair of ball-bearing skates we'd +be just as good as they are." + +"Betther!" said Danny. + +"So you think I'm right to save for skates, do you, Danny?" + +"Do I think so? I do. Why, Rosie dear, as soon as people find out that +ye're savin' in earnest, they'll be givin' ye many an odd penny here and +there. Let me see now.... Go to the panthry, Rosie, and on the third +shelf from the top ye'll see a cup turned upside down, and under the +cup--well, I dunno what's under the cup." + +Rosie went to the pantry and under the cup found two nice brown pennies. +"Thanks, Danny. But do you think Mis' Agin would want me to take them?" + +"Mary? Why, Mary'd be givin' ye a nickel--she's that proud of you for +chin-chopperin' the young Schnitzer. He stones her cat, but if he does +it again she'll be warnin' him that you'll take after him. Ha, ha, +that'll stop him if anything will!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A LITTLE SAVINGS ACCOUNT + + +What Danny said proved right. As soon as Rosie's immediate family and +friends heard of the project, they gave her every encouragement. Little +Jack lent her his last Christmas money-box--one of those tin banks whose +opening is supposed to be burglarproof against the seducing attractions +of all hatpins and buttonhooks except those employed by its rightful +owner--and Mrs. O'Brien suggested at once that the old wardrobe upstairs +would be the place of greatest safety for the bank. + +"You can get into it whenever you like, Rosie dear, for you know +yourself where the key's to be found." + +It might be argued that every one else in the family knew where the key +was to be found, for it was an open secret that its hiding-place was +under the foot of the washstand. Nevertheless, it was an accepted +tradition that anything in the wardrobe was under lock and key and +therefore safe. So, with unbounded confidence, Rosie slipped her first +week's wages into Jack's money-box and carefully locked the old +wardrobe. + +George Riley, the boarder, was the first to make a handsome +contribution. + +"Do you know, Rosie," he said, "here you are carrying my supper up to +the cars every night and I've never said anything more than 'Thank you.' +I just tell you I'm ashamed of myself! After this I'm going to pay you a +nickel a week regular." + +"Aw now, Jarge, you won't do any such thing!" Rosie shook her head +vigorously. "You can't afford it! And besides, Jarge, I just love to +carry your supper up to the cars, honest I do!" + +"Of course you do! And why? 'Cause you're my girl!" George turned +Rosie's face up and gave her a hearty kiss. "Now you'll be making +twenty-five cents a week regular. Here's a nickel for last week." + +Twenty-five cents a week and two good sure jobs to one who, but a few +days before, was nothing but a penniless creature dependent on any +chance windfall! Rosie hugged herself in delighted amazement. She even +bragged a little to her friend Janet McFadden. + +"Why, Janet, once you know how to do it, making money's just as easy as +falling off a log! Look at me: My papers don't take me more'n half an +hour in the afternoon and carrying Jarge's supper-pail up to the cars is +just fun. And every Saturday night twenty-five cents, if you please!" + +Janet said "Oh!" with a rising inflection and "Oh!" with a falling +inflection: "Oh! Oh!" + +"And besides that, if I hadn't my paper route I'd have to take care of +Geraldine all afternoon. Don't you see?" + +"You would indeed, Rosie, I know you would." + +Rosie looked at her friend thoughtfully. "Say, Janet, why don't you get +a job? Of course, I'll lend you my skates, but if we both had a pair we +could go to Boulevard Place together. Wouldn't that be fun?" + +Janet cleared her throat apologetically. "Do you think Terry would give +me a job, Rosie?" + +Hardly. Though he did employ Rosie, Terence was scarcely in position to +employ every needy female that might apply to him. Rosie spoke kindly +but firmly: + +"No, Janet, I don't believe Terry can take on any more girls. When I get +my skates, though, I tell you what I'll do: I'll let you 'sub' for me +sometimes. Yes. On the afternoons I go to skate on Boulevard Place, I'll +let you deliver my papers. I'll pay you three cents a day. Three cents +ain't much but, if you save 'em real hard, they count up--really they +do. If you 'sub' for me eight different times then you'll have +twenty-four cents. I told you, didn't I, that twenty-five cents is +what's coming in to me now every week regular?" + +Yes, Rosie had already specified the amount many times but Janet, being +a devoted friend, exclaimed with unabated enthusiasm: "You don't say so, +Rosie! Well, I think that's just grand!" + +Janet was right. It is fine to have an income that permits one to enjoy +the good things of life. Without a touch of envy Rosie could now view +the rich Jews and Protestants as they skimmed the smooth surface of +Boulevard Place. She, too, would soon be rolling along as well skated as +the best of them. The time was not far distant when, hearing the soft +whirr of the ball-bearings, they would look at her with a new respect +and no longer call out "Mucker!" the moment her back was turned. + +This was the happy side of saving. There was, however, another side, and +to ignore it would be to ignore the effect upon character which any +effort as conscious as saving must produce. In simple innocence Rosie +had started out supposing that all that was necessary toward saving was +to have something savable. She soon discovered her mistake. The prime +essential in saving was not, after all, the possession of a tidy little +sum coming in at regular intervals, so much as the ability to keep that +sum intact. That is to say, for the sake of this one Big Thing, that +looms up faint but powerfully attractive on the distant horizon, you +must do without all the Little Things that make daily life so pleasant. + +Alas, once you begin saving, you may no longer heedlessly sip the joys +of the moment taking no thought for the morrow. Saving involves thought +for the morrow first of all! In the old days when she hadn't a penny, +Rosie had somehow managed to enjoy an occasional ice-cream cone, or a +moving picture show, or a cent's worth of good candy. Now, on the other +hand, with money in the bank, these and all like indulgences were +forbidden. She was saving! + +If for a moment she tried to forget the wearisome task to which she had +publicly dedicated herself, some one was always at hand to remind her of +it and to rescue her, as it were, from her weaker self. For instance, if +she even hinted of thirst in the neighbourhood of a root-beer stand, +Janet McFadden would turn pale with fright and hurriedly drag her off, +imploring her to remember that, once she had her skates, she could have +all the root-beer she wanted. Yes, of course, but Rosie sometimes felt +that she wanted it when she wanted it and not at some far-off time when +she would, no doubt, be too old and decrepit to enjoy it. + +The experience began to give Rosie a clue to one of those mysteries of +conduct which had long puzzled her. She had never stood in front of the +glowing posters of a picture show, saying to herself or to any one that +chanced to be with her: "I tell you what: If I had a nickel, I bet I +know what I'd do with it!" nor paused before a bakery shop or a candy +store, that she hadn't seen other people--men, women, and children--with +eyes as full of desire as her own. What used to amaze her was that many +of these people, she was absolutely sure, had money in their pockets. +Heretofore, in her ignorance of life, she had supposed that, to possess +yourself of anything you wanted, was a simple enough matter provided you +had money in your pocket--or in your bank, which is the same thing. What +a mistake she had made! How she had misjudged those poor creatures who, +in spite of their jingling pockets, so often turned regretful backs upon +the pleasures of life. Rosie understood now. Money in their pockets had +nothing to do with it for--they were saving. + +Unknown even to themselves they were all members of a mystic +brotherhood, actuated by the same impulse, undergoing the same +sacrifices for some ultimate benefit. Look where she would, she saw them +plainly: Miss Hattie Graydon, Ellen's fashionable friend, saving for an +outing in Jersey; Janet McFadden's poor mother always saving for a new +wash-boiler; George Riley saving to give himself a good start on his +father's farm; and now, the newest recruit to their ranks, Rosie +herself, saving for ball-bearing roller skates. + +"I'd just love to go with you! If there's anything I do enjoy, it's a +matinée. But I can't. I got to have a new hat this spring." + +"I'd like to lend it to you, Charley, the worst ever, but I don't see +how I can. I got to save every cent this year for payments on the +house." + +"Waffles nuthin'! I ain't goin' a-spend a cent till I got enough money +for a new baseball mitt!" + +They were the things Rosie had been hearing all her life but never +until now had she grasped what they meant. Think of it, oh, think of +it--the heroic self-denial that masks itself in commonplaces like these! +Rosie wondered if the others, too, had their moments of weakness. +Weren't there perhaps times when George Riley sighed over the shabbiness +of his clothes, realizing that, if only he were a little sportier, Ellen +might not scorn him so utterly? + +Theoretically practice makes easy, but Rosie found that the practice of +self-denial, instead of growing easier, became harder as time went by. +The week she had a dollar ninety-five in her bank, a Dog and Pony Show +pitched its tent in a field which Rosie had to pass every afternoon on +her paper route. She thought the sight of that tent would kill her +before the week was over. The only things talked about at school were +Skippo, the monkey that jumped the rope, Fifi, the dancing poodle, and +Don, the pony, who shook hands with people in the front row. Afternoon +admission was ten cents but, nevertheless, there were people who +attended daily. + +Even Janet McFadden, valiant soul that she was, grew pale and wan under +the strain. "Of course, though, Rosie," she said, "you wouldn't have +time to go even if some one was to give you a ticket." + +This was Friday, so Rosie was able to answer: "I could go tomorrow +afternoon, Janet. You know the Saturday matinée begins at two instead of +half-past three. That'd get it over by four. I could ask you or +somebody to get my papers for me and meet me at the tent at four +o'clock. Then I'd be only a few minutes late." + +Janet made hopeless assent. "Yes, I could get them for you all right. +And if some one was to give me a ticket, Tom Sullivan would get them for +you--I know he would. Tom would do anything for you, Rosie." + +Tom was Janet's red-haired cousin and a flame of Rosie's. + +"Yes, Janet, I suppose Tom would. But there's no use talking about +it.... Now if only I could just take----" + +Rosie broke off and Janet, understanding her thought, murmured hastily: +"No, no, Rosie! Of course you can't take any of that!" + +Janet was right. Rosie could not possibly raid her own bank. Too many +eyes were upon her. Yet all she needed was a quarter: ten cents for +herself, ten for Janet, and five for her small brother. She couldn't go +without Janet and Jack and, as she hadn't a cent anyhow, it was just as +easy to plan the expenditure of a quarter as of a dime. + +She wondered idly if there could by some happy chance be more in her +bank than she supposed. She hadn't counted her savings for nearly a +week. There wasn't much likelihood that a dime or a quarter or a nickel +had escaped her count, but perhaps now--... There was one chance in a +thousand, for Rosie was not very strong in addition. At any rate, after +supper she would slip up to the wardrobe and, with a bent hairpin, make +investigations. A dollar ninety-five was all she was responsible for to +the world at large. If her bank contained more, she could appropriate +the surplus and no one be the wiser. + +Supper afforded one excitement. + +"Oh, lookee!" Jack suddenly cried, pointing an excited finger at Ellen. +It was the period of pompadour and false hair and Rosie and Terence, +following Jack's finger, saw a new cluster of shiny black curls in +Ellen's already elaborate coiffure. + +"Get on to the curls, Rosie," Terence remarked facetiously. "Lord, ain't +we stylish!" + +Ellen made no remark but seemed a little flurried. + +"Shame on you, Terry!" Mrs. O'Brien expostulated. "Talkin' so of your +own sister! Don't you know if Ellen's to be a stenog, she's got to be +careful of her appearance? All the young ladies at the college are +wearing curls." + +Terence answered shortly: "She can wear all the curls she wants as soon +as she's able to pay for them. But I tell you one thing, Ma: you needn't +think you're going to get me to pay for them, because I won't. She tried +to work me for them last week and I told her I wouldn't." + +Ellen regarded her brother distantly. "You make me tired, Terence +O'Brien. When you're asked to pay for these curls it'll be time for you +to squeal." + +"Are they paid for already?" + +"Of course they're paid for already. Do you think I can get curls on +tick?" + +Terence's incredulity changed to suspicion. Turning to his mother he +demanded: "Did you give her the two dollars you begged from me for the +baby's food?" + +Mrs. O'Brien spread out distracted hands. "Why, Terry lad, of course I +didn't! Rosie went to the drug-store herself with the money, didn't you, +Rosie?" + +Yes, Rosie had, but even this did not satisfy Terry. + +"Well, anyhow, I bet she's playing crooked somewhere!" + +Ellen disdained to answer and Rosie remarked: "I'd rather spend my money +on skates than on old curls." + +Ellen looked at her kindly. "They say skates are going out of style, +Rosie." + +Rosie folded her hands complacently. "I don't care whether they're going +out or coming in. I don't like 'em because they're fashionable but +because I like 'em. If the Boulevard Placers didn't have one pair I'd +want to go up there by myself and skate by myself just the same. I love +roller skates! And, what's more, by the time vacation comes I'll have +the finest pair of ball-bearing skates in town! And vacation, mind you, +comes at the end of next week!" + +Terence nodded a cautious approval. "You're that close to the finish, +are you, Rosie?" + +"Sure I am. Tomorrow night when I get paid I'll have two twenty and, by +the end of next week, if I can manage to scrape up an extra nickel, I'll +have two fifty exact." + +Mrs. O'Brien fluttered her hands nervously. "I dunno about all this +skatin', Rosie dear. I dunno if it's healthy to jump around so." + +Rosie smiled superiorly. "I don't jump around. I know how to skate." + +A few moments later Ellen excused herself from her usual evening duties +on the plea that her friend, Hattie Graydon, had invited her out. So +Rosie had to wipe the supper dishes as well as wash them before she +could slip upstairs for the purpose of counting her savings. + +She found the wardrobe key in its usual place and the little bank where +she had put it, hidden beneath her mother's Sunday hat. She reached for +it and lifted it up and then, with a loud cry, she clutched it hard and +shook it with all her might. + +"Ma! Ma!" she screamed, flying wildly downstairs. "My money! Some one's +taken all my money!" + +"Ssh!" Mrs. O'Brien implored. "Ye'll be wakin' Geraldine!" + +For once Rosie heeded not the warning. "I tell you my money's gone! Some +one stole it! Listen here!" She was weeping distractedly and waving the +empty bank aloft. "There's not a cent left! And, Terry, look here how +they took it!" + +The thief had not even had the grace to use a hairpin, but had calmly +bent back the opening slit. + +Terence looked at his mother sternly. "Ma, who took Rosie's money?" + +Mrs. O'Brien squirmed uncomfortably. "Now, Terry lad, how do I know who +took it? But I do know this: whoever it was that took it only borrowed +it and Rosie'll get paid back." + +"Paid back!" wept Rosie. "Don't talk to me about getting paid back in +this house! I guess I know!" + +With a determined eye Terence held his mother's wavering attention. +"Now, Ma, you know very well who took that money and I want you to tell +me." + +"Why, Terry lad, how you talk!" Mrs. O'Brien turned her head to listen, +in hopes, apparently, that the baby would require her presence. "But I +will say one thing, Terry: Ye know yirself a young girl, if she goes +out, has to keep up appearances." + +Terence nodded grimly. "So it was Ellen, was it? I thought so." + +"Ellen," Rosie repeated in a dazed tone. Then her body grew tense, her +eyes blazed. "Terry, I know! Those curls! I bet anything it was those +curls!" + +Mrs. O'Brien made no denial and Rosie, dropping her head on the table, +wept her heart out. + +"Terry, Terry, what do you know about that! And after the way I been +working hard and saving every cent for two whole months! Just think of +it! And you know yourself the fuss she always made about my selling +papers at all! It's disgraceful for me to sell papers because I'm a +girl, but it ain't disgraceful for her to go steal all my money and buy +curls!... And I can't do nuthin'! If she was a nigger, I could have her +arrested but, because she's my own sister, I can't do nuthin'! Oh, how I +hate her, how I hate her!..." + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed unhappily. "But, Rosie dear, Ellen'll be paying you +back as soon as she gets a job. She promised me faithfully she would. +You see, she'll soon be going around to them offices now and she feels +she ought to be lookin' her best. Oh, you'll be gettin' back your money +all right! Why, nowadays a good stenog gets ten dollars a week up!" + +Terence cut his mother off sharply. "Aw, forget it! You can't fool Rosie +with guff like that! I tell you, Ellen's nuthin' but a low-down crook +and it's your fault, too, for encouraging her!" + +"But, Terence lad, what could I do? I thried to dissuade her, but ye +know yirself how set she is once she gets an idea into her head." + +Yes, Terence and Rosie both knew and they knew, likewise, their mother's +helplessness in her hands. With no further words they could easily +imagine just what had taken place. Mrs. O'Brien had, no doubt, tried +hard to protect Rosie's interests. She could always be depended on to +protect the interests of an absent child. Her present attitude was an +evidence of this, for now she was turned about seeking to defend Ellen +because Ellen was absent. + +A wail from upstairs brought her ineffectual excuses to a close and, +with a "Whisht! The baby!" she fled. + +Rosie, crushed and miserable, wept on. Terence put an awkward hand on +her shoulder. + +"Say, Rosie, I'm awful sorry, honest I am. I wish I could give you a +quarter, but I can't this week. They've cleaned me out. Here's a nickel, +though." + +Rosie did not want the nickel; at that moment she did not want anything; +she took it, however, because Terry wished her to. + +"Thanks, Terry. It wasn't your fault. You're not a sneak and a thief. +I--I'm glad some of my relations are honest." + +Little Jack, who had been listening gravely, snuggled up with a sudden +suggestion: "Say, Rosie, if you want me to, I'll kick her in the shins +when she comes in." + +Rosie wiped her eyes sadly. "No, Jackie, I don't see how that'll do any +good." + +"Do you want me to spit in her eye?" + +Rosie gave Jack a tight hug, for his sympathy was sweet. Then she shook +her head reprovingly. "You mustn't talk like that, Jackie, and you +mustn't do things like that, either. You don't want to be a mucker, do +you?" + +For this once Jack thought that perhaps he did, but, when Rosie +insisted, he promised to behave. + +From babyhood he had been Rosie's special charge, so now, when the time +came, she took him upstairs and saw him safely to bed. Then she herself +slipped down to the front porch and there on the steps, in the dark +electric shadow, she waited for her friend, George Riley. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +GEORGE RILEY ON MUCKERS + + +Rosie had not long to wait, as George's run ended at nine o'clock. + +"Sst! Jarge!" she called softly as he bounded up the steps and would +have passed her in the dark. + +"Is that you, Rosie?" + +"Sit down a minute, Jarge. I want to ask you something." + +George mopped his head with his handkerchief and drew a long breath. +"Whew, but I'm tired, Rosie! I rang up over seventy-five fares three +times tonight." + +Rosie opened with no preliminary remarks. "Say, Jarge, can you lend me +twenty-five cents until tomorrow night? You know I get paid tomorrow." + +"Sure, Rosie. What for?" + +"I want to go to the Dog Show matinée." + +George paused a moment. "But, Rosie, you don't need twenty-five cents +for that. You told me it was ten cents." + +"I know, Jarge, but I want to take Jackie and Janet." + +"Why, Rosie!" + +"Well, if I don't, poor Janet'll never get there. She never gets +anywhere. You know her father boozes every cent. And I just got to take +Jackie if I go myself. Besides, he'll only cost me five cents and that +will let me use the nickel Terry gave me for peanuts." + +"But, Rosie,"--George cleared his throat--"I thought you were saving +every penny. You know you can't save and spend at the same time." + +"I'm not saving any more." Rosie spoke quietly, evenly. + +"Not saving any more! What do you mean, Rosie? What's happened?" + +She could feel his kind jolly eyes looking at her through the dark but +she knew that he could not see the tears which suddenly filled her own. + +"N-nothing," she quavered. + +"Rosie! Tell me!" He put his arm about her shoulder and drew her to him. +At the tenderness in his voice and touch, all the sense of outrage and +loss in Rosie's heart welled up afresh and broke in sobs which she could +not control. + +"I wasn't going to tell you, Jarge, honest I wasn't, because you're dead +gone on her and, besides, she's my own sister." + +For a few seconds Rosie could say no more and George, with a sudden +tightening of the arm that encircled her, waited in silence. + +"I--I was going up to count my money, Jarge, and what do you think? Some +one had smashed open the bank and taken every cent! I tell you there +wasn't even one cent left! And, Jarge, I've been saving so hard--you +know I have!" She lay on his shoulder, her body shaking with sobs. + +George spoke with an effort: "Why do you think it was Ellen?" + +"Terry and me got it out o' ma. When we cornered her she told us.... And +she's gone and spent it on a bunch of curls! Think of that, Jarge--curls +for her hair! Just because Hattie Graydon's got false curls, Ellen's got +to have them, too! Now do you call that fair? I saved awful hard for +that money, you know I did, and it was my own!" + +George sighed. "Poor kiddo! Of course it was your own! But Ellen'll pay +you back, I--I'm sure she will." + +"That's what ma says. But, Jarge, even if she does, it won't be the same +thing. Just tell me how you'd feel yourself if all your savings were +snatched away from you!" + +George's answer was unexpected. "They have been, Rosie, a good many +times." + +"What!" Rosie sat up in fright and astonishment. "Has she dared to go +and break into your trunk?" + +George laughed weakly. "No, Rosie, it ain't Ellen this time." He paused +a moment. "I've told you about my father's farm. It's a good farm and +I'd rather live on it and work it than do anything else on earth. But +it's got run down, Rosie. The old man's had a mighty long spell of +unluck. A few years ago he got a little mortgage piled up on it and for +nearly two years now he hasn't kept it up like he ought to. In the +country you've got to have ready money to wipe out mortgages and to +start things goin' right. That's why I'm here in town railroading and +that's why I'm saving every cent until people think I'm a tightwad." + +"But, Jarge, how did they get it away from you so many times?" + +"Well, just to show you: Two years ago one of the barns burned down. +That cost me two hundred dollars. Last summer we lost a couple of our +best cows worth sixty dollars apiece. This winter the old man was laid +up with rheumatiz a couple o' months and it cost me a dollar a day to +get the chores done, let alone the doctor bill. And each time I was just +about ready to blow my job here and hike for home. I thought sure I'd be +doing my own plowing this spring." + +Weariness and discouragement sounded in his voice and Rosie, forgetting +her own troubles, slipped her arms about his neck. + +"I'm awful sorry, Jarge. Maybe if nothing happens this summer you'll be +able to go back in the fall." + +George shook himself doggedly. "Oh, I'll get there some time! I cleaned +up the mortgage the first year I was here and now I'm working to pile up +five hundred in the bank before I go. I'm getting there, too, but I +hope to God I won't have any more setbacks!" + +"And if you do, Jarge?..." + +The answer came sharp and quick: "I'll save all the harder!" + +For a few moments both were silent. Then George spoke: "I'm sorry, +Rosie, about this thing. I know how you feel. If you want to, after this +you may hide your savings in my trunk. I've got two keys and I'll give +you one." + +"I--I didn't think I was going to save any more, Jarge." + +"Not save? Of course you're going to save! You've got to save!" + +"Why?" + +"So's to have something to show for your work!" + +"But it takes so awful long, Jarge, and even then maybe you lose it." + +"I know, Rosie, but even so you got to do it. It's only muckers that +never save." + +"Why, Jarge!" + +"Sure, Rosie. Only muckers. They blow in every cent they get as soon as +they make it or before. That's why they can afford to go off on drunks +and holler around and smash things up. They ain't got nuthin' to lose no +matter what they do. Oh, I tell you, Rosie, just show me a loud-mouthed +mucker and I'll show you a fellow that don't know the first thing about +saving!" + +"Really, Jarge?" + +"Yes, really. And the same way, take decent hard-working people and what +do you find? As sure as you're alive, you'll find them saving every cent +to put the children through school, or pay for their home, or take care +of the old folks. I tell you, Rosie, you got to save if ever you get +anywhere in this world!" + +"But, Jarge, I--I think I just got to go to that Dog Show now." + +George laughed and gave her a little hug. "All right, kiddo. Here's the +quarter. Have a good time and tell me about it afterwards. Next week, +you know, you can begin saving in earnest. My trunk----" + +"Please, Jarge," Rosie begged, "don't make me promise. Give me a week to +think about it." + +"Of course you can have a week to think about it." They were standing up +now, ready to go into the house. "But I know all right what you'll +decide." + +"How do you know?" + +George stooped and gave her a hearty country kiss, smack on the mouth. +"Because I know there's nothing of the mucker about Rosie O'Brien!" + +And Rosie, as she slipped upstairs, tying the quarter in the corner of +her handkerchief, suddenly realized that she was no longer unhappy. How +could any one be unhappy who had a friend as good and as kind as George +Riley? And, in addition to him, she had nice old Terry--hadn't he given +her a nickel and been sorry it wasn't a quarter?--and dear little Jackie +and the faithful Janet and poor old Danny Agin, too! Thank goodness, +neither Ellen nor any one else could steal them away from her! + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JACKIE + + +In declaring that Ellen would repay the money she had taken from Rosie's +bank, Mrs. O'Brien had spoken in all sincerity. She was perfectly +convinced in her own mind that every one of her children would always do +exactly as he should do. She was willing to acknowledge that the poor +dears might occasionally make mistakes, but such mistakes, she was +certain, were mistakes of judgment, not of principle. Give them time, +she begged, and in the end they would do the right thing. She'd stake +her word on that! + +Ellen's own attitude was one of annoyance, not to say resentment, that +she had been forced to raise money for the curls in so troublesome a +manner. Rosie's reproachful glances and Terry's revilings irritated but +in no way touched her. In fact, she seemed to think that, in +appropriating Rosie's savings, she had been acting entirely within her +rights. She would never have been guilty of touching anything belonging +to an outsider but, like many selfish people, she had as little respect +for the property of the members of her own immediate family as she had +for their feelings. It was quite as though she conscientiously believed +that the rest of the O'Briens had been placed in this world for the sole +purpose of adding to her comfort and convenience. It always surprised +her, often it bored her, sometimes it even grieved her that they did not +share this view. It seemed to her nothing less than stupidity on their +part not to. + +So, despite her mother's promises, despite George Riley's hopes, Rosie +knew perfectly well that her savings would never be refunded. They were +gone and that was to be the end of them. Thanks to kind George Riley, +Rosie had weathered the first storm of disappointment and had learned +that, notwithstanding a selfish unscrupulous sister, life was still +worth living. Neither then nor later did she definitely forgive Ellen +the theft--how could she forgive when Ellen, apparently, was conscious +of no guilt?--but she tried resolutely not to spend her time in vain +regrets and useless complainings. The days passed and life, like the +great river that it is, flowed over the little tragedy and soon covered +it from sight. + +The school year slowly drew to a close and at last Mrs. O'Brien felt +free to make a request about which she had been throwing out vague hints +for some time. + +[Illustration: "Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie."] + +"Rosie dear," she began with an imploring smile, "now that vacation's +come and you don't have to go back any more to school, won't you, like a +good child, help your poor ma and take care of your little sister +Geraldine? Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie." + +Mrs. O'Brien held out the baby, but Rosie backed resolutely away. + +"Now see here, Ma, you just needn't begin on that, because I won't. I +guess I do enough in this house without taking care of Geraldine: I wash +all the dishes, and that old Ellen O'Brien hardly ever even wipes them; +and I do the outside scrubbing; and I go to the grocery for you six +times a day; and I help with the cooking, too; and I always carry up +Jarge's supper to the cars; and I take care of Jackie. Besides all that, +I got my paper route. I guess that's enough for any one person." + +Mrs. O'Brien conceded this readily enough. "Of course it is, Rosie dear, +and I'm not sayin' it ain't. You're a great worker, and a fine little +manager, too. I used to be a manager meself, but after ye've been the +mother of eight, and three of them dead and gone--God rest their +souls!--things kind o' slip away from you, do ye see? What was it I was +sayin' now? Ah, yes, this: now that summer's come, if only ye'd help me +out with Geraldine, p'rhaps I could catch up with me work. Like a +darlint, now." + +Mrs. O'Brien, shifting Geraldine from one warm arm to the other, smiled +ingratiatingly; but Rosie only shook her head more doggedly than before. + +"No, Ma. The rest of the people in this house don't do things they don't +want to do, and for once I'm not going to either. I tell you I'm not +going to begin lugging Geraldine around!" + +"You poor infant!" Mrs. O'Brien crooned tearfully, "and does nobody love +you? Ah, now, don't cry! Your poor ma loves you even if your own sister +Rosie don't!" + +Responsive to the pity expressed in her mother's tones, Geraldine raised +a fretful wail, but Rosie, though she felt something of a murderess, +still held out. + +"I tell you, Ma, Jackie's my baby. I've taken good care of him, and +that's all you can ask." + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed in patient exasperation. "But, Rosie dear, can't you +see that Jackie's a big b'y now, well able to take care of himself?" + +"Take care of himself! Why, Ma, how you talk! Don't I have to wash him +and button his shoes and put him to bed?" + +"Well, I must say, Rosie, it's high time he did such things for +himself--a fine, healthy lad going on six! Why, yourself, Rosie, hadn't +turned six when you began mothering Jackie!" + +It was not a subject Rosie cared to argue, so she retired in dignified +silence. But her mother's words troubled her. In her heart she knew that +Jackie was a well-grown boy even if in many things he was still a baby. +But why shouldn't he still be a baby? The truth was Rosie wanted him to +be a baby; it delighted her to feel that he was dependent on her; it was +her greatest pleasure in life to do things for him. And if she was +willing to serve him, why, pray, should other people object? + +Unfortunately, though, certain disturbing changes were coming over +Jackie himself. Within a few months he had burst, as it were, the +chrysalis of his babyhood and come forth a full-fledged small boy with +all a small boy's keenness to be exactly like all other small boys. +Rosie's interest in his welfare he had begun to resent as interference; +her supervision of him he was openly repudiating; and, worst of all, he +was showing unmistakable signs of becoming fast friends with Joe +Slattery, youngest member of the family and neighbourhood gang of the +same name. Rosie had done her best to check the growing intimacy, but in +vain. So long as school continued, Jack could meet Joe in the +school-yard, and Rosie had been helpless to interfere. But now, for the +coming of vacation, she had a project carefully thought out. In her own +mind she had already arranged picnics at the zoo, excursions to the +woods, jaunts to the park, that would so occupy and divert the attention +of Jack that he would soon forget Joe and the lure of the Slattery gang. + +What time, may one ask, would Rosie have for this work if she burdened +herself with Geraldine? None whatever. No. Geraldine was her mother's +baby, and if her mother didn't insist on Ellen's relieving her a little, +why, then she would have to go on alone as best she could. With her +everlasting excuse of business college, Ellen did little enough about +the house anyway. Rosie hardened her heart and, as the family gathered +for midday meal, was ready with a plan for that very afternoon. + +She broached the subject at the table. "Say, Jackie, do you want to come +with me this afternoon? I'm going somewheres." + +"Oh, I dunno." + +Rosie's heart sank. But a short time ago he would have jumped down from +his chair and rushed over to her with an eager: "Oh, Rosie, where you +going? Where you going?" Now all he had to say was an indifferent, "I +dunno." + +Rosie made one more effort to arouse his old enthusiasm. "Me and Janet +are going up to Boulevard Place." + +She waited expectantly, and Jack finally grunted out in bored +politeness: "That so?" + +A moment later his indifference vanished at a vigorous shout from +outside: "Hi, there, Jack! Where are you?" It was Joe Slattery's voice. + +"I'm th'u," Jack announced, gulping down a last bite. "I got to go." + +"Where you going, Jackie?" Rosie tried not to show in her voice the +anxiety she felt. + +"Oh, nowheres. Don't you take hold o' me, Rosie, 'cause I'm in a hurry." + +Rosie went with him to the door, still keeping her hand on his shoulder. +"Please tell me where you're going." + +"You just let go my arm! I'll kick if you don't!" + +Jack struggled violently, broke away, and, escaping to a safe distance, +scowled back at Rosie angrily. "'Tain't none o' your business where I'm +going! Guess I can go where I want to!" + +"Oh, Jackie, Jackie! Is that the way to talk to your poor Rosie?" + +Joe Slattery, who had, of course, instantly espoused his friend's cause, +now spoke: "He's goin' in swimmin'! That's where he's goin' if you want +to know it!" + +"Swimmin'! You mustn't, Jackie, you mustn't! You'll get drownd-ed! Sure +he will, Joe! He don't know how to swim one bit!" + +Joe grinned mockingly. "Guess he can learn, can't he?" + +Rosie paused distractedly, then clutched at the only straw that floated +by. "See here, Jackie, you can go with Joe and you can look on, but +listen: if you promise me you won't go in, I'll give you a whole +nickel!" + +Jack looked at Joe and Joe looked at Jack. Then with the eye farthest +away from Rosie, Rosie thought she saw Joe screw out a small wink. +Thereupon Jack turned to Rosie with a frank, guileless smile. + +"All right, Rosie. You give me a nickel and I won't--honest I won't." + +"You promise me faithfully you won't go in?" + +"Sure I won't, Rosie! Cross my heart!" + +Rosie drew out one of her hard-earned nickels and gave it to him. He +and Joe promptly hurried off. + +"Now, remember!" Rosie called after them, beseechingly; but they seemed +not to hear, for they made her no answer. + +Rosie went back to the table almost in tears. "Jackie's gone off with +that Joe Slattery and they're goin' in swimmin' and I just know he'll +get drownd-ed!" + +"You don't say so!" ejaculated Mrs. O'Brien. "Why didn't you tell me, +Rosie dear, before they got started?" + +"Tell you!" Rosie's tears changed to scorn. "Why'd I tell you? You know +very well how much you'd do! You always let every one do just what they +want!" + +Mrs. O'Brien blinked reproachful eyes. "Why, Rosie, how you talk! If +you'd ha' told me that Jackie was goin' in swimmin' I'd ha' gone out to +him and said: 'Now, Jackie dear, mind the water! Don't go in the deep +places first!' I give you me word, Rosie, I'd ha' said it if it were me +last breath!" + +Rosie lost all patience. "I know very well that's exactly what you'd +say! That's all the sense you got! That's all the sense that anybody in +this house has got! And I suppose by this time Jackie's drownd-ed, and +if he is I want to die, too!" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her in amazement. "Why, Rosie dear, what a +flutter ye do be puttin' yourself into! Ah, now I see. It's because +Jackie's your first chick! Take me word for it, darlint, when ye're the +mother of eight ye won't be carryin' on so. Come to think about it, I +remember meself over Mickey--God rest his soul!--the first day he went +swimmin'. Mickey was just turned seven, and Terry here was toddlin' +about on the floor, and yourself was in me arms no bigger than poor wee +Geraldine. + +"'Where's Mickey?' says I to Mrs. Flaherty, who was livin' next door. + +"'Mickey?' says she. 'Why, didn't I see Mickey start off with the b'ys? +They be gone swimmin',' says she. + +"'Swimmin'!' says I, and with that I lets out a yell. 'He'll be +drownd-ed!' says I. 'Me poor Mickey'll be drownd-ed!' + +"'Be aisy, Mrs. O'Brien,' says she; 'or ye'll be spoilin' yir milk and +then what'll ye do?' And she was right, Rosie, was Mrs. Flaherty, for +Mickey got back safe and sound, to be carried off two years later with +scarlet fever!" + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head complacently and poured herself another cup +of tea. + +Rosie, her face still tragic and woebegone, turned to her brother. "Will +you do something for me, Terry?" + +"What?" + +"Follow Jackie out and see that he don't get into deep water." + +Terry looked at her as if she were crazy. "Sorry, Rosie, but I got +something more to do than trail Jack around. Besides, he's not going to +get hurt. It'll be good for him." + +Rosie washed the dinner dishes in silence, thinking to herself what a +cold-blooded family she had. There was poor wee Jackie out there +drowning, for all they knew, and not one of them willing to stretch +forth a helping hand. She escaped as soon as she could to seek the +sympathy of her friend, Janet McFadden. + +Another blow was in store for her. Janet heard her out and then said: +"But, Rosie, don't all boys go swimming?" + +Rosie was ready to weep with vexation. "What do I care what all boys do? +This is Jack!" + +"Well," said Janet, with maddening logic, "even if it is Jack, I guess +Jack's a boy." + +Drawing herself up to her greatest height, Rosie looked her friend full +in the face. "If that's all you got to say, Janet McFadden, I guess I +had better be going. Good-bye." + +"Don't you want me to help with your papers this afternoon?" Janet +called after her. + +"No!" Rosie spoke brusquely, then added lamely: "I'm in a hurry today." + +"Oh, very well!" Janet lifted her head and tightened her lips. "I'm sure +I don't want to go where I'm not wanted." + +"So she's mad at me, too!" Rosie told herself as she hurried off, +feeling more miserable than before. + +She got her papers and went about delivering them, nursing her grief in +her heart, till she came to old Danny Agin's cottage. Then she talked +and Danny, as usual, listened quietly and sympathetically. + +At first he had nothing to say. He screwed his head about thoughtfully, +squinted at his pipe, tapped it several times on the porch rail, blew +through the stem, then finally cleared his throat. + +"It's just this way, Rosie: I know exactly how ye feel. Jack's yir own +baby, as it were; but, whist, darlint, he can't be always taggin' after +ye, don't ye see? He's a pretty big lump of a b'y now, and if I was you +I'd just let him run and play by himself when the mood takes him. Then, +when he comes back, just talk to him like nuthin' was the matther, and +upon me word, Rosie, he'll love ye all the more for it." + +"But, Danny," Rosie wailed, "what if he was to get drownd-ed?" + +Danny reached over and patted her on the arm confidentially. "Ah, now, +Rosie, what if we was all to get drownd-ed? You know it happened wance. +Noah was the gintleman's name. From all accounts 'twas a fearful +experience. But 'twas a long time ago, and since then any number of us +have escaped. Why, Rosie dear, I've never yet been drownd-ed meself, and +in me young days I was mighty fond of the wather. So cheer up, darlint, +for the chances are that Jackie'll come out all right." + +Rosie dried her eyes listlessly. It seemed to her they were all in +conspiracy against her. Yes, she was sure of it. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +HOW TO KEEP A DUCK OUT OF WATER + + +Jack was home in good time for supper. + +"Ah, now, do you see, Rosie?" Her mother pointed to him in triumph. +"It's just as I told you. Here he is safe and sound. But, Jackie dear, +mind now: the next time don't ye go into the deep water until ye know +how to swim." + +Ellen glanced at him amusedly. "Been in swimmin', kid?" + +To Rosie the question seemed both stupid and inane, for Jack's face had +a clean, varnished look that was unmistakable, and his hair had dried in +stiff, shiny streaks close to his head. + +He was hungry and ate with zest, but he said little and carefully +avoided Rosie's eye. Very soon after supper he slipped off quietly to +bed. Rosie did not pursue him. She was waiting for George Riley, upon +whom she was pinning her last hope. + +Presently he came but, before she had time to get his advice, she was +hurried upstairs by Jackie himself, who called down in urgent, tearful +tones: + +"Rosie! Oh, Rosie! Come here! Please come! Come quick!" + +The little front bedroom with its sloping walls and one dormer window +was Ellen's room, theoretically. Actually, Rosie shared Ellen's bed, and +Jack's little cot stood at the bottom of the bed between the door and +the bureau. + +Rosie felt hurriedly for matches and candle. "Now, Jackie dear, what's +the matter? You're not sick, are you? Tell Rosie." + +"It hurts! It hurts!" Jack was sitting up, wailing dolefully. He reached +toward Rosie in a helpless, appealing way that warmed her heart. +Whatever was the matter, it was bringing him back to her. + +"What is it hurts, Jackie?" + +"My back! It burns! I tell you it's just burnin' up!" + +Rosie gently lifted off his nightshirt and held the candle close. + +"Jackie! What's happened to your back and shoulders? They're all red and +swollen! What did those Slattery boys do to you?" + +"They didn't do nuthin', Rosie, honest they didn't. Ouch! Ouch! Can't +you do something to make it stop hurting?" + +"Wait a minute, Jackie, and I'll call Jarge Riley. Jarge'll know what to +do." + +George came at once and as quickly recognized Jack's ailment. "Ha, ha, +Jack, old boy, how's your sunburn? Jiminy, you've got a good one this +time!... Say, how's the water?" + +[Illustration: Rosie gently lifted off his nightshirt and held the +candle close.] + +"Ugh-h-h!" moaned Jack. "It hurts!" Then with a change of voice he +answered George enthusiastically: "Dandy! Just as warm and nice as +anything!" + +George sighed. "Golly! Wisht I was a kid again! There sure is no place +like the old swimmin'-hole in the good old summer-time!" + +Rosie glared indignantly. "Jarge Riley, ain't you ashamed of yourself! +It's dangerous to go in swimming and you know it is! Jackie's never +going in again, are you, Jackie?" + +Jack snuffled tearfully: "My back hurts! Can't some o' you do something +for it?" + +Rosie turned stiffly to George. "What I called you up here for was to +ask you what's good for a sunburnt back." + +"Excuse me," murmured George meekly. "Let's see now: We ought to put on +some oil or grease, then some powder or flour." + +"Will lard do?" Rosie still spoke coldly. + +"Yes, but vaseline would be better. There's a bottle of vaseline on my +bureau. Do you want to get it, Rosie?" + +Rosie hurried off and returned just in time to hear George say: "Oh, you +can go in again in two or three days." + +Rosie blazed on him furiously. "Jarge Riley, what are you telling +Jackie?" + +"I?" He spoke with an assumption of innocence and that look of +guilelessness which Rosie was fast learning to associate with male +deceit. "I was just telling him it would take a couple o' days for his +back to peel. Then he'll be all right again." + +Rosie looked at him in scorn, but made no comment. She resolved one +thing: George Riley should have no more moments alone with Jack. When +the time came, she made him go downstairs for the flour-shaker, then +curtly dismissed him. + +"I guess you can go now, Jarge. Jackie wants to go to sleep. Now, Jackie +dear, just lie on your stummick and you'll be asleep in two minutes." + +George hesitated a moment. "Didn't you say you wanted to see me about +something, Rosie?" + +Rosie looked at him steadily. "If ever I said that it was before I knew +you as well as I know you now. Now they isn't anything I want to say to +you." + +George gasped helplessly and departed, and Rosie, after settling Jack +comfortably, blew out the candle.... So even George Riley had joined the +conspiracy against her! Well, she was not done fighting yet. + +She insisted upon making an invalid of Jack the next morning, keeping +him in bed and carrying up his breakfast to him. All day long, she +waited on him, hand and foot, loved, amused, coaxed, threatened, bribed +him, until by evening she had him weak and helpless, ready to agree to +anything she might suggest. + +At supper Mrs. O'Brien beamed on him sympathetically and remarked to +Ellen, who was just home from business college: "Ellen dear, do you +know the awful back o' sunburn poor wee Jack's got on him? Rosie's been +nursing him all day." + +Ellen glanced at Terry and laughed. "Do you remember, Terry, how you +used to come home after your first swim every summer?" + +Jack looked up eagerly. "Oh, Terry, did you used to get sunburned, too?" + +Terry nodded. "Sure I did. Every fella does." + +Jack's face took on an expression of heavenly content. + +"Is it peeling yet?" Terry asked. + +"No, but it's cracking." Jack's tone was hopeful. + +Rosie moved uneasily. "Terence O'Brien, I just wish you'd look out what +you're saying, and you too, Ellen! It's dangerous to go in swimming, and +Jackie's never going again, are you, Jackie?" + +Jack hesitated a moment, then murmured a weak little "No." + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded approvingly. "Ah, now, ain't Jack the good b'y to +promise sister Rosie never to go in swimmin' again!" + +Ellen chuckled. "At least until his back's well!" + +Rosie flew at her sister like an angry little clucking hen. "Ellen +O'Brien, you just mind your own business! Come on, Jackie, we're +through. We're going out in front by ourselves, aren't we?" + +Jack, apparently, wanted to remain where he was; but when Rosie +whispered, "And I've got another penny for you," he slipped quietly +down from his chair. + +When you know that this was Jack's fifth penny for that day, you have +some idea of what the struggle was costing Rosie. A week's wages seemed +in a fair way of being eaten up in a few days. It was a fearful drain on +her resources, but anything, Rosie told herself, to keep him out of the +clutches of the Slattery gang! + +By the third day his back was dry and peeling. After dinner, as Rosie +was coming home from the grocery, she found him at the front gate +boasting about it to Joe Slattery. + +Rosie interrupted politely: "Jackie, will you come into the house a +minute? I got something to ask you." + +Jack looked at her kindly. "All right, Rosie. You go on in and I'll be +in in a minute." + +The dismissal was so friendly that Rosie could not gainsay it. She +hurried around to the back door and then rushed through the house to the +front door, which she slipped open wide enough to see and to hear what +was going on at the gate. Joe Slattery's voice carried distinctly. + +"Say, Jack, what do you say to goin' down now? Aw, come on! Let's." + +Rosie did not have to ask herself what Joe Slattery was proposing; she +knew only too well. Breathless, she awaited Jack's answer. It came with +scarcely an instant's hesitation. + +"All right. Let's." + +Jack was out of the gate and off before Rosie could push open the front +door. + +"Jackie! Jackie! Where you going? Wait for Rosie!" + +"Me and Joe got to go down and see a fella. We'll be back soon, won't +we, Joe?" + +"Sure we will, Rosie. We'll be back in ten minutes." + +Rosie shook her head reproachfully. "Jackie, Jackie, you're telling +Rosie a story, you know you are! You're going swimming and you promised +me you wouldn't! Oh, Jackie, how can you, after the nickel I gave you +this morning, and the seven cents yesterday, and the nickel the day +before, and the nickel of the first day you went with Joe? Oh, Jackie, +how can you take poor Rosie's money and then act that way?" + +Jack had nothing to say, but Joe Slattery was able to answer for him. + +"Aw, go on, Rosie O'Brien--Jack's goin' in swimmin' if he wants to! I +guess you ain't his boss! Come on, Jack!" + +Joe threw his arm about Jack's shoulder and together they marched off. + +Rosie put forth one last effort: "Jackie O'Brien, you listen here: If +you go swimming with Joe Slattery, I----" She searched about frantically +for some threat sufficiently terrifying. She paused a moment, then hit +upon something which, a few months earlier, would have worked like +magic. "If you do, _I'll never button your shoes again! Never again!_" + +Jack glanced back insolently over Joe's shoulder. "Aw, go on! What do I +care? Anyway, it's summer-time and I'm goin' barefoot!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A LITTLE MOTHER HEN + + +For Rosie this was the end. This was defeat and she accepted it as such. +Slowly and tearfully she dragged herself into the house. + +"Ma, Ma, after all I've done, there he's gone!" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked up in concern. "Who did you say was gone, Rosie?" + +"Jackie! He's gone off swimming again with that old Joe Slattery!" + +"Is that all it is, Rosie?" Mrs. O'Brien seemed much relieved. "You gave +me quite a turn." + +"But, Ma, what am I going to do?" + +"Well, Rosie dear, what do you want to do?" + +"I want to save Jackie from those old Slatterys." + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed sympathetically. "Ah, I'm afeared you can't do that, +Rosie. Jack's a b'y and you know how it is: b'ys do like to run around +with other b'ys." + +"But what if he gets all sunburnt again and maybe drownd-ed?" + +"Ah, now, but maybe he won't." + +There were times when, to Rosie, her mother's easy-going optimism was +maddening. Today it seemed to her the very sort of thing you might +expect to find in a hot, untidy kitchen cluttered up with +clothes-horses and steaming with fresh ironing. The rickety old +baby-carriage, draped in mosquito-netting, stood near the ironing board, +and Mrs. O'Brien, as she changed irons, would give it a push or two. +Geraldine was whimpering miserably, and little wonder, Rosie felt. + +Mrs. O'Brien, on the other hand, seemed surprised and grieved that she +was not cooing herself comfortably to sleep. "Ah, now, baby, what can be +ailin' ye? Can't you see your poor ma is working herself to death to get +your nice clean clothes all ready for you? Now stop your cryin', +darlint, or your poor ma won't be able to iron right, and then what'll +sister Ellen say when she comes in? Ho, ho, Ellen's a Tartar, dear, she +is that! Now you wouldn't want your poor ma to be scolded by Ellen, +would you? Indeed and you wouldn't! So hush now like a good baby, and +don't be always cryin'...." + +Rosie stood it as long as she could, then her heart overflowed in +indignant speech: "Of course she's crying in this horrible hot kitchen! +Why wouldn't she? And they's flies in her mosquito-netting, too!" + +Mrs. O'Brien paused in her ironing to shake her head in mournful +reproach. "Why, Rosie, how you talk! Where else can I put the poor child +but right here? Upstairs in Ellen's room and in my room it's just like +an oven. Jarge's room, downstairs here, is cool enough, but I can't use +that, for Jarge pays good money for it and besides lets Terry sleep with +him. No, no, Rosie, I can't impose on Jarge." + +Rosie's blue eyes snapped. "Well, why can't you put her in the front +room? That's cool." + +"Why, Rosie! You know very well why I can't. Ellen won't let me. When a +girl's a young lady like Ellen, she's got to have a place for gintlemin +callers, and how would she feel, she says, if her gintlemin friends was +to smell Geraldine!" + +"Smell Geraldine! Maggie O'Brien, I'd think you'd be ashamed o' +yourself! Geraldine'd be all right if you changed her and washed her +often enough! You can bet nobody ever smelled Jackie! It's just your own +fault about Geraldine, and you know it is!" + +"Rosie dear, why do you be so hard on your poor ma? I'm sure I wash her +whenever I get the chance. I'm always washin' and ironin' somethin'!" + +"Yes. You're always washing and ironing Ellen's things!" + +"Why, Rosie, how you do be talkin'! When a girl's a young lady she's got +to have a good supply of fresh skirts and clean shirt-waists. Men like +to see their stenogs dressed clean and pretty." + +"Aw, what do I care how men like their stenogs? All I want to say is +this: If you got a baby, you ought to wash it!" + +"Yes, Rosie dear, but what'd you do if you'd been like your poor ma and +had had eight babies? Ah, you don't know how wearyin' it is, Rosie!" + +Rosie rushed out of the kitchen, unable longer to endure the discussion. +But she was back in a few moments, carrying towels and a large white +basin. + +"Why, Rosie dear, are you really goin' to give poor little Geraldine a +nice----" + +"Maggie O'Brien, if you say a single word to me I won't do a thing!" +Rosie glared at her mother threateningly. + +"Mercy on us, Rosie, how you talk! I won't say a word! I promise you on +me oath I'll be as quiet as a mouse! You won't hear a sound out o' me, +will she, baby darlint? I'll be like the deaf and dumb man at the +Museum. He talks with his fingers, Rosie. You'd die laughin' to see +him...." + +At the cooling touch of water, little Geraldine quieted her whimpering +and began to smile wanly. The sight of her neglected body made Rosie's +anger blaze anew. + +"Maggie O'Brien, I don't believe you've touched this baby for a week! +You ought to be ashamed o' yourself! Just look at how chafed she is, and +her body all over prickly heat, too!... Where's the corn-starch?" + +"Rosie dear, I'm awful sorry, but we're out o' corn-starch. I've been +meanin' this two days to have you get some." + +"Well, I'd like to know what I'm going to put on Geraldine!" + +"Couldn't you run over to the grocery now?" + +"No, I can't! It's almost time for my papers. I know what I'll do: I'll +borrow Ellen's talcum." + +"Oh, Rosie, Ellen wouldn't like that!" + +"I don't care if she wouldn't! I guess she helps herself to other +people's things. Besides, if she's so particular about her gentlemen +friends, she ought to be glad to have Geraldine all powdered up with +violet talc." + +"Don't tell me, Rosie, that you mean to be puttin' Geraldine in the +front room! Ellen'll be awful mad!" + +"Let her be! When she begins to ramp around, you just _sick_ her on to +me! I'll be ready for her! Besides, I guess Geraldine's got some rights +in this house!" + +On the floor of the front room, between two chairs, Rosie made a cool +little nest, protected with mosquito-netting. The tired baby sighed and +turned and was asleep in two minutes. + +"You poor little thing!" Rosie murmured as she stood a moment looking +down at the dark circles under Geraldine's closed eyes and at the cruel +prickly heat that was creeping up her neck. "You poor little thing!" + +She went back slowly and thoughtfully to the kitchen. Before her mother +she paused a moment, then looked up defiantly. "Ma, has Geraldine a +clean dress to go out this afternoon in the baby-buggy?" + +Mrs. O'Brien's face began to beam with delight. "Ah, now, do you mean to +say----" + +Rosie cut her off shortly. "Maggie O'Brien, if you say one word to me +I'll drop the whole thing!" + +Mrs. O'Brien stopped her ironing to stretch out a timid, conciliatory +hand. "Rosie dear, why do you always be so sharp to your poor ma? I +won't say a word, I promise I won't. Geraldine's things is at the bottom +of the basket, and the moment I finish this waist of Ellen's I'll get at +them." + +Rosie felt a sudden pang of shame, but a foolish little pride made her +keep on scolding. + +"Well, I got my papers to attend to now, but see that you have those +things ready by the time I get back." + +"Indeed and I will!" Mrs. O'Brien declared with head-shaken emphasis. + +All afternoon on her paper route Rosie thought of poor, neglected little +Geraldine with her chafed body and sad, tired eyes. It wasn't her fault, +poor baby, that she had come eighth in a family when every one was too +busy and hard-worked to pay attention to her.... But it was a +shame--that's what it was! I just tell you when there's a baby around, +some one ought to take proper care of it!... Rosie wanted dreadfully to +fasten blame somewhere, and the person naturally responsible would seem +to be her mother. + +For some reason, though, she couldn't work up much of a case against +Mrs. O'Brien. That poor soul had enough to do, and more than enough, +without ever touching Geraldine. She was not, it is true, the best +manager in the world, and she was dreadfully helpless in the hands of +unscrupulous people like, say, her own daughter Ellen; but when all was +said and done, she was fearfully hard driven, early and late, and never +a day off. And yet how cheerful and uncomplaining she was! How loving +and kind, too, never remembering the cross words you gave her nor the +short, ill-natured answers. No matter how you had been acting, she would +call you "dear" again, the moment you let her.... + +Moreover, even if she did not wash Geraldine as often as she should, +Heaven knows it was not to save herself. Maggie O'Brien would have gone +through fire and flood for the benefit of any of her children, living or +dead, and Rosie knew this. No, no. The things slighted were not slighted +because she was lazy and selfish, but because there were not hours in +the day for her one pair of hands, willing but not very skilled, to do +all there was to do in the crowded little household. + +But if it was once granted that her mother was unable to give Geraldine +proper care, was the child, Rosie asked herself, never to receive such +care? In her heart Rosie knew the one way possible and at last forced +herself to consider it. Could she take this baby and raise it as she had +Jackie?... To have Geraldine for a morning or an afternoon would be a +pleasure; but all day and every day--that was another matter. Rosie +knew how time-consuming it was to be a mother. She knew what it meant to +look after a baby's food and its naps and its baths and its clothes. And +such things were worse now than in Jackie's time. It would never do to +raise another baby in the haphazard fashion Jackie had been raised. The +care of babies was an exact science now. Out of curiosity Rosie and +Janet had once attended a few meetings of the Little Mothers' Class at +the Settlement, so Rosie knew. She sighed. Among other things, she +supposed she would have to become a regular member of that class.... +Dear, dear, what time would be left for all those lovely vacation +picnics which she had been planning for herself and Janet and Jackie?... +Jackie!... She had forgotten: _there wasn't any Jackie now_. + +Rosie stopped, expecting again to be swallowed up in that ancient grief. +But it scarcely touched her. Instead, she found herself looking at +Jackie with the critical eyes of an outsider. He was pretty big. Perhaps +he did not need her any longer. George Riley and Danny Agin and Janet +McFadden and Terry and her mother--hadn't each of them said the same +thing? Rosie had wanted to make herself believe that they were all in +league against her, but deep down in her heart she knew they were not +and had always known it. Now at last she was ready to confess the truth: +Jack did not need her any longer.... And poor little Geraldine did. + +Of course, though, she would never love Geraldine. All the love in her +heart she had poured out upon Jackie, and there simply wasn't any left. +How could there be? It was merely that, in any case, she must fill up +the barren days remaining with something. Why not with Geraldine? + +It would, however, be rather pleasant to see Geraldine grow plump and +happy under her wise care. Ever since hot weather the poor birdie had +not had half enough sleep. Rosie would not be long in remedying that. +And it would surprise her much if she did not have the little chafed +body well within a week.... + +When you take a baby to raise, it's a satisfaction to get a pretty one. +Geraldine promised to be very pretty. Her hair was growing out in loose +little ringlets like Rosie's own, and her eyes, too, were like Rosie's, +only bluer. Perhaps, when Rosie fattened her, she would have a dimple. +Rosie herself had a lovely dimple that was much admired. Let's see: was +it in the right cheek or the left? Rosie made sure by smiling and +feeling for it. Yes, she really hoped that Geraldine would develop a +dimple. Was there anything on earth sweeter than a dimpled baby?... The +baby-buggy was a rickety old affair that had done service for Jackie and +for little Tim that was gone. Rosie did wish they could afford a nice +new up-to-date go-cart. No matter, though. Having any sort of thing to +push about, would give her and Janet all the excuse they needed to +promenade for hours up and down Boulevard Place. + +Not that Rosie was looking forward with any pleasure to her new +undertaking. Heavens, no! She shook her head emphatically. Henceforth it +was duty, not pleasure, to which she would devote her life. You know how +it is in this world: though our hearts, alas, are breaking, we must all +do our duty. + +She found Geraldine refreshed and happy after her long nap. She dressed +her carefully in the clean clothes that were waiting and settled her +comfortably in the old carriage. Then, when they were ready to start, +she turned to her mother. + +"I want to tell you something, Ma: I'm going to take care of Geraldine +this summer. Then maybe you won't have to work so hard." + +Mrs. O'Brien laughed and cried and hugged Rosie to her bosom. + +"Oh, you darlint, you darlint! What's this ye're tellin' me!... Ah, +Rosie, if I do say it, ye're the best child that ever stood in shoes! +Geraldine darlint, do ye hear what sister Rosie says?" + +Mrs. O'Brien paused a moment, then spoke more quietly: "And, Rosie dear, +I've been sorry about this Jackie business--I have that. It's a turrible +thing when a little mother hen has only one chick, to have that chick +turn out a goslin'! But take me word for it, Rosie, Geraldine'll niver +disapp'int ye so. Ye'll niver take to water, will ye, baby dear?" + +Rosie choked a little. "I--I guess we better be going. We got to stop +for Janet." + +They started off, and Mrs. O'Brien, in a fresh ecstasy of delight, +called after them: "Ah, look at the blissed infant, as happy as a lamb +with two mothers!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +JANET'S AUNT KITTY + + +Janet McFadden, after one searching look in Rosie's face, rushed forward +eagerly. + +"I'm so glad to see you! Where have you been all this time?" + +Rosie dimpled with pleasure. Wasn't it sweet of Janet not to refer to +the coldness of their last meeting? That was Janet right straight +through: always ready to be insulted on the first provocation, but just +as ready, once she knew you still loved her, to let bygones be bygones. + +"Well, you see, Janet, Jackie's been sick. No, not really sick, but +sore. His back was all sunburnt. He'd been in swimming for the first +time. You know boys always go in swimming and get sunburnt the first +day. But he's all right now and I don't have to bother about him any +more." + +Janet blinked in surprise and started to say something when the +expression on Rosie's face checked her. She paused, then exclaimed, +rather fatuously: "How sweet Geraldine looks!" + +"Doesn't she!" Rosie spoke enthusiastically. "Say, Janet, don't you +think she's a nice baby?" + +"I do indeed!" Janet wagged her head impressively. "You know yourself I +always did think she was a nice baby and I never could make out why you +didn't like her more." + +"Janet McFadden, how you talk! Of course I like Geraldine! I love her!" +Rosie bounced the baby-carriage vigorously and made direct appeal to +Geraldine herself: "Doesn't sister Rosie love her own baby? Of course +she does! And she's going to take care of her all summer, isn't she? +because ma's too busy." + +"Why, Rosie!" Janet began. + +Rosie faced square about and with one look challenged Janet to show +further surprise. + +"Why--why, isn't that nice!" Janet murmured meekly. + +"Of course it's nice and we're going to Boulevard Place every afternoon, +aren't we, Geraldine? We're going there now and Janet can come with us +if she wants to." + +Janet wanted to, but she had to refuse. "I can't today, Rosie. I've got +to help my mother. But tomorrow afternoon--will you stop for me then? +I'll expect you." + +In this way friendship was restored. Not having to bear the strain of an +insistent questioning from Janet, its restoration was simple. Something +had occurred to change Rosie's attitude in regard to her small brother +and sister and upon this something she was not disposed, evidently, to +be communicative. Well, Janet was not inquisitive. Besides, even if +this subject of conversation was taboo, conversation was not in any +danger of early extinction. When together, Janet and Rosie always +talked--not perfunctorily, either, but with much emphasis and many +headshakings. Goodness me, they never stopped talking! After only a few +hours' separation, each had a hundred things to tell the other. By the +very next day Janet had a bit of news, that was to furnish them an +exciting topic for weeks to come. + +When Rosie called for Janet the following afternoon, her knock was +answered by Tom Sullivan, who instantly blushed a glowing crimson and +with difficulty stammered: "Yes, Janet's home. Come on in." + +Rosie found Janet and her mother entertaining Mrs. Sullivan, who was +Dave McFadden's sister and therefore Janet's aunt. + +At sight of Rosie, Mrs. Sullivan exclaimed gushingly: "If there ain't +Rosie O'Brien! You sweet thing! Come right here and kiss me!" + +Rosie had to submit to the caress although she knew it was intended as a +slight to Janet. That was one of Aunt Kitty Sullivan's little ways. Aunt +Kitty was a fat, smiling, middle-aged woman who was going through life +under the delusion that her face still retained the empty prettiness of +its youth. + +"I was just a-saying to Janet," Aunt Kitty began, "that she ought to be +making herself more attractive. As long as she goes about looking like +a scarecrow, she never will have a beau! Ain't that right, Rosie?" + +Aunt Kitty smiled upon Rosie that meaning smile with which one conscious +beauty appeals to another. Rosie did not respond to it. From the bottom +of her heart she despised Aunt Kitty for the persistence with which she +tormented Janet. When Rosie came in her tirade must have been going on +for some time, for Janet looked tense and angry and her mother badly +flustered. + +Mrs. McFadden, hard-worked and worn and shabby, could not openly resent +her sister-in-law's little pleasantries, for Kitty Sullivan was the +prosperous member of the family. The chance that had given her a sober, +frugal, industrious husband had also given her a certain moral +superiority over all women whose husbands were not sober or frugal or +industrious. Mrs. McFadden did not question this superiority; she +accepted it humbly. Far be it from her, poor drudge that she was, to +dispute the words of a woman who could afford good clothes and a weekly +ticket to the matinée. So all she said now in Janet's defence was: + +"Kitty, I wish you wouldn't be putting such notions into Janet's head. +She's too young to have beaux." + +"Too young!" scoffed Mrs. Sullivan. "I guess I begun havin' beaux when I +was a good deal younger than Janet is now! Why, nowadays a girl can't +begin too young havin' beaux, or the first thing she knows she's an old +maid! Ain't that right, Rosie?" + +Rosie turned her head away, mumbling some unintelligible answer. Tom, +blushing until his freckles were all hidden, came to her rescue. + +"Aw, now, Ma, why can't you let up on Janet? She ain't done nuthin' to +you!" + +Mrs. Sullivan looked at her son reprovingly. "Tom Sullivan, you just +mind your own business! What I'm saying is for Janet's own good. And I +must say, Mary McFadden, it's your fault, too. You ought to be dressing +Janet better now that she's getting big." + +Mrs. McFadden sighed apologetically. "I'm sure I dress her as well as I +can, Kitty." + +"Well, then, all I got to say is you must be a mighty poor manager, with +Dave making good money and you yourself working every day!" As she +finished, Mrs. Sullivan smiled and dimpled with all the malicious +triumph of a precocious child. + +Rosie felt shamed and troubled. To Mrs. Sullivan's taunt there was one +answer that everybody present knew, but that neither Mary McFadden nor +Janet would ever give, and that Rosie, as an outsider, could not give. +But even so, Mrs. Sullivan was not to go unanswered. Tom, blushing with +mortification, jumped to his feet. + +"Ma, you're the limit! You ought to be ashamed o' yourself! Uncle Dave +makes good money, does he? Yes, and he boozes every cent of it, and +Aunt Mary here has got to work like a nigger to pay the rent and keep +herself and Janet, and you know it, too." + +"Tom Sullivan, you shut up!" Mrs. Sullivan's voice rose to an angry +scream. "How dare you interrupt me! You deserve a good thrashing, you +do, and you're goin' to get it, too, as soon as your father comes +home!... Dave boozes, does he? Well, all I got to say is this: he never +boozed before he got married, and if he boozes now it's a mighty queer +thing!" + +Rosie stood up to go. "Say, Janet, you promised to come with me this +afternoon. Get your hat." + +"Yes," advised Mrs. Sullivan; "put on that old black sailor hat that +makes you look like a guy. Mary McFadden, if I had a girl I wouldn't let +her out on the street in a hat like that!" + +Rosie and Janet started off and Tom called after them: "Wait a minute! +I'll come, too!" + +"No, you don't!" his mother ordered. "You stay right where you are! You +don't get out o' my sight till I hand you over to your dad!" + +Once safe on the street, Rosie put a sympathetic arm about Janet's +shoulder. "Even if she is your aunt, Janet, I think she's low-down and I +hate her!" + +"Pooh!" Janet tossed her head in fine scorn. "In my opinion she ain't +worth hating! She ain't nuthin'! I consider her beneath my contemp'! +The truth is, Rosie, I don't mind her buzzin' around any more than I +do a fly! She'd die if she didn't talk; so I say let her talk. If she +couldn't she'd probably do something worse. My mother feels the same +way. We get tired of her sometimes, but we stand her because she's my +dad's own sister.... Of course, though, some of the things she says is +perfectly true. I ain't pretty. You are, Rosie, but I ain't and I know +it, and that's all there is about it." + +Janet spread out her hands in simple candour and glanced at her friend. +Then, involuntarily, she gave a little sigh. It was not a sigh of envy. +She really did accept as a matter of fact that she herself was not +pretty and that Rosie was. Where Rosie was plump and rounded and +graceful, Janet knew that she was flat and long and lanky. Her arms were +long, her fingers were long, her face was long. Her dark hair, too, was +long, but with nothing in texture or colour to recommend it. She wore it +pulled straight from her forehead and hanging behind in two stiff +plaits. + +With her old black hat, her colourless face, her faded clothes, she gave +the impression of a very shabby, serious little person. And she was +both. Rosie, on the other hand, though as poorly dressed, seemed +anything but shabby and serious, for she was all life and colour, like +some little roadside flower, which, in spite of dusty leaves, raises +aloft a bright, fresh bloom. + +Janet might bravely dismiss her aunt with a wave of the hand, but Rosie +insisted upon repeating herself. + +"I don't care what you say, Janet, I think she's low-down the way she +talks to you and your mother! Now Tom's nice. That was fine the way he +spoke up. You don't think his father'll lick him, do you?" + +"Uncle Matt?" Janet laughed. "Nev-er! Uncle Matt's just crazy about Tom. +They're like two kids when they're together. And that reminds me, +Rosie--goodness me, I was forgetting all about it!" Janet paused to give +full flavour to her bit of news. "What Tom came over for this afternoon +was to tell me that Uncle Matt has promised to give him and me tickets +for the Traction Boys' Picnic--you know it's coming in two weeks +now--and Tom says he's going to try to beg another ticket for you!" + +"Is he really, Janet? Now isn't he just too kind!" + +"Kind? I should say he is! He's bashful, of course, and people laugh at +him because he's got red hair, but he's just as generous as he can be. +You remember last year I went with him, too. Why, do you know, last year +his father had six customers who bought their tickets and then turned +right around and said: 'But we can't go, so you just give these tickets +to some one who can.' Uncle Matt had enough tickets for the whole family +and two more besides. He sold those two and give us all ice-cream sodas +on them." + +"Did he really, Janet! That just proves what I always say: in some ways +I'd much rather have my father be a conductor than a motorman. A +motorman never gets a chance at a ticket. I'm glad Jarge Riley's a +conductor. I bet he sells a good many, don't you?" + +"Of course he will, Rosie! I hadn't thought of Jarge. If a customer +gives Jarge back a ticket, of course he'll pass it on to you--I know he +will. Gee, Rosie, you're lucky to have a fella like Jarge Riley boarding +with you. He sure is a dandy." + +To this last Rosie agreed readily enough but on the priority of her +claim to any tickets she set Janet right. "If he gets only a couple, +he'll give Ellen first chance." + +Janet sighed. "Say, Rosie, is he still dead gone on Ellen?" + +Rosie sighed, too, and nodded. "Ain't it funny with a fella that's got +so much sense about other things?" + +Janet sighed again. "I don't like to say anything against Ellen, because +she's your sister, but, as you say yourself, it certainly is funny." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +ROSIE RECEIVES AN INVITATION + + +Rosie did not see George that night, but she brought up the subject next +day at dinner. It was Sunday, so the whole family was assembled. + +"Are you selling many tickets, Jarge?" + +"Yes, a good many, and one of my customers give me back two." + +"Oh, Jarge, did he really? What are you going to do with them?" + +George glanced timidly in the direction of Ellen. It was plain at once +what he wanted to do with them. It was also plain that Ellen was not +going to give him much encouragement. To get the support of the family, +George made his invitation public. "I was hoping that Ellen would like +to go with me." + +Ellen glanced up languidly. "Thanks, Mr. Riley, but I don't see how I +can." + +George, swallowing hard, forced out the question: "Why not?" + +"Well, if you insist on knowing, it's this: I don't care to make a guy +o' myself going out with a fella that don't come up much above my +shoulder." + +Mrs. O'Brien threw up astonished hands and cried out: "Fie on you, +Ellen, fie, for sayin' such a thing!" + +Rosie blazed and spluttered with indignation: "Ellen O'Brien, you ought +to be ashamed o' yourself to talk like that to a nice fella like Jarge +Riley! If you had any sense you'd know that he's worth a whole cart-load +of the dudes that you and Hattie Graydon run after!" + +Rosie got up from her chair and, stepping over to George's place, +slipped her arm about his embarrassed neck. Then she put her cheek +against his. "Don't you care what that old Ellen says, Jarge. You're not +little at all! You're plenty big enough! Besides, little men are much +nicer!" + +Ellen laughed maliciously. "It's a pity George don't ask you." + +The red again surged up George's neck; he gulped; sent one hurt glance +in Ellen's direction, then spoke to Rosie: "Rosie, I've got tickets for +the Traction Boys' Picnic and I'd love like anything to take you. Have +you got anything else on for Friday night next week?" + +"Friday night, did you say, Jarge? Why, for Friday night they ain't +nuthin' 'd suit me better! Thanks ever so much!" + +Rosie, still behind George's chair, shot an annihilating glance at +Ellen. That young woman, a trifle piqued perhaps but still amused, +tossed her head and laughed. + +"Ma, I don't think it's right the way Rosie's getting a grown-up fella +and me not even engaged yet! I don't think you ought to allow it!" + +"Ellen, Ellen, your tongue's entirely too long!" Mrs. O'Brien looked at +her reprovingly, but Ellen, in a sudden change of mood, heeded her not. +She was gazing at Rosie with speculative eyes. When she spoke, it was in +a tone from which all banter and ill-humour had vanished. + +"Ma, if Rosie does go with George Riley, there's just one thing: she's +got to have a new dress. The poor kid hasn't a stitch to her back. She +ought to have a little pink dimity. She's just sweet in pink. Lucky, +too, there's a sale on tomorrow at the Big Store. So you needn't say a +word--I'm going to get her something. And I'll trim her a hat, too." + +Mrs. O'Brien protested that she hadn't the price of a ten-cent hat, let +alone a dress, but Ellen, as usual, was firm, and Rosie knew that she +was now destined to go to the picnic prettily costumed. Rosie would have +liked to nurse a while longer her indignation against Ellen but, as +Ellen was the only person in the house who knew how to trim a hat out of +little or nothing and how to whip together a pretty little dress, Rosie +was forced to change her manner of open hostility to one of a more +friendly reserve. + +On the whole Rosie was jubilant. "I'm sure I don't know why it is," she +said to Janet McFadden, "but people are pretty nice to me, aren't they?" + +"Nice?" echoed Janet with long-drawn emphasis. "Well, I should think +they are!... Say, Rosie, listen:"--Janet paused a moment--"do you think +Tom and me and you and Jarge could all go together? Do you think Jarge'd +mind?" + +Rosie considered the request carefully before answering. Then she spoke +as kindly as she could: "I'm sure I don't know, Janet. Perhaps he'd like +it all right, but, then again, perhaps he wouldn't. Don't you know, men +are so queer nowadays. Anyway, though, I tell you what: I'll ask him." + +"Will you, Rosie?" Janet's gratitude was almost pathetic. + +Later, in presenting the case to George himself, Rosie's manner lost its +air of Lady Bountiful, and she pleaded Janet's cause with an earnestness +for which Janet would have worshipped her. + +"Aw, now, Jarge, please! Poor Janet won't be in our way and she would +love to be with us. Tom Sullivan don't talk much and he's got red hair, +but he's awful nice, really he is. I told you he was trying to get me a +ticket before you invited me. And besides, Jarge, if we get tired of +them we can give them the slip for a little while." + +As soon as Rosie paused for breath, George said: "Of course we'll let +Janet and Tom Sullivan come with us if you want them. This is to be your +party and you're to have things your own way." + +Rosie looked her adoration. "Oh, Jarge, you're just too kind to me, +really you are!" + +The new dress was a great success. It was a little rosebud dimity, pink +and pale green, which Ellen designed in pretty summer fashion to make +the most of Rosie's well-turned little arms and graceful neck. On a +ten-cent bargain counter Ellen had found a hat of yellow straw which was +just the thing to shape into a little bonnet and trim with a wreath of +pink rosebuds and two soft green streamers which hung down on either +side. + +Ellen planned and worked and was happier than Rosie herself over each +new effect. Mrs. O'Brien, hovering about, beamed with approval. + +"Ellen's an artist with her needle," she declared over and over again. +"She is indeed. How she does remind me of me own poor dead sister +Birdie! There was a milliner in Dublin would have give her two eyes to +get Birdie into her shop." + +Mrs. O'Brien was right. Ellen was an artist with her needle and took all +an artist's joy in her own creation. As she worked on Rosie's costume, +she showed none of that impatient, overbearing selfishness which marked +her so disagreeably at other times, but was gentle, frank, and +affectionate. Once when she pricked Rosie's shoulders by accident she +kissed the hurt away, and Rosie, surprised and touched, threw her arms +impulsively about her neck. + +"Why can't you always be like this to me, Ellen? I'd just love you +dearly if you were." + +Ellen laughed a little shamefacedly. "Ain't I nice all the time, Rosie? +Well, I'm afraid it's that old business college. It gets on my nerves. +I suppose I ought to be studying now, but I'm not going to. I'm not +going to stop until I finish this for you." + +On the afternoon of the picnic, Ellen was so proud of Rosie's appearance +that for once she forgot her haughtiness to George Riley. "Now tell the +truth, George, aren't you glad it's Rosie instead of me?" + +George gave Ellen one sick look, gulped, then said bravely: "Rosie sure +is mighty pretty!" + +"Pretty? I should say she is! See her now. Don't she look like a little +flower--a sweet-pea or something? And do you know, George, if I was to +dress that way, with my size and my height, I'd look like a guy! Yes, I +would." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE TRACTION BOYS' PICNIC + + +They started off in time to make the half-past-five boat. George was at +his dressiest, so close-shaven that he looked almost skinned and +resplendent in new tan shoes, green socks, a red tie, and a pink shirt. +It was a striking combination of colour and one that made Ellen clutch +at her mother in despair. George carried a shoe-box of sandwiches, for +Rosie, always a thrifty little housewife, insisted that whatever money +they had to spend was not going for the commonplace necessaries of life. + +Janet McFadden and Tom Sullivan, with a similar shoe-box, were waiting +for them at the corner. Janet, in her old black sailor hat, looked +dreadfully neat and clean, but for some reason even dingier than usual. +It was Janet's first view of Rosie's finery. Shaking her head slowly, +she gazed at Rosie several moments before she spoke. Then she said: + +"Well, Rosie O'Brien, I must say you certainly do look elegant!" + +Tom Sullivan was so flustered by the close vision of Rosie's loveliness +that, when he opened his mouth to say something, he could only splutter +unintelligibly and then blush furiously at his own embarrassment. + +It is surprising, when one stops to think about it, how delightful a +mere street-car ride downtown really is. As Rosie sat there with her +plain but faithful friend on one side--hereafter she must always try to +be especially kind and gentle to Janet--and on the other her sporty, +grown-up escort, she had one of those rare moments of perfect content +and happiness. Old gentlemen smiled at her absent-mindedly as she +brushed aside the green streamers which the wind was forever blowing +across her face; young girls examined her critically; a mother across +the way distracted the attention of a weeping child by pointing her +finger and saying: "Oh, Eddy, look over there at that pretty little +girl! She's lookin' straight at you, and what'll she say if she sees you +cryin'!"... It was really a lovely, lovely world, and Rosie honestly and +truly hoped that everybody in it was happy. + +They reached the boat at that delightful moment when the bell is ringing +and the deckhands are threatening to pull in the gang-plank in spite of +the rushing crowds still arriving. By the time they had pushed their way +to the upper deck, the gang-plank was in, the band was striking up a gay +march, and with a lurch and a turn the _Island Princess_ was off. + +"O-oh!" murmured Rosie happily, and Janet demanded tensely, of no one in +particular: "Isn't this just grand!" + +Mothers and wives bustled about to get folding chairs and campstools, +but the young folk, scorning so soon to sit down, promenaded arm in arm. +Tucking Rosie's hand under his elbow, George joined the ranks of the +promenaders, and Janet and Tom Sullivan followed his lead at a +respectful distance. + +At the stern, seated off by themselves, was a group of picnickers who +hailed George as an old friend and waved at him inviting arms and +handkerchiefs. + +"Let's go over and say 'Howdy,'" George suggested. + +There were some ten of them, girls and young fellows about George's own +age. George took off his hat to them all and, with a flourish, presented +Rosie. + +"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you my lady friend, Miss +Rosie O'Brien. Rosie, won't you shake hands with my friend, Mr. +Callahan, and Miss Higgins, and Miss McCarthy, and Miss Mahony, ..." + +Rosie, feeling eighteen years old and perfectly beautiful, went the +rounds to an enchanting chorus of, "Pleased to know you, Miss O'Brien," +"You sweet little thing!" "Excuse me, Miss Rosie, but I must say George +Riley knows how to pick out a pretty girl!..." + +George then presented Janet, and Janet, too, went the rounds, looking +like a sleep-walker with tight-set muscles and staring eyes. + +"And this," concluded George, giving Tom Sullivan a little push, "is +Matt Sullivan's boy. You fellows all know Matt--he's on the East End +run." + +With blinking eyes and a crimson embarrassment that mounted to ears and +scalp, Tom passed about a nerveless, sodden hand. + +After a few more pleasantries, George, gathering together his forces, +flourished his hat and said: "Well, so long, friends! See you later." + +"Weren't they nice!" Rosie remarked enthusiastically, and Janet, in +humble gratitude, said: "That was awful kind of you, Mr. Riley, +introducing Tom and me." + +"Kind nuthin'!" George declared. "Aren't you my friends, I'd like to +know? Aren't all Rosie's friends my friends?" + +Unable to express in words how deeply moved she was by the loftiness and +nobility of this sentiment, Janet could only look at Rosie, sigh +gloomily, and shake her head. + +They ate their little picnic supper as soon as they landed, topped off +with ice-cream, and then, unencumbered with shoe-boxes, sought out the +allurements of sideshows, aërial and subterranean thrillers, and dancing +pavilion. Rosie insisted that they go into nothing that cost over ten +cents. By adopting this principle and making frequent excursions to the +dancing pavilion, which was free, they were so well able to husband +their resources that George's two dollars and Tom Sullivan's fifty cents +carried them through the evening. + +It seemed to Rosie she had never enjoyed so perfect a picnic. All the +thrillers really thrilled. Capitana, the giantess snake-charmer, was +actually a giantess, and the snakes she wound about her fat neck were +fully as long and as spotted and as green as the posters made out. And +so on through everything they tried. + +"I've never had such a good time in my life!" Rosie declared, as they +hurried off to the ten-o'clock boat. + +"Me, too!" gasped Janet in solemn, sepulchral tones. + +Looking at the strained expression of happiness on Janet's face, Rosie +suddenly thought of something new that would fittingly crown the day's +adventures. Out of her own abundance she would give Janet another crumb +that would make her eternally grateful. + +"Say, Jarge," she whispered coaxingly, "will you do something for me?" + +George looked down at her indulgently. "Of course I will. Anything you +want." + +"Well then, listen, Jarge: Will you take Janet all the way home and be +real nice to her and pretend she's your girl and pet her real, real +hard. Nobody ever pets Janet, and she never has a good time except when +she's with me. And I'll take Tom Sullivan." + +George laughed a good-natured "All right," and Rosie, turning around, +said to Janet: "Jarge don't want me any more, do you, Jarge? He wants +you, Janet, don't you, Jarge, want Janet? So will you let Tom Sullivan +take me?" + +"Oh, Rosie!" Janet threw incredulous eyes to heaven and clutched her +hands together in a joy that was serious as grief. + +Rosie pushed her up to George and George, capturing her cold fingers, +drew them through his arm. Then Rosie, glowing all over in virtuous +self-approval, dropped behind with Tom Sullivan. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE LOAN OF A GENTLEMAN FRIEND + + +The wives and mothers, with sleepy, crying children, cluttered up the +lower decks. The young people by some common instinct seemed all to be +drawn to the quiet and moonlight of the upper deck. There Rosie's party +found them, a thousand couples more or less, each couple sitting +somewhat apart from its neighbours, but frightfully close to itself. + +"I suppose they're all engaged," Rosie remarked to Tom Sullivan, and +even in the moonlight Tom blushed furiously. + +George and Janet found the unoccupied half of a deck bench, not too far +from the rail, and Rosie and Tom seated themselves on campstools some +distance behind. They were pretty far in on deck and so could see very +little beyond the backs of the great half circle of couples. But backs, +in their way, are very expressive, and Rosie soon found herself deeply +interested in the romances of which these various backs were soon giving +most unmistakable hints. Every couple that sat down seemed to go through +precisely the same emotional experience. A properly equipped +statistician could soon have reduced the whole thing to a matter of +minutes and seconds. + +Take what would be an average couple: They seat themselves like ordinary +people in their right minds and, for a moment, that is what you suppose +they really are. But only for a moment. Although they may be the only +couple on the bench, almost immediately you see them crowding against +each other as if to make room for a fat lady with a baby. Then to get +more room the man drops his arm--the arm next the girl--over the back of +the bench, where it lies a few moments lifeless and inert. The position +is uncomfortable, evidently, for soon he tries to bring it back. Too +late. The invisible fat lady with the baby has, in the meantime, wedged +the girl right under the man's shoulder, and his arm and hand, in +circling back, circle naturally about her. She, poor little soul, seems +not to know what has happened. Her tired head sinks like a weary +bird--sinks on his breast. She sleeps. At any rate, she looks like it. +Then she wakes. She wakes gradually. Her profile slowly rises and, as it +rises, lo! his descends until--until--Well, you know what always occurs +when his profile meets her profile full-face. + +Every time they saw it happen, Rosie held her breath for a moment, then +murmured: "They must be engaged, too!" + +Tom Sullivan stood it as long as he could, then burst out: "Aw, go on! +You don't have to be engaged to kiss!" + +Rosie looked at him, scandalized and shocked. "Why, Tom Sullivan, how +you talk! You ought to be ashamed o' yourself!" + +"Well, you don't!" Tom insisted doggedly. + +Rosie, drawing herself away from a person of such free-and-easy morals, +returned to the backs of the last couple to see whether their little +drama had completed itself. As she looked, the final act opened. The man +whispered something--from what happened when all the other men had +whispered something, Rosie decided he must be asking the girl if she +were chilly. She, like all others before her, presumably was, for the +man took off half his coat, the half near her, and drew it around her +shoulders. What became of his shirt-sleeved arm, or what, in fact, +thereafter became of the rest of both of them, no mere onlooker could +ever know. The half-coat, raising high its collar, served as an +effectual screen against the gaze of a curious world, and the only thing +left for a student of human nature was to hunt a new couple. + +One of the marvels of a picnic boat is that there are always new +couples. Rosie found one immediately and was already engrossed in it +when Tom Sullivan, clutching her excitedly, cried out: + +"Look! Look! Didn't I tell you!" + +Rosie looked, and what she saw seemed for a moment to make her heart +stop. George Riley and Janet McFadden--think of it! How long the +exhibit had been going on Rosie knew not, but Tom Sullivan had +discovered them just as Janet's profile was rising and George's +descending. In another instant---- + +"There!" shouted Tom Sullivan in triumph. "Didn't I tell you so! Now you +can't say they're engaged!" + +Rosie stood up hurriedly. + +"This is a perfectly horrid boat and I wish I could get off! And I tell +you one thing, Tom Sullivan: I'm going downstairs. I won't stay up here +any longer. It's disgraceful, that's what it is!" + +"Aw, don't go down!" Tom begged. "It's fun up here." + +But Rosie was already started and Tom had to follow. + +"Say, Rosie," he chuckled confidentially over her shoulder as she +climbed down to the next deck, "did you see old Janet? Gee! I bet it was +the first time a fella ever kissed her!" + +Had Rosie seen old Janet? Yes, Rosie had, and the mere thought of the +perfidious creature sent Rosie hot and cold by turns. Oh, to think of +it! After all she had done for Janet out of the innocent kindness of her +heart, to have Janet face about and treat her so! Why, she was nothing +but a thief, a brazen thief!... + +It was true that, in a sense, George did not belong to Rosie: he +belonged to Ellen O'Brien if Ellen would once make up her mind to +possess him; but as between Rosie and Janet he certainly belonged to +Rosie. And Janet knew it, too! And he knew it! Oh, what a weak character +his was, thus to be tempted by the first fair face! Fair face, indeed! +The first ugly face! Yes, ugly! Not even her own mother could call Janet +anything else! + +Rosie found uncomfortable places for herself and Tom among the wives and +mothers who, heavy-eyed and dishevelled, were waiting impatiently to +land. Shining over them was no glamour of moonlight. They were plain, +homely, hard-worked women--exactly what Janet McFadden would be some +day, if George Riley had but sense enough to know it. Rosie picked out +the homeliest of them all and wished she had George down beside her so +that she could say to him: + +"Do you see that woman? Well, that's what your dear Janet's going to +look like when she grows up!" + +Rosie had a mental picture of herself at that same future period, with +golden hair and lovely clothes and heaps and heaps of beautiful jewels. +If she could only give George a glimpse of the great contrast which in a +few years there would be between her and Janet, then he'd feel sorry! +He'd probably get down on his knees and beg her pardon and she, flipping +back some expensive lace from her wrist, would smile at him kindly and +drawl out: + +"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Riley. I never think of you any more. You +know how it is when a person has so many wealthy friends. I'm sorry, but +I got to go now, for my automobile is waiting. Good-bye...." + +But meanwhile the moonlight was still shining on the upper deck and +Rosie felt perfectly sure that, by this time, Janet was tucked away in +George's coat. Rosie stood the suspense as long as she could, then +jumped up to investigate. + +"You wait here for me, Tom," she ordered; "I'll be back in just a +minute." + +She hurried off to the upper deck and, of course, found conditions +exactly as she knew they would be. The only thing that showed above +George's coat collar was the tilted edge of Janet's old black sailor +hat. Rosie stepped up quite close to the guilty pair and cleared her +throat, but they heeded her not. + +"All right!" Rosie warned them in her own mind. "Just keep on and you'll +both be sorry some day!" + +Then she told herself for the fiftieth time what a fool she had been, +and she made a mighty vow never again to loan a gentleman friend to any +one whomsoever. + +When she got back to Tom Sullivan, Tom had a bag of peanuts which he +offered her at once. "You like peanuts, don't you, Rosie? It's my last +nickel, except carfare. Aw, go on, take some." + +Not to seem unfriendly, Rosie accepted a handful. Crunching the shells +between her fingers comforted her a little. It was the sort of treatment +she would like to give some people--at any rate, it was the kind they +deserved. She didn't exactly name the peanuts, but she gave them +initials. To the small ones she gave the initial _J_, to the large ones +G. + +"Do you suppose those two are spoonin' up there yet?" Tom asked finally. + +"What two?" + +"Why, George Riley and Janet." And Tom Sullivan, who was supposed to be +bashful, looked at Rosie with a meaning smile. + +Rosie returned the glance with fire and daggers. "Don't you move your +old chair any closer to me, Tom Sullivan!" + +"Aw, now, Rosie----" Tom began, but Rosie cut him short, for the +landing-bell was sounding and it was time for them to pick up their +disreputable friends. + +George and Janet were all for acting as if nothing unusual had happened, +and Rosie scorned them afresh for the useless hypocrisy. + +The journey home was stupid and unpleasant. The cars were crowded and +people were ill-natured and rude and everything in general was horrid. +The wind kept blowing Rosie's streamers into her eyes until she was +ready to tear them off.... Would they never get home? + +Janet McFadden, her dull black eyes fixed in a dream, heeded nothing. +But at the corner where their ways parted Rosie saw to it that she +heard something. When Janet offered farewells, Rosie called out with +unmistakable emphasis: + +"Good-night, _Tom!_ I've had a very pleasant time with _you!_" + +Like Janet, George Riley seemed to think that everything was as before. +He himself was quiet, with the drowsy languor that follows an evening's +excitement, and he seemed to be attributing Rosie's silence to the same +cause. + +When they got home, Rosie tried to show him his mistake. The gas in the +little hallway was burning low, and George turned it high to light Rosie +upstairs. + +Rosie started off without a word. + +"Aren't you going to kiss me good-night, Rosie?" + +At that Rosie turned slowly about and gazed down upon him with all the +hauteur of an offended queen. "There's just one thing I want to tell +you, Jarge Riley: because you kiss Janet McFadden, you needn't think you +can kiss _any_ girl!" + +"Why, Rosie!" George began. But Rosie was already gone. + +[Illustration: "Because you kiss Janet McFadden, you needn't think you +can kiss _any_ girl."] + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +JANET EXPLAINS + + +By ten o'clock next morning Janet McFadden was at the door asking for +Rosie. Rosie did not, of course, ever care to see Janet again, but as +she had come Rosie could scarcely deny herself. + +She found her one-time friend looking pinched and +worried--conscience-stricken, no doubt--and little wonder. + +"I'm going to the grocery, Janet. Do you want to come with me?" + +Hardly outside the gate, Janet began: "You're not mad at me, Rosie, are +you?" + +"Mad?" Rosie spoke the word as if it were one with which she was +unfamiliar. + +"I didn't think you'd care, Rosie, honest I didn't. I thought you'd +understand." + +"Understand what?" There was a certain coldness in the tone of Rosie's +inquiry, and Janet, feeling it, seemed ready to wring her hands in +despair. + +"Why, Rosie, all we talked about was you--honest it was! Jarge said you +were just like his own little sister to him, and I told him I loved you +more than I would my own sister if I had one." + +"Huh!" Rosie grunted, recalling the tilt of Janet's black sailor hat +over George's shoulder. It had looked then as if they were talking about +her, hadn't it now? + +"Honest, Rosie!" + +"Yes, of course. I suppose now you were talking about me when you----" +Rosie pursed her lips and Janet, understanding her meaning, blushed +guiltily. + +"Aw, now, Rosie, listen: all I wanted was to have Tom Sullivan see." + +"Well, he saw all right. So did I. So did everybody. And it was +disgraceful, too!" + +Janet groped helplessly about for words. "I don't exactly mean on +account of Tom himself." + +"Oh!" + +"Please, Rosie," Janet begged; "don't talk to me that way.... You know +Tom's mother, my Aunt Kitty. You know the way she makes fun of me +because I'm ugly and lanky. She's always saying that I'm an old maid +already and that I'll never get a boy to look at me. So I just wanted +her to hear about a nice fella like Jarge Riley hugging me and kissing +me." + +Rosie looked at Janet in astonishment. She had certainly expected Janet +to make up a better story than that. + +"Well, I must say, Janet McFadden, this is news to me! Since when have +you got so particular about what your Aunt Kitty thinks or doesn't +think? I always supposed she was beneath your contemp'." + +"No, no, Rosie, it isn't that! I don't care what she thinks or what she +says either, if only she wouldn't go blabbing it around everywhere!" +With a sudden gust of passion, Janet clenched her hands and breathed +hard. "Oh, how I hate her!" + +Rosie had nothing to say and, after a pause, Janet continued more +quietly: + +"It's this way, Rosie: You know my old man. He's all right except +sometimes when he comes home not quite himself. You know what I mean." + +Yes, Rosie knew. In fact, like the rest of the world, she knew a great +deal more than Janet supposed about Dave McFadden's drunken abuse of his +wife and child. + +"He's all right when he's straight, Rosie, honest he is." + +Never before had Janet confessed in words, even to Rosie, that her +father wasn't always sober. It was the fiction of life that she +struggled most valiantly to maintain that this same father was the best +and noblest of his kind. Poor Janet! In spite of herself Rosie +experienced a pang of the old pity which thought of Janet's hard life +always excited. But Janet was not striving to appeal to her thus. Slowly +and painfully she was forcing herself to lay bare the little tragedy +that shadowed her days.... + +"When he comes home that way he says awful things to me. He says I got a +face like a horse and arms as long as a monkey's. He'd never think of +things like that if it wasn't for Aunt Kitty. You know he thinks +everything Aunt Kitty says is wonderful because she's supposed to be the +bright one of the family and used to be pretty. And, Rosie, she ain't +got a bit o' sense. All she can do is make people laugh by making fun of +somebody. She never cares how much she hurts any one's feelings. I--I +know I'm ugly, but--can I help it?..." Janet's face was quivering and +her eyes were swimming in tears. "I don't see why Aunt Kitty's got to +talk about it, do you? Even if I am ugly, I guess--I guess I got +feelings like anybody else.... It's only when dad's full that he starts +in on it and begins to yell around until everybody in the building hears +him. And I know just as well he'd never think of it if only Aunt Kitty +would let up on me a little. So I thought---- Oh, you understand now, +don't you, Rosie? That's the reason I did it, honest it is. You believe +me, Rosie, don't you?" + +Believe her? Who wouldn't believe her? Long before she had finished +speaking, the citadel of Rosie's affections had been stormed and retaken +and Rosie, abject and conquered, was ready to cry for mercy. + +"And when I told Jarge Riley about it," Janet continued, "he was just as +nice. He pretended he wanted to kiss me anyhow, but he didn't, Rosie, +honest he didn't. It was only because I was your friend that he wanted +to be nice to me...." + +Of course, of course. At last Rosie was seeing things as they really +were, and seeing them thus made her heartsick when she remembered how +she had spoken to kind old George Riley. How could she ever put herself +right with him?... She would be carrying his supper up to the cars at +six o'clock. There would be only an instant of time, but an instant +would be enough for her to say: "Oh, Jarge, I've just been happy all day +long thinking about the good time you gave me yesterday! Me and Janet +have been talking about it. Thanks, thanks so much!" And George Riley, +if she knew him at all, instead of recalling her foolish words of last +night, would grin all over and gasp out: "Aw, Rosie, that wasn't nuthin' +at all!" That was the sort of fellow George was!... + +"But listen here, Rosie," Janet's voice was continuing in tones of +humble entreaty; "if I'd ha' known it would ha' made you mad, I wouldn't +have asked Jarge Riley--honest I wouldn't. You believe me, don't you, +Rosie?" + +Tears were in Rosie's throat and self-abasement in her heart. Words, +however, came hard. Fortunately she could slip her arm about Janet's +neck in the old sweet, intimate fashion and Janet would understand that +all was well between them. + +"And, Janet dear, are you sure that Tom'll tell his mother?" + +"Yes, I'm sure, because I made him promise not to." + +"Why, Janet!" + +"Sure, Rosie. You see Aunt Kitty'll ask him all about things and he'll +tell about you and how pretty you looked and about Jarge Riley, and then +Aunt Kitty'll begin making fun of me and that'll make Tom mad and he'll +tell Aunt Kitty not to be so sure, and then she'll see he's holding back +something and she'll tease until she gets it out of him.... Oh, Rosie, I +tell you I know her just as well! I can just hear her! And when Tom +tells her how mad you are, that'll make her believe the rest.... But +honestly, Rosie, I didn't know you was mad till Tom told me." + +"Tom!" Rosie was indignant at once. "Do you mean to say Tom Sullivan +told you I was mad? Well, the next time you see Tom Sullivan you tell +him for me to mind his own business!" Rosie paused a moment, then drew +Janet closer to her. "Mad? What's eating Tom Sullivan? Friends like you +and me, Janet, don't get _mad_!" + +And Janet McFadden, shaking her head in horror that any one should even +suggest such a thing, declared emphatically: "Of course not!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +ON SCARS AND BRUISES + + +A few mornings later Rosie was seated on the front steps, shelling peas, +when Janet passed the gate. + +"Aren't you coming in?" Rosie called out. + +At first Janet was not, but on Rosie's second invitation she changed her +mind. As she reached the steps, Rosie discovered the reason of her +hesitation. She had a black eye. She carried it consciously, but with +such dignity, as it were, that Rosie could not at once decide whether +Janet expected her to speak of it, or to accept it without comment. + +Janet herself, after an introductory remark about the weather, broached +the subject. + +"What do you think about the eye I've got on me? Ain't it a beaut?" + +It certainly was, and Rosie expressed emphatic appreciation. + +"And how do you suppose I got it?" Janet pursued. + +"I couldn't guess if I had to!" + +Rosie's answer was tactful, rather than truthful. In her own mind she +had very little doubt whence the black eye had come. But it would never +do to say that she supposed it had been given Janet by her father during +one of the drunken rages to which he was subject. With one's dearest +friend one may be frank almost to brutality, but not on the subject of +that friend's family. There are reserves that even friendship may not +penetrate. So, with an exaggeration of guilelessness, Rosie declared: + +"I couldn't guess if I had to! Honest I couldn't!" + +Janet had her story ready: + +"You know how dark the halls in our building are. Well, I was just going +downstairs, when a boy sneaked up behind me, and pushed me, and I +slipped, and hit my face against the banister. And I think I know who it +was, too!" + +Rosie was by nature too simple and direct to simulate with any great +success the kind of surprise that Janet was forever demanding of her. +Fortunately this time it did not matter, for, while Janet was speaking, +Rosie's mother had appeared with an armful of darning. Unlike Rosie, +Mrs. O'Brien was always in a state of what might be termed chronic +surprise. She paused now before seating herself, to remark in shocked +tones: + +"Why, Janet McFadden, what's this ye're tellin'? Mercy on us, ain't b'ys +just awful sometimes! But I'm thinkin' your da'll soon settle that lad!" + +Janet shook her head violently. + +"Mrs. O'Brien, I wouldn't dare tell my father that boy's name for +anything! My father'd just murder him--honest he would! It just makes my +father crazy when anybody touches me! He ain't responsible, he gets so +mad--really he ain't! So you can see yourself I got to be mighty careful +what I tell him. Besides, I ain't dead sure it was that boy, but I think +it was." + +Mrs. O'Brien's interest in the situation equalled Janet's own. + +"I see exactly the place you're in, Janet, and I must say it's wise, the +stand you take." + +Mrs. O'Brien bit off a strand of darning cotton, and carefully stiffened +the end. + +"You see," Janet continued, "it's this way with me. I'm an only child, +and you know yourself how men act about their only child." + +"I do, indeed, Janet, and I feel for you." From her sympathetic +understanding of Janet's problem, one would never have supposed that +Mrs. O'Brien herself was the mother of a large family, and had been the +child of a larger one. She held up a sock impressively. "You're quite +right, Janet. Your da might do somethin' awful. There's no holdin' back +some men when they take it into their heads that their only child has +been mistreated." + +Rosie sighed inwardly. She had very little of that histrionic sense that +prompts people to assume a part and play it out in all seriousness. At +first such a performance as the present one wearied her. Why in the +world do people pretend a thing when they know perfectly well that they +are pretending? Then, as the moments passed, she grew interested in +spite of herself, for the acting of her mother and Janet was most +convincing. At last she was not quite sure that it was acting. She was +brought back to her senses by Janet's turning suddenly to her with the +exclamation: + +"Ain't they all o' them just awful, anyhow!" + +No need to ask Janet of whom she was speaking. It was an old practice of +hers, this glorifying her father in one breath, and in the next +vilifying men in general. Rosie protested at once: + +"Why are they awful? I think they're nice." + +Janet looked at her in kindly commiseration. + +"Well, then, Rosie, all I got to say is--you don't know 'em." + +"I don't know them! Well, I like that!" Rosie was indignant now. "I +guess I know them as well as you do!" Rosie paused, then concluded in +triumph: "Don't I know my own brother Terry? I guess he's all right!" + +"Terry," Janet repeated, with a significant headshake. "Now I suppose, +Rosie, you think you and Terry are great friends, don't you?" + +"I don't think so; I know so." + +Janet laughed cynically. + +"Yes, I suppose you and him are great friends as long as you run your +legs off for him. But listen to me, Rosie O'Brien! Do you know what he'd +do to you if you was to lose one of his paper customers? He'd beat the +very puddin' out of you! I guess I know!" + +"Janet, you're crazy!" + +"Crazy? All right, Rosie, have it your own way. But I leave it to Mis' +O'Brien if I ain't right." + +That lady, being, as it were, pledged to Janet's support, instead of +vindicating her own son, made the weak admission: + +"Well, I must confess there's somethin' in what Janet says." + +At Janet's departure, Rosie looked at her mother scornfully. + +"Ma, don't you really know how Janet got that black eye?" + +Mrs. O'Brien dropped her darning in surprise. At every turn life seemed +to hold a fresh surprise for Mrs. O'Brien. + +"Why, Rosie! What a question to ask your poor ma! Do I look like I was +born yesterday?" + +Mrs. O'Brien did not; but, even so, Rosie insisted upon a direct answer. + +"Well, then, if you really must know, Rosie dear, I'll be glad to tell +you. That brute of a Dave McFadden has been knockin' her down again." + +Rosie clucked her tongue impatiently. "Maggie O'Brien, there's one thing +I'd like to ask you. When Janet knew how she got that black eye, and you +knew how she got it, and she knew perfectly well that you knew, why in +the world did you both go pretending something else?" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her daughter in patient despair. + +"My, my, Rosie, what a child ye do be! Wouldn't it be awful of me to go +insultin' poor little Janet by saying: 'Ho, ho, Janet, that's a fine +black eye yir da has given you!'" + +Rosie squirmed in exasperation. "But why do you got to say anything? Why +do either of you got to say anything?" + +"Why do I got to say anything?" In Mrs. O'Brien, surprise had now turned +to amazement. "Why, Rosie dear, what's this ye're askin' me? Haven't I +always got to say somethin'? Wasn't it for talkin' purposes that the +Lord put a tongue in me head?" + +"But couldn't you talk about something else besides that black eye?" + +"I could not. Take me word for it, Rosie, that black eye was the one +thing of all to talk about. Don't you see, dear, 'twas that was taking +up Janet's entire attention, for it was on her mind as well as on her +face. So not to make it awkward for the poor child, I simply had to talk +and let her talk." + +Rosie still shook her head obstinately. "Even if it was on her mind, I +don't see why she had to go make up that silly story that nobody +believes, and that she don't believe herself. She always does." + +Mrs. O'Brien's face broke into a smile of understanding. + +"Ah, Rosie, I see now what's troublin' you. You don't see why poor Janet +wants to cover up that brute of a Dave." + +This was exactly what was troubling Rosie, as she agreed readily enough. + +"And, Ma," she continued, "do you suppose if my father beat me, I'd go +around pretending he was the best ever? Well, I wouldn't!" + +"Your poor da, did you say, Rosie? May God forgive you for havin' such a +thought! Why, that poor lamb wouldn't hurt a fly--he's that gentle! Ah, +Rosie, it's on yir knees ye ought to be every night of yir life, +thankin' God for the kind o' father I picked out for you!" + +"I am thankful, but I wouldn't be if he was like Dave McFadden. And I +wouldn't pretend I was, either." + +"Ah, it's little ye know about that, Rosie, for just let me tell +ye--ye'd be exactly like Janet if ye were in Janet's shoes." + +"I bet I wouldn't!" + +"Rosie, ye couldn't help yirself. Ye'd have to stand up for him even if +he was a brute." + +"Why would I have to?" + +"Because he's your da. Is it possible, Rosie dear, that ye don't yet +know 'tis a woman's first duty to stand up for a man if he's her da, or +her brother, or her husband, or her son? Mercy on us, where would we be +if she didn't? Have ye ever heard me, all the years of your life, +breathe a whisper against Jamie O'Brien?" + +"I should think not!" To Rosie this seemed a very poor example of the +principle in question. "How could you? Dad never even beats the boys, +let alone you and me!" + +Mrs. O'Brien smacked her lips pensively. "No, he don't beat me." She +sighed slowly. "I mean _now_ he don't." + +Rosie looked at her mother with startled eyes. "Ma, what do you mean?" + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed again, and took up her darning. "Nuthin' at all, +Rosie. I don't know what I'm sayin'. I can't gab another minute, for I +must finish this sock. So run off, like a good child, and don't bother +me." + +"But, Ma"--Rosie's voice dropped to a whisper, and a look of horror came +into her face--"do you mean he used to--beat you?" + +"Rosie dear, stop pesterin' me with your questions. Far be it from me to +set child against father, and, besides, as you know yourself, he's +behavin' now. What's past is past. I've said this much to you, Rosie, +so's to give you a hint of the ragin' lions that these here quiet, +soft-spoken little lambs of men keep caged up inside o' them. Oh, I tell +you, Rosie dear, beware o' that kind of a man, for you never know when +the lion in him is goin' to break loose and leap out upon you. Ah, I +know what I'm sayin' to me everlastin' sorrow!" + +"Why, Ma, are you crazy! Dad has never laid a finger on you, or on any +one else, and you know he hasn't!" + +Rosie scanned her mother's face in hope of discovering a little family +joke, but Mrs. O'Brien met her gaze with sad, truthful eyes as guileless +as a baby's. + +"All right, Rosie dear, maybe your poor ma is crazy. But I wonder now +ye've never noticed the scar on me right shoulder, nor asked the cause +of it." + +"What scar?" + +"Have you never seen it, Rosie?" + +Mrs. O'Brien began unbuttoning her waist to exhibit the scarred +shoulder. Then she paused, thought a moment, and changed her mind. + +"No. As ye've never noticed it, Rosie, it wouldn't be right of me to +show it to you now. The sight of it might make you bitter. But you +surprise me that you've never seen it. It's a foot long at least, and +two fingers deep, and itches in rainy weather." + +"Why, Ma!" Rose's eyes were fixed, and her mouth a round, blank question +mark. + +"Upon me word of honour, Rosie!" + +For a moment Rosie was too shocked to go on. Then she gasped: "How--how +did it happen?" + +"How did it happen, do you ask? That, Rosie, is a secret that'll go with +me to the grave. This much I'll tell you--'twas made with a +butcher-knife. But who gave the blow, I wouldn't confess under torture. +Now, Rosie dear, don't tempt me to say another word, for I'm done." + +Mrs. O'Brien lifted her head high, took a long breath, and began a +serious attack on the sock. + +Rosie questioned further, but in vain. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE BRUTE AT BAY + + +Her own father!... All afternoon as she went about delivering papers, +Rosie's mind kept going over this amazing revelation. Not for an instant +did she question the truth of it. An exuberance of imagination very +often led her mother to embroider fancifully the details of a story, but +surely not this time. This time that scar, that awful scar, was evidence +enough of what had taken place. + +To think that Rosie had never even suspected that side of her father's +nature! She shuddered at her own innocence. To her, her father had +always seemed all gentleness and meekness. Gentleness and meekness, +indeed! Why, with that raging lion ramping and tearing about inside of +him he was little better than a wolf in sheep's clothing! + +At first Rosie dreaded ever seeing him again. She doubted whether, at +sight of him, she could conceal sufficiently the abhorrence that she +felt. Then she began to want to see him, as one wants to see the animals +in the carnivora building at feeding time. It is a racking experience, +but one likes to go through it. Rosie's final decision was to take one +look at the beast, hear for herself the sound of its roar, then flee it +forever. + +A good time to see Jamie O'Brien was after supper, in the cool of the +evening, when he slipped off his shoes, unloosened his suspenders, and +sat him down in the peace and quiet of the back yard. He had a +broken-down old arm-chair, which he knew how to prop against the ancient +little apple-tree and support with a brick at its shortest leg. For +one-half hour every summer evening, when the old chair was properly +braced, and his sock feet were stretched out at ease on a soap-box, +Jamie O'Brien knew comfort, utter and absolute. It was the moment when, +like old King Cole, he called for his pipe. + +"Rosie dear, like a good child, will you bring me me pipe and a few +matches?" + +Rosie, busied in the kitchen over the supper dishes, always knew just +when this call was coming, and always had her answer ready: "All right, +Dad. Just wait till I dry my hands and I will." + +Tonight she gave the usual answer in the usual cheerful tone, for she +felt that it behooved her to meet deceit with deceit if she was to catch +the beast unaware. So she got Jamie his pipe, and later came out again +and perched on the arm of his chair. + +"Say, Dad," she began. + +She took a peep at him from the corner of her eye. Heaven knows he did +not look fierce. He was a plain, lean, little man, of indeterminate +colouring, with sparse hair, sparser mustache, and faded blue eyes, +that had a patient, far-away look in them. His face was thin and worn, +with lines that betokened years of labour borne steadily and without +complaint. He was a silent man and passed for thoughtful, though +contemplative would better express his cast of mind. He looked at things +and people slowly and quietly, as if considering them carefully before +committing himself. Then, when he spoke, it would be some slight remark, +brief and commonplace. + +When Rosie began: "Say Dad," he waited patiently. After several seconds +had elapsed, he turned his head slightly and said: "Well, Rosie?" + +He gave her a faint smile, and patted her hand affectionately. +Ordinarily, at this place, Rosie would have slipped an arm about his +neck, but tonight she held back. + +"Say, Dad," she opened again, in a coaxing, confidential tone, "did you +have a good run today?" + +The world in general supposes, no doubt, that, to a motorman, one day's +run must be much like any other. Rosie knew better. + +Jamie very deliberately relit his pipe before answering. Then he said: +"Yes, it was all right, Rosie." + +Rosie waited, as she knew from his manner that something more would +finally come. Jamie gazed about thoughtfully, then concluded: "They was +a flat wheel on the rear truck." + +Rosie was all sympathy. "Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry! It must ha' been horrid +riding all day on a flat wheel." + +Jamie took a puff or two, then announced: "I didn't mind it." + +"Well, Dad, did you report it?" + +Jamie scratched his head, as if in an effort to remember, and at last +said: "Sure." + +After a decent interval, Rosie began again: "Say, Dad, what'd you think +of a man who chased his wife with a hatchet?" + +Rosie thought it would be a little indelicate to come right out with +butcher-knife. Hatchet was near enough, anyway. Rosie's idea was that +her father would betray himself by defending the husband. When he did, +she expected to tell him that she knew all. Her imagination did not +carry her beyond this. She was prepared, however, for something +horrible. + +Jamie O'Brien turned his head almost quickly. "With a hatchet, did you +say, Rosie?" + +"Yes, Dad, with a hatchet." + +"That's bad. And is it some one around here that we know?" + +"No, it ain't anybody. I was just saying, what would you think of a man +who did that?" + +"And it ain't some one we know?" + +With a wave of his pipe, Jamie dismissed all hypothetical hatchets, and +returned to the more sensible contemplation of the sky line. + +Rosie felt that she was being trifled with. She gazed at her father +meaningly. + +"Well, what would you say to a man who chased his wife with a +butcher-knife?" + +Again Jamie took an exasperating time to answer, and again his answer +took the form of the question: "Is it some one we know, Rosie?" + +Rosie threw discretion to the winds. "I'm sure you ought to know whether +it's some one we know!" + +Jamie blinked his eyes slowly and thoughtfully. "I don't seem to place +him, Rosie." + +Rosie left him in disgust. Brutality is bad enough, but hypocrisy is +worse. She went as far as the kitchen door, then turned back. She would +give him one more chance. + +Again smiling, she put her arms about his neck. "Say, Dad, if you was to +get awful mad at me, what would you do?" + +"At you, do you say, Rosie? Well, now, I don't see how any one could get +awful mad at you." + +Rosie's patience was about exhausted, but she restrained herself. "But, +Dad, if I was to do something awful bad--steal ten dollars, or run away +from home!" + +Jamie looked at Rosie, then at the sky line, then at the soap-box, then +back at Rosie. Surely now a brutal threat was coming. + +"Why, Rosie dear, I don't think you'd ever do anything like that!" + +Huh! What kind of an answer was that for a father to give his child? +Rosie straightened her back, and without another word departed. She felt +that her worst fears were justified. Any man as difficult to trap as +Jamie O'Brien was a dangerous character. + +She nursed her resentment the rest of the evening. Just before she went +to sleep, however, she decided, as a matter of scrupulous justice, to +suspend final judgment until she should have seen for herself that +damning evidence of his brutality, namely, the scar on her poor mother's +right shoulder. Yes, she would find some excuse for seeing it at once. + +The next morning, while her mother was preparing to go to market, of +itself the opportunity came. + +"Rosie dear," Mrs. O'Brien called down from upstairs, "I need your help. +One of me corset strings is busted." + +Rosie found her mother seated at the bureau, half dressed, fanning +herself with a towel. A full expanse of neck and shoulders was exposed, +so that Rosie, busied at her mother's back, was able to scan minutely +all that there was to scan. She looked and looked again, and by patting +her mother affectionately, was able to add the testimony of touch to +that of sight. + +In due time her mother departed, and Rosie, left alone, turned to the +mirror and gazed into it several moments without speaking. + +"Well!" she said at last. "What do you know about that!" + +She shook her head at the round-eyed person in the mirror, and the +round-eyed person nodded back, as deeply impressed with the +inexplicability of things as Rosie herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +WHAT EVERY LADY WANTS + + +All morning Rosie moved about the house preoccupied and silent, heaving +an occasional sigh, murmuring an occasional "Huh!" + +At dinner she paid scant attention to her mother's market adventures, +and with difficulty heard Terry's orders concerning a new paper +customer. Her mind was too fully occupied with a problem of its own to +be interested in anything else. + +On the whole it was a strange problem, and one that, after hours of +thought, remained unsolved. By mid-afternoon Rosie was ready to cast it +from her in disgust but she found that she could not. Like a bad +conscience, it stayed with her, dogging her steps even on her paper +route. + +It had the effect of colouring everything that she saw or heard. When +she handed a paper to Mrs. Donovan, the policeman's wife, who exclaimed: +"What do you think of the beautiful new hammock that Mr. Donovan has +just gave me?" Rosie remarked in a tone that was almost sarcastic: "Oh, +ain't you lucky!" and to herself she added cynically: "And I'd like to +know who gave you that black-and-blue spot on your arm!" + +She found one of the Misses Grey pale and haggard under the strain of a +hot-weather headache. Rosie forced her unwilling tongue to some +expression of sympathy; but, once on her way, she told her disgruntled +self that what she had wanted to say was: "Well, Miss Grey, I must say, +if I didn't know you was an old maid, I'd ha' taken you for a happy +married woman!" + +Near the end of the route, she found old Danny Agin waiting, as usual, +for his paper. His little blue eyes twinkled Rosie a welcome, and his +jolly cracked voice called out: "How are you today, Rosie?" + +For a moment Rosie gazed at him without speaking. Then she shook her +head, and sighed. + +"You look all right, Danny Agin, just as kind and nice as can be, but I +guess Mis' Agin knows a few things about you!" + +Danny blinked his eyes several times in quick succession. "What's this +ye're sayin', Rosie?" + +"Oh, nuthin'. I was only saying what a nice day it was. Good-bye." + +Rosie started resolutely away, then paused. She really wanted some one +with whom to talk out her perplexity, and here was Danny Agin, a man of +sound sense and quick sympathy, and her own sworn friend and ally. + +Rosie turned back and, seating herself on the porch step at Danny's +feet, looked up into Danny's face. + +"What's troublin' you, Rosie dear?" Danny's tone was kind and invited +confidence. + +Rosie shook her head gloomily. "Danny, I'm just so mixed up that I don't +know where I'm at. You know Janet McFadden? Well----" + +Rosie took a long breath and, beginning at the beginning, gave Danny a +full account of yesterday's discussion. She brought her story down to +that very morning when her mother had called her upstairs to tie the +broken corset string. At this point she paused and sighed, then looked +at Danny long and searchingly. + +"And, Danny, listen here: _There wasn't any scar at all!_ I hunted over +every scrap of both shoulders and I felt 'em, too, and they were just as +round and smooth as a fat baby! And she said: 'A foot long at least and +two fingers deep.' And she even said it itched in rainy weather! Now +what do you know about that?" + +Danny slowly shook out the folds of a large red handkerchief, dropped it +over his head and face, and bowed himself as though in prayer. No sound +came from behind the handkerchief, but Danny's body began to shake +convulsively. Either he was sobbing, or---- + +"Danny Agin, are you laughing?" + +Danny slowly raised his head and, drawing off the handkerchief, began +wiping his eyes. + +"Laughin', is it? Why, it's weepin' I am! Don't you see the tears?" + +Rosie looked at him doubtfully. "I don't see what you're weeping about." + +Danny shook his head mournfully. "It's a way I have, Rosie. A thought +came over me while we was talkin' and off I went. And--and here it comes +again!" + +Danny reached for his handkerchief, but too late. The thought seemed to +hit him full in the stomach, and back he fell into his chair, rolling +and spluttering. + +"Danny Agin, you are laughing!" + +Danny wiped his eyes again. "Perhaps I am this time, Rosie. I'm took +different at different times." + +Rosie frowned on him severely. "Well, I think you were laughing the +first time and you needn't deny it. And, what's more, I don't see +anything to laugh at." + +"Whisht now, darlint, and I'll tell you. I'll talk to you like man to +man. 'Twas thought of the ladies." + +"What ladies?" + +"All o' them. They're all the same." + +"Who are all the same?" + +"The ladies, Rosie. Janet and your ma, and the rest o' them!" + +"Danny, I don't see how you can say that. Ma and Janet are not a bit the +same. They're exactly different. There's ma who's got a kind husband, +and she goes telling that he chases her with a butcher-knife, and +there's Janet whose father is a drunken brute, and she goes pretending +he's the best ever." + +"Precisely, Rosie. You couldn't have expressed it better. Now you'll +understand me when I tell you that they all want the same thing, which +is this: They want to be beat, and they don't want to be beat. Now let +me say it to you again, Rosie: They want to be beat, and they don't want +to be beat. There!" + +Rosie put her hands to her head in distraction. "Danny Agin, I don't +know what you're talking about!" + +"I'm talkin' about the ladies." + +"Well, then, what I want to know is this: How can they want a thing when +they don't want it?" + +It was Danny's turn to look distracted. "Rosie, Rosie, ye'll drive me +mad with yir questions! If I could tell you how they do, I would and +gladly. But I can't. All I can tell you is they do." + +"But, Danny, what sense has a thing like that got? 'They want to be +beat, and they don't want to be beat.' That's exactly like saying: It's +winter and it's summer at the same time. It's not good sense to say a +thing like that." + +"Sense, Rosie?" Danny looked at her reproachfully. "It's not sense I'm +talkin' about. It's not the logic of the ladies I'm impressin' on you, +mind--it's their feelin's. I'm tellin' you the kind o' man every lady's +on the lookout for--a fine brute of a fella that would as soon knock +her down as look at her, and yet would never raise a finger against +her." + +Rosie's hands dropped limply into her lap. "Danny Agin, do you know +sometimes I get so mixed up that I feel just like I was crazy! That's +how I feel now." + +Danny nodded sympathetically. "Small wonder, Rosie. 'They want to be +beat, and they don't want to be beat.' I defy any man to say that over +fifty times and not go mad! And what would you say, Rosie, to a poor man +havin' to live, day in and day out, for forty years with an everlastin' +conthradiction like that? Ah, Mary's a fine woman, but I tell you, +Rosie, in all confidence, I've had me own troubles. Many's the time I've +seen her just achin' for a good sound beatin', but, if ever I'd laid the +tip o' me finger upon her, her heart would ha' broke, and she'd ha' felt +the shame of it the longest day of her life. And they're all the same, +Rosie; take me word for it, they're all the same. They want their +menfolks to be lions, and they want them to be lambs." + +_Lions and lambs!_ Her mother's very words! Upon Rosie the light began +to break. "Why, Danny!" she gasped. + +"Take yir own case, Rosie dear. There's yir own da, a meek lamb of a +man----" + +"But, Danny, I like my father because he's so kind!" + +"Whisht, now, darlint, and listen. Wouldn't it be fine if he was the +size of that sthrappin' polisman, Pete Donovan, with the lump of a +diamond in his shirt front as big as an egg, and a great black mustache +coverin' the red lips of him, and a roar in his voice that'd send the +b'ys a-scatterin' for blocks around!" + +The figure evoked was certainly one of heroic proportions, and Rosie, as +she gazed at it, involuntarily gave a little sigh. + +Danny chuckled. "Ha, ha, Rosie! Ye're like the rest o' them!" + +"No, I'm not, Danny Agin! Honest I'm not! I'm glad my father's kind. I +wouldn't love him if he wasn't, and you needn't think I would!" + +Rosie struggled hard to convince Danny, but in vain. The more she +protested, the louder Danny chuckled. + +"Only think, Rosie dear, the pride in yir heart, if this great brute of +a man, rampin' about like a lion, tearin' to pieces everybody that stood +in his way, in yir own prisence, wee bit of a woman that ye are, should +turn into a tame lamb!" + +"Oh, Danny!" + +In spite of herself, Rosie faced the world with something of the +conscious air of a lion-tamer. Danny's chuckle recalled her to herself, +and she watched him with growing resentment, as he continued: + +"You see, Rosie, it's this way: The worse brute a man is, the greater +glory he brings to the woman that tames him. Rosie, me advice to any +young man that is courtin' a girl is to roar--not to roar at her, mind, +but at everybody else when she's within hearin'. What a fine feelin' it +must give a girl to have a roarin' bull of a young fella come softly up +to her and eat out of her hand! And think of the great game it is to +keep him tame! Rosie, take me word for it, these here soft-spoken men +like yir own poor da and like meself--I take shame to confess it--make a +great mistake. Many's the time it had been better for me peace of mind +afterward had I let out a roar just for appearances' sake. I see it +now." + +Danny wagged his head and sighed. + +"It's lucky for you, Rosie, that you have me to tell you all this, for +ye'd never hear it from the ladies themselves. They never let out a +whisper about it, but carry on just like Janet and yir own ma. Ah, don't +tell me! I know them! They's some kind of a mystic sisterhood among +them--I dunno just what, and in some few things they never give each +other away." + +"Don't they, Danny?" + +"They do not." + +Rosie regarded the old man thoughtfully. One could see the very +processes of a new idea slowly working in her mind. Danny watched her +curiously. At length he asked: "Well, Rosie, what is it?" + +Rosie paused impressively before answering: "I was just thinking, Danny +Agin, that you're right about yourself, but you're making a great +mistake about my father." Rosie nodded significantly. "He's not as quiet +as you think he is, in spite of his quiet ways. Sometimes he's just +awful." + +For a moment Danny was taken in. "Why, Rosie, aren't you just afther +tellin' me about the scar that wasn't there?" + +"Yes, and I'm sorry now I told you." There was a gleam in Rosie's eye +which declared very emphatically that the sequel to that story would +never again be related. "Listen here, Danny Agin! Now I understand--if +my mother made up something about that scar, it was just to hide +something else that was worse!" + +"Why, Rosie! Ye don't say so!" For a moment Danny looked at her in +astonishment. Then he lay back with a wheezy guffaw. "Rosie, ye'll be +the death o' me yet! I suppose if the truth was known, Jamie beats yir +ma every night of her life to a black-and-blue jelly! Don't he now?" + +Rosie covered herself with an air of distant reserve. "I'm not going to +tell you what he does. That's a family matter. But I will say one thing: +You think Terry's awful nice, don't you? Everybody does. But do you know +what he'd do to me if I was to lose one of his paper customers? He'd +just beat the puddin' out o' me--yes, he would!" + +"Why, Rosie!" Danny looked shocked. "What's this ye're sayin'? I +thought you and Terry were great friends." + +"Great friends? Oh, yes, we're great friends all right. You can always +be great friends with a fellow like Terry as long as you run your legs +off for him. But just let something happen, and then----" + +Rosie ended with a "Huh!" and shook her head gloomily. + +Danny gasped. "You don't say so, Rosie!" + +There was the sound of an opening screen, and Danny, knowing that his +wife must be coming, with a wheezy chuckle called out: + +"Mary, Mary, do ye know who's here? It's Rosie O'Brien, and she's one of +ye! She's fallen into line!" + +Mrs. Agin came out on the porch, and stood for a moment looking from +Danny to Rosie. She was a tall, gaunt old woman with thick white hair +and thick eyebrows, which were still dark. She gave one the impression +of great tidiness and cleanliness, together with the possibility of that +caustic speech which so often characterizes the good housekeeper. + +Rosie appealed to her eagerly: "Mis' Agin, I think Danny's just awful!" + +Mrs. Agin glanced sharply at Danny, and then, with a seemingly +clairvoyant understanding that the subject under discussion related +somehow to the eternal war of the sexes, she went over to Rosie's side +at once. + +"What's he been sayin' to you, dear?" + +"He's making fun of me because I told him if I was to lose one of my +paper customers, Terry would beat me. And he would, too!" + +Mrs. Agin turned on Danny severely. "Take shame to yourself, Dan Agin, +to be teasin' Rosie O'Brien!" + +"And listen here, Mis' Agin," Rosie continued. "He's been sayin' just +awful things about us!" + +"About us, Rosie? Do you mean about both of us?" + +"About all of us, Mis' Agin--us ladies." + +Rosie sat up very straight and severe. + +Danny seemed to think the situation amusing, but he was the only one who +did. Mrs. Agin glared at him darkly. + +"Dan Agin, what's this ye've been sayin' to Rosie?" + +Danny continued to shake with silent mirth, so Rosie answered for him: + +"He says what all of us ladies wants is this: We want to be beat, and we +don't want to be beat. Now, isn't that the silliest thing you ever +heard, Mis' Agin? And he says when we marry a brute of a man, we pretend +that he's kind and nice, and when we marry a nice, kind man, we let on +he's a brute." + +"Dan Agin, what do ye mean, puttin' such nonsense into Rosie's head? +Answer me that now!" + +"And listen, Mis' Agin," Rosie went on. "Just because he's that kind of +a man himself, he thinks everybody else is. And they're not! Every one +thinks my father's so quiet and nice, but I guess I know him! Sometimes +he's just awful! And Terry, too! But Danny here, he thinks they're every +one of them just as harmless as he is. I guess he's so scared himself +that that's the reason he tries to make out that other men are, too!" + +Mrs. Agin glared at Danny a moment in silence. Then she spoke: + +"Dan Agin, how dare ye go blastin' the reputation of decent men! There +are others like ye, do ye say? There are not! There's not another woman +in Ameriky that's stood what I've stood for forty years! Ah, many's the +time it was just one black murtherin' look I was cravin' from ye to bear +out me story that I had married a man, instead of a joke! And did ever I +get it from ye, Dan Agin! I did not--bad cess to ye for a soft-hearted, +good-for-nuthin' of a man that'd let a woman thrample ye in the dust if +she wanted to! 'Twas yir luck that ye little deserved to marry a decent, +quiet woman like meself!" + +"Ye're right, Mary!" Danny murmured meekly. "Ye're a fine woman!" + +"Hold yir tongue, Dan Agin, or, cripple that ye are, I'll be givin' you +the lickin' that I've wanted to give you these forty years every time +ye've let me have me own way when I oughtn't have had it!" + +Rosie stood up to go. "I have one more paper to deliver, Mis' Agin, so +I'll have to say good-bye. If Terry was to know that I stopped to talk +before I had delivered all my papers, he'd beat me half to death." + +Mrs. Agin smiled on her affectionately. "Good-bye, Rosie dear. And mind, +now, if ever again Danny goes talkin' such nonsense, ye're to call me, +and I'll soon settle him. Now run along, or that brute of a Terry'll be +after you." + +"Good-bye, Rosie," Danny called out, in a tone of hypocritical meekness +that made Rosie's blood boil anew. + +Rosie stopped and turned about to give him the look of scorn that he +deserved. + +"Danny Agin, you just ought to be ashamed o' yourself the way you treat +poor Mis' Agin!" + +"I am, Rosie," Danny gasped in a voice of mock tears exasperating beyond +words. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +ROSIE PROMISES TO BE GOOD + + +Rosie hurried away, furious at Danny, and furious also at her own +father. Any man who puts his womenfolk to such shame ought to be choked! +In spite of certain drawbacks, Janet McFadden's lot was happier than +Mrs. Agin's, or than Rosie's own. At least no one ever called into +question Dave McFadden's ability to govern his own household. This was +so patent to the world at large that Janet could actually go about +pretending that her father was a sentimental weakling. Happy, happy +Janet! + +It made Rosie shudder in self-disgust to think of the many damning +admissions that she had made Janet. Well, at any rate, she would never +again be caught. She had learned a thing or two since yesterday. +Moreover, she would lose no time in setting Janet right. She would stop +to see Janet now on her way home. That scar story would make Janet open +her eyes! And Rosie would not foolishly situate it on a spot as easy of +detection as her mother's right shoulder. Nev-er! + +A woman who was sweeping the steps in front of the tenement where the +McFaddens lived, made the friendly inquiry: "Lookin' for Janet?" + +Rosie nodded. + +"Better not go up," the woman advised. "Dave McFadden's just come in +soused again." + +Rosie paused. + +"Is he beating Janet?" + +"No, I don't think so. Janet knows pretty well how to take care of +herself. Gee, you ought to see her dodge him! She's a wonder! He +wouldn't ha' caught her last time if she hadn't slipped." + +Rosie started on, and the woman called after her: "I tell you, you +better not go up! Dave sure is out lookin' for trouble!" + +The warning was a kindly one, but Rosie saw no reason for accepting it. +The truth was that, in her present mood of resentment against the Danny +Agins and Jamie O'Briens of life, she felt that it would be a relief to +see a man who was confessedly out looking for trouble. + +The McFaddens lived on the fourth floor back. Their door was open, so +Rosie could hear that something was going on as she climbed the third +flight of stairs. When she reached the top, her courage faltered. Had +the McFadden door been closed, very probably she could not have forced +herself to knock; but, as it was open, if she slipped along the dark +hall quietly, she could take a peep inside before announcing herself. + +"Daddy!" she heard cried out suddenly. It was Janet's voice. "My arm! +You're hurting me! Please let go! I'll be good!" + +"Arguin' with your own father, eh?" Dave's thick voice boomed and +rumbled. "Well, I'll learn you a lesson!" + +"But, Daddy," Janet coaxed; "wait a minute! The door's open! Please let +me shut it! Some one will hear us! Please let go of me just a minute!" + +Then, just as Rosie reached the door, there was a scuffle inside, and +Janet must have escaped her father's clutches, for instantly the door +slammed. It slammed so nearly into Rosie's face that, with a gasp, she +turned and fled. Down the three flights of stairs she ran, past the +woman on the front steps without a word, and on to the safety of home as +fast as her panting heart could carry her. There, spent and breathless, +she murmured to herself: + +"Well, anyhow, I'm mighty glad it ain't me, 'cause I can't dodge worth a +cent!" + + * * * * * + +That night after supper, while Rosie was washing dishes, when Jamie +O'Brien called: "Rosie dear, like a good child, will ye bring me me pipe +and a few matches?" Rosie sang out in tones positively vibrating with +feeling: "Yes, Daddy darling, I will! I'll bring them this very minute!" + +Later she perched herself on the side of her father's chair, and put an +arm about his neck. + +"Good old Daddy! Did you have a good run today, dearie?" + +Jamie sucked his pipe hard and, after thinking a while, answered: +"Pretty good." + +"And, Daddy dear, did they take off that car that had a flat wheel?" + +This was a question that required considerable deliberation. Rosie +waited, and at last had her reward. + +"Sure they did." + +"Oh, Daddy!" Rosie hugged him suddenly, and kissed his thin, leathery +cheek. "I just love you so much! I wouldn't change you for any other +father in the world!" + +After getting the full purport of this declaration, Jamie remarked: +"That's good!" + +Rosie slipped impulsively from the arm of the chair into Jamie's lap. It +was not a comfortable arrangement for Jamie, but he was a patient soul, +and made no outcry. + +Rosie snuggled up to him affectionately. "Say, Daddy," she whispered, +"if I was awful bad, what would you do to me? Wouldn't you just beat +me?" + +Jamie relit his pipe, took one puff, examined the sky line, then shook +his head knowingly: "I would that! But, Rosie dear, you mustn't be bad, +you know." + +Rosie took a long, shivery breath. "Oh, Daddy, please don't beat me! +I'll be good, honest I will!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +ON THE CULTURE OF BABIES + + +Midsummer came and with it a great suffocating blanket of heat which +brought prostration to the world at large and to little Rosie O'Brien a +new care and a great anxiety. + +"I don't mind about myself," she murmured one breathless sultry morning +as she served George Riley his late breakfast. Even George, who paid +scant attention to weather, looked worn and pale. + +Rosie sat down opposite him as he began eating and stared at him out of +eyes that were very sad and very serious. + +"It's Geraldine, Jarge. I don't know what I'm going to do. The poor +birdie was awake nearly all night. I hope you didn't hear us. I don't +want to disturb you, too." + +George shook his head. "Oh, I slept all right. I always do. But it was +so blamed hot that when I got up I felt weak as a cat." He bolted a +knifeful of fried potatoes, then asked: "What's ailing Geraldine? Ain't +her food agreeing with her?" + +Rosie sighed. It was the sigh of a little mother who had been asking +herself that same question over and over. "It's partly that; but I +think the food would be all right if only other things were all right. +You're a man, Jarge, so you don't understand about babies. It's +Geraldine's second summer and she's teething. Her poor little mouth's +all swollen and feverish. It would be bad enough in cold weather, but in +this heat she hardly gets a wink of sleep.... I tell you, Jarge, if we +don't do something for her real quick, she's just going to die!" Rosie +dropped her head on the table and wept. + +"Aw, now, 'tain't that bad, is it, Rosie?" + +"Yes." The answer came muffled in tears. "It's just awful, Jarge, the +way they go down. They'll be perfectly well, and then before you know +what's happening they just wilt, and you can't do anything for them. And +if Geraldine dies, I--I want to die too!" + +"Aw, Rosie, cheer up! She ain't going to die!" George's words were brave +but his face was troubled. "I suppose, now, if she was only in the +country, she'd be all right, wouldn't she?" + +Rosie wiped her eyes and sighed. "Is it cool in the country, Jarge?" + +[Illustration: Rosie stared at him out of eyes that were very sad and +very serious.] + +"You bet it is--just as cool and nice! The grass is green and wind's +always a-blowin' in the trees and you can hear the gurgle of the creek +down at the bottom of the meadow. And at night you can sleep on the big +upstairs porch, if you want to, and you always get a breeze up there. +And you needn't be afraid of mosquitoes and flies, either, 'cause mother +always has things screened in with black mosquito-netting. Oh, I tell +you it's just fine in the country!" + +George paused a moment, then laughed a little apologetically. +"Leastways, Rosie, that's how I always think of the country now. Of +course we do have sizzling weather out there just as much as we do here; +but it's different, somehow. Out there you get a chance to cool off. +They ain't them ever-lasting paved streets all around you, sending out +heat like a furnace night and day just the same.... Do you know, I ain't +felt like myself for three weeks! If I was back home now I tell you what +I'd do: I'd go down to the creek and take a dip and then I'd come in +and, by gosh, maybe I wouldn't sleep!" + +Rosie sighed again. "Well, no use talking about the country. It's the +city for ours, even if Geraldine does die." + +Tears again threatened and George hastened to give the comforting +assurance: "Aw, now, Rosie, it ain't that bad, I know it ain't. Besides, +this weather can't keep up forever. We'll be having a thunderstorm any +time now, and that'll cool things off." Then, to change the subject: +"What does your mother say about Geraldine?" + +"Pooh!" Rosie tossed her head in fine scorn. "I'd like to know what my +mother knows about babies!" + +George protested. "She ought to know something. She's had a few +herself." + +"Jarge Riley, you listen to me." Rosie looked at him fixedly. "With some +women, having babies don't mean one blessed thing! They just have 'em +and have 'em and have 'em, and that's all they know about them. Take me, +now, and I'm twelve, and take ma, and I don't know how old she is, but +she has had eight children, so you can judge for yourself, and right now +she's so ignur'nt about the proper care and feeding of babies that I +wouldn't dare trust Geraldine to her alone for twenty-four hours!" + +Rosie paused impressively, then concluded with the damning statement: +"All the time she was taking care of that baby she never once boiled a +nipple! Never once!" + +George blinked his eyes in puzzled thought. "Do you got to boil 'em?" + +For a moment Rosie glared unspeakable things. Then she answered with +crushing emphasis: "You certainly do!" + +George moved uneasily. "No hard feelings, Rosie. I was just askin'." + +Rosie was magnanimous. "I'm not blaming you, Jarge. You're a man and not +supposed to understand about sterilizing. But I do say it's disgraceful +in a mother of eight.... Why, do you know what ma was feeding Geraldine +when I took hold of her? Nothing but that old-fashioned baby-food that +nobody but ignur'nt people use now. It's the first thing they hand out +to you at the drug-store, if you don't know the difference. It makes +babies fat but it don't give them one bit of strength, and people like +ma suppose if a baby's fat, of course, it's all right. Oh, such +ignur'nce!" Rosie sighed wearily and cast long-suffering eyes to heaven. + +Balancing a conciliatory knife on his finger, George appealed to her as +man to man: "Now, Rosie, see here: I'm not saying that you don't know +all about babies, 'cause I think you do. I know the way you been finding +out things at the Little Mothers' Class and I know the way you study +that book. But facts is facts, Rosie, and after all, your ma has raised +five kids out of eight, and that ain't so bad." + +"Go on." Rosie looked at him challengingly. + +George had no more to say. + +Rosie had. "Jarge Riley, you know as much about babies as a rabbit! +Don't you know that Geraldine is a bottle-baby?" + +An expression of helpless wonderment spread over George's face. "Why, +Rosie, ain't they all bottle-babies? Seems to me I always seen 'em give +bottles to all of 'em." + +"All of them bottle-babies! Jarge, you're more ignur'nt than I supposed. +Why, every last baby my mother's had except Geraldine has been a +breast-baby!" + +The pink of an unexpected embarrassment mounted to George's shiny +cheekbones. + +Rosie surveyed him critically. "I suppose, now that you come to think +about it, it seems to you they must all be breast-babies, too. Tell me, +ain't that so?" + +"Search me if it ain't!" George spoke in candid bewilderment. + +"That just shows how much you know and yet you're willing to sit there +and argue with me. Now I suppose you think it takes as much brains to +raise a breast-baby as a bottle-baby." There was a question in Rosie's +tone but George, breathing hard, had no opinion to hazard. After a +moment of impressive silence, Rosie continued: "Any ordinary, ignur'nt, +healthy woman, with lots of good milk, can raise a baby, but when it +comes to bottle-feeding----" + +Rosie broke off suddenly and her face took on the expression of a +listening mother. + +"Rosie! Rosie!" Mrs. O'Brien's voice called. "Geraldine's awake and is +crying for you." + +Rosie paused long enough to say, in parting: "There's lots more I could +tell you, Jarge, if I had time." + +"Oh, don't mind me, Rosie. Just run along. I'm sure Geraldine needs +you." George spoke with a certain relief. The weight of the new +knowledge that Rosie had already imposed upon him seemed as much as he +could bear for the present. + +Rosie left him. She felt cheered and comforted, as talking out her +troubles with George always cheered and comforted her. Dear old George! +Rosie didn't know what she would do without him. + +It was well that she had the consciousness of his friendly interest to +support her, for the day was to prove a trying one. Not a breath of air +stirred, and Geraldine, languid and feverish, tossed and fretted +unceasingly. Ordinarily Rosie could have given her whole attention to +the ailing baby, but today she had to take her mother's place as cook +for dinner, since a large family washing required all of Mrs. O'Brien's +time and strength. If Geraldine would only have fallen off to sleep, +Rosie could have managed simply enough; but the poor child could not +sleep. So Rosie spent a frantic morning running back and forth between +kitchen and front room. + +"Why, Rosie, what ails you? You're not eating a bite," her father +remarked during dinner. + +"It's too hot to eat," Rosie murmured. + +"Give me your meat!" Jack cried out. "Please, Rosie!" + +Without a word, Rosie passed him her plate. + +In mid-afternoon, when it was time for Rosie to go about her business of +delivering papers, she entrusted the care of Geraldine to Janet +McFadden. For several days now she had been employing Janet for this +duty. Out of her own earnings she was paying Janet two cents a day, and +she did not grudge the money. Janet was the one person to whom she was +willing to entrust Geraldine at this critical time. Janet knew as much +about babies as Rosie herself, for she had gone to the Little Mother +classes with Rosie and had faithfully studied the book. So Rosie started +out with the feeling that she need not hurry back. + +She loitered along slowly; after the rush of home it was good to loiter. +Even the blazing sun was restful compared with home and its unending +demands. Rosie covered the ground at snail's pace, resting at the least +provocation of shade, and stopping to look at the least hint of anything +happening or likely to happen. + +It was five o'clock when she reached home again, and time to give +Geraldine her afternoon bath. Mrs. O'Brien was still at the +ironing-board and Rosie had to shift clothes-horses to find a place on +the floor for the big basin. + +"Ah, now, and ain't Rosie the kind sister to be giving Geraldine a nice +bath!" Mrs. O'Brien began in her usual tone and manner. "Your poor ma +wishes there was some one to give her a nice bath!" She rambled on while +Rosie splashed Geraldine and then began wrapping her in a towel. + +"I wouldn't moind it so much if only it cooled off of nights." Mrs. +O'Brien wiped her moist face with her apron, and sighed. "It's played +out I am, Rosie. I can't stand another minute." She took a long, +uncertain breath and dropped heavily into a chair. + +Rosie, with Geraldine in her arms, paused in the doorway. She, too, +wanted to escape from the hot kitchen, but something in her mother's +tone held her. + +Mrs. O'Brien swayed listlessly in her chair. "It's sick at me stomach +I'm feelin'. The smell o' the kitchen goes agin' me.... Rosie dear----" +Mrs. O'Brien broke off to look at Rosie a moment in silent appeal. +"Rosie dear, do ye think just for tonight ye could cook the supper for +me? I hate to ask you--I do that, for ye've had a hard day of it with +poor wee Geraldine fretting her life away. And I'm not forgetting that +ye helped me this noon. I wouldn't be asking another thing of you today +if I could help it, but I'm clean tuckered out ironin' them last +shirt-waists for Ellen, and I tell ye, Rosie, I feel like I'd faint if I +thried to stand up in front of that stove." + +Tears of self-pity came to Rosie's eyes and she wanted to cry out: "And +what about me? Don't you suppose I'm tired, too?" But the sight of her +mother's face going suddenly pale and of her hands beginning to shake, +checked her, and she said, quietly enough: "All right, Ma, I will. You +take Geraldine and go out in front. Maybe it's a little cooler there." + +Mrs. O'Brien started off, murmuring gratefully: "Ah, Rosie dear, ye're a +darlint and I don't know what I'd do without you!" + +Rosie, left to herself, instead of taking comfort at thought of her own +nobility of conduct, leaned miserably against the kitchen door and burst +into tears.... "I don't see why I always got to do all the disagreeable +things in this house, and I always do got to, too! I--I--I'm tired, I +am!" + +She sobbed on awhile brokenly, then slowly dried her eyes, for it was +half-past five and time to set to work for supper. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +CRAZY WITH THE HEAT + + +Rosie was spoken of in the family as a good cook, but this afternoon +there was so little of any housewifely pride left in her that she fried +the potatoes as carelessly as Ellen would have fried them, and she +scorched the ham. She set the table after some fashion, and then, when +all was ready, went through the house calling, "Supper's ready! Supper's +ready!" + +As the family straggled in, Rosie went on to her next duty of putting +George Riley's supper into a tin pail. + +"Better hurry," Terence warned her. "You'll be missing Jarge's car." + +"I can't hurry any faster," Rosie murmured; but she did, nevertheless, +snatch up the pail and start off. + +It seemed to her the street was even hotter and more breathless than the +smoky kitchen. The late afternoon sun was still beating down on +pavements and houses and people, fiercely, unceasingly, as it had been +since early morning, and all things alike looked worn and dusty and +utterly fatigued. Little shop-girls were trailing listlessly home, their +hats crooked, their black waists limp with perspiration, their hair +hanging about their pale faces in shiny, damp strings. Yet, tired as +they were, they were still attempting forlorn, giggly little jokes and +friendly greetings. + +One girl called out in passing: "Gee, Rosie, ain't this the limit?" +Another asked facetiously: "Well, kid, how does this weather suit you?" +and a third stopped her to exclaim breathlessly: "Say, Rosie, ain't you +just crazy with the heat!" + +Rosie reached the corner in good time for George's car. There was a +slight congestion in traffic and George had a moment or two before +dashing back to his place on the rear platform. He looked dirty and hot. +His collar was in a soft welt, his face streaked with dust and +perspiration. His expression, usually good-natured, was gloomy and +irritable. + +"What you got tonight?" he asked, lifting the lid of the pail. "What! +Ham again? Ham! What do you think I am? It's ham, ham, ham, every night +of the week till I'm sick and tired of it! Here! Take it back--I don't +want it! I'll buy me something decent to eat!" + +"Why, Jarge!" Rosie had never heard him talk that way before. She hadn't +supposed he could talk that way to her. The unexpectedness of it was +like a blow. For the first time in their acquaintance she shrank from +him. Her face quivered, her eyes filled with tears. "Why, Jarge!" she +stammered again. + +The motorman of George's car sounded his gong in warning and George, +without another word, dropped the pail at Rosie's feet and jumped +aboard. + +Rosie, dazed and crushed, stood where she was until the car disappeared. +At first she was too hurt to cry out; too surprised by the suddenness of +the attack to formulate her protest in words. One thing only was clear, +namely, that George Riley had failed her. She could never again believe +in him blindly, implicitly, as heretofore. There she had been supposing +him so much better than any one else, and he wasn't at all. Probably he +wasn't as good!... One little corner of her heart pleaded for him, +whispering that poor George must have forgotten himself for the moment +because, like the rest of the world, he was crazy with the heat. But +Rosie silenced the whisper by exclaiming passionately: "Even if he was, +I don't see why he had to go and take it out on me! I'm sure I'm not to +blame!" + +After a pause her heart again sought weakly to excuse him by suggesting +that perhaps Mrs. O'Brien did serve fried ham with a certain monotonous +regularity. Rosie was not to be taken in by that. "Well," she demanded +grimly, "what does he expect on a five-dollar-a-week board, with meat +the price it is! Lamb chops and porterhouse steak?" After that her heart +said nothing more, realizing, apparently, that so long as Rosie cared to +nurse her grievance, she could find reasons in plenty. And Rosie did +care to nurse it, and by the act of nursing soon changed it from a +feeling of bewildered woe to one of mounting indignation.... If George +Riley wanted to act that way, very well, let him do so. But he better +not think that she, Rosie O'Brien, would stand for any such treatment, +for she just wouldn't! + +At home she was able to explain quietly enough that George hadn't wanted +any supper. Jack at once called out: "Give me his ham! Aw, please, now, +Rosie, give it to me! Give it to me!" + +"No, Jackie, you're too little to have meat at supper," Rosie explained. +"This is for Terry. Here, Terry." + +Terence accepted the windfall with a gallant, "Thanks, Rosie." Then he +added: "But don't you want a piece of it yourself?" + +"No, Terry, I'm not hungry. Besides, ma has saved me a little piece." + +"And here it is, ye poor lamb." Mrs. O'Brien touched her affectionately +on the cheek. "Sit right down and eat it before Geraldine wakes. Ye've +hardly had a bite all day." + +Rosie took her place at the table and tried to eat. It was no use; and +suddenly, as much to her own surprise as to the others', she burst out +crying. + +"Mercy on us!" Mrs. O'Brien threw up astonished hands. "What's happened +now?" + +"N-nothing," Rosie quavered, pushing her plate away and dropping her +head upon the table. + +"What's ailin' you, Rosie?" her father asked gently. + +"E-E-Ellen's got to do the dishes tonight. I-I-I'm too tired." + +"I'm awful sorry," Ellen began, "but tonight, Rosie, I got to go out +early. I got to go over to Hattie Graydon's for a note-book." + +"Note-book nuthin'!" Terence glared at Ellen angrily. "That's the way +you get out of everything, with your note-books and your Hattie Graydons +and your old business college! Listen here, Ellen O'Brien: you'll do +those dishes tonight or I'll know why!" + +"Huh!" snorted Ellen. "From the way you talk, a person would suppose you +were my father." + +"Wish I was your father for ten minutes--long enough to give you a good +beatin'!... Who do you think you are, anyway? A real live lady? +Everybody else in the family's got to work, but not you!" + +"Ah, now, Terry," Mrs. O'Brien expostulated, "you mustn't be talkin' +that way to your poor sister Ellen. She's got her own work to do at +school and I'm sure it's hard work, ain't it, Ellen dear?" + +"Say, Ma, you fade away!" Terence waved his hand suggestively. "What you +don't know about Ellen's a-plenty! Just look at her, the big lazy lump! +There she's been sitting in a comfortable cool room all day long with a +fan in one hand and a pencil in the other and her mouth full of +chewing-gum, pretending to study, and you and Rosie have been up here +in this hot little hole working like niggers. Aw, why do you let her +fool you? Why don't you make her do something?" + +Ellen, her head tossed high, appealed to her mother. "Ma, will you +please explain to Mr. Terence O'Brien that I'd be perfectly willing to +wash and wipe the dishes every night of my life if it wasn't for my +hands. If ever I'm to be a stenog, I've got to take care of my hands." + +"What about Rosie's hands?" Reaching over, Terence drew one out from +beneath Rosie's face and held it up. At that moment it was a pathetic +little hand, shaken by sobs and wet with tears, but its roughened skin +and short, stubby nails were evidence enough of the work that it did. + +"Well, what about them?" Ellen, at least, was unmoved by the exhibit. +"Rosie's not going to be a stenog, is she?" + +Terence almost choked in fury, but before he could find an answer +sufficiently crushing, his father spoke. + +"See here, Ellen, we've had talk enough. You'll be doing the dishes +tonight before you go after the note-book. That ends it." + +"Very well!" Ellen flounced out of the room, then flounced back. "But if +I don't get my certificate next month, you'll know whose fault it is!" + +"Ain't she the limit?" Terry addressed his inquiry to the gas-jet, and +small Jack, taking up the word, called after her: "Ellen, you're the +limit! You're the limit!" + +"Fie on you, Jackie!" Mrs. O'Brien said reprovingly. "You mustn't be +talkin' that way to your sister." + +But Jack, hopping about the kitchen like mad, kept shouting, "You're the +limit! You're the limit!" until there was a sudden wail from the front +of the house. + +"Now see what ye've done, ye naughty b'y! Ye've waked up Geraldine!" + +Jack subsided abruptly and Rosie, with a sigh, stood up. + +Her mother looked at her compassionately. "Sit where you are, Rosie +dear, and rest, and I'll take care of Geraldine." + +"No, I'll go." + +Rosie carried the child outside to the little front porch, where she +rocked and crooned in the gathering darkness until Geraldine grew quiet. +Then she put her to bed and later, at the proper time, gave her a last +bottle. After that Rosie's day was done. + +To be near Geraldine, Rosie was sleeping downstairs for the present, on +the floor of the front room. Just as George Riley got home she was ready +to retire. + +"Good-night, everybody," she said. + +George, looking a little sheepish, called after her: "Aren't you going +to kiss me good-night, Rosie?" + +Without turning back, Rosie made answer: "It's too hot to kiss." Then +she told herself grimly: "There, now! I guess that'll jar him! If he +thinks he can treat me like a nigger and then kiss me good-night, he's +mightily mistaken." She closed the door of the room with a determined +click and stood for a moment with her head high. Then she sank to the +floor, a very miserable little heap of a girl who sobbed to herself: +"But I wish he wasn't so mean to me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +A FEVERED WORLD + + +It was a sultry, oppressive night, hard enough for adults to endure and +fearfully weakening to teething babies. The next day the heat continued +and Geraldine fretted and drooped until Rosie was frantic with anxiety. + +"Rosie dear, you're all pale and thin," her mother remarked, and Janet +McFadden, looking at her affectionately, said: "Now, Rosie, why don't +you let me deliver your papers for a couple of days? You're fagged out." + +"No," Rosie said. "If you'll keep on coming over in the afternoon while +I'm away, that's help enough." + +"But, Rosie, I could do your papers easy enough. I know all your +customers." + +"'Tain't that, Janet. Of course, you know them. And I thank you for +offering, for it sure is the hottest time of the day. But it's my only +chance to get away from home for a little while and I think I'd just die +if I didn't go." + +So she went, as usual, though her feet dragged heavily and her eyes +throbbed with a dull headache. + +On the better streets the houses were tight shut to keep out the heat; +but the doors and windows of the tenements were open, and Rosie could +see the inside of untidy rooms where lackadaisical women lounged about +and dirty, whiny children played and wrangled. Hitherto Rosie's thrifty +little soul had sat in hard judgment on the inefficient +tenement-dwellers, but today she looked at them with a sudden +tenderness. + +Poor souls, perhaps if all were known they would not be altogether to +blame. Perhaps they, too, had once longed to give their babies the +chance of life that all babies should have. Perhaps it was their failure +in this, through poverty and ignorance, that was the real cause of their +apathy and indifference. Rosie felt that she was almost going that way +herself. Then, too, the husbands of many of these women were selfish and +brutal; and surely it was enough to break a woman's spirit to have the +man she had loved and trusted turn on her like a fiend. Rosie knew! + +Not that she herself was angry any longer with George Riley. Goodness, +no! It wasn't a question of anger. She simply had no feeling for him one +way or another. How could she, when it was as if the part of her heart +he had once occupied had been cut out of her with a big, bloody knife! +She merely regarded him now as she would any stranger. She would be +polite to him--she tried always to be polite to every one--polite, yes; +but nothing more. So when she handed him his supper-pail that evening +at the corner, she said, "Good-evening." Common politeness required that +much, but she did not feel that it required her to hear or to understand +his plaintive, "Aw, now, Rosie!" as she turned from him. + +No! Without doubt all that should ever again pass between them was, +"Good-morning" or "Good-evening." And it was all right that it should be +so. She wouldn't have it otherwise if she could. She told herself this +as she walked home, repeating it so often that she quite persuaded +herself of its truth. Yet, when Terry happened upon her unexpectedly a +few moments later, he looked at her in surprise. + +"What's the matter, Rosie? What you cryin' about?" + +"N-nuthin'," Rosie quavered. "I--I guess I'm worried about Geraldine." + +"Aw, don't you worry about Geraldine," Terry advised kindly. "This +weather's got to break soon and then Geraldine'll be all right." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE STORM + + +Terry was right. The change came the very next afternoon. Rosie had +finished her papers and was on her way home when suddenly the wind rose +and great masses of black storm-clouds came driving across the sky. +Thunder rumbled, lightning crackled, and in a few minutes rain came +swishing down in great long, splashy drops. + +Instead of running for shelter, Rosie obeyed the impulse of the moment +and stood where she was. She clutched a lamp-post to keep from being +blown away, and then, turning her face to the sky, let the sweet, +comforting rain wash down upon her and soak her through and through. + +It was like a great, cool, refreshing shower-bath: it washed the dusty +earth clean once again; it brought back a crispness to the air; it +loosened the nervous tension under which all living things had been +straining for days. + +The clouds broke as suddenly, almost, as they had gathered. Watching +them, Rosie sighed and shivered. "Oh, but that was nice!" Her hair was +plastered over her head in loose, wet little ringlets, and her clothes +hung tightly about her body. When she walked, her old shoes oozed and +gurgled with water. She hurried home; yes, actually hurried, for it was +cool enough to hurry; and besides, her wet clothes were beginning to +chill her. + +Janet McFadden met her with shining eyes. "Oh, Rosie, what do you think? +She's asleep! And she's just took her bottle, too--all of it, without +waking up! Oh, I'm so happy!" + +Rosie looked at Janet affectionately. "You've been awful good, Janet, +helping me this way." + +"Good--nuthin'!" Janet scoffed. "Aren't you paying me good money?... +But, Rosie, listen here about Geraldine: I wouldn't be a bit surprised +if things'd be all right now. Those old teeth are certainly through. I +let her bite my finger on both sides, just to see." + +Perhaps Janet was right. Perhaps things were arranging themselves. +Rosie's heart sang a tremulous little song of happiness as she rubbed +herself dry and put on fresh clothes. The world wasn't such a bad place +after all, and the people in it weren't so bad, either. There was +Janet--good, kind Janet--and Terry, and nice old George Riley--Rosie +stopped short to scowl at herself in amazement. Then she repeated, +defiantly, _nice old George Riley_. For he _was_ nice! And he always had +been nice, too! What if he had forgotten himself once? Hadn't other +people as well? Hadn't everybody, Rosie herself included, been crazy +with the heat? + +As Rosie looked at things now her only surprise was that George hadn't +forgotten himself oftener! Come to think of it, he had kept his temper +better than any one else in the family.... Dear old George! Rosie wanted +to put her arms about his neck that instant and tell him how much she +loved him. + +Her first way of doing this was by saying to him as she handed him his +supper-pail at six o'clock: "Oh, Jarge, what do you think? Geraldine's +been asleep all afternoon!" This was a greeting very different from a +cold, "Good-evening, Jarge," and George would understand the difference. + +He did. His face beamed with understanding. "I'm awful glad, Rosie; +honest I am!" Then as he ran back to his car he called out: "Rosie, wait +up for me tonight. I've got something to tell you--something fine!" + +"All right, Jarge, I will!" Rosie spoke with all her old-time +enthusiasm, and waved him a frantic farewell. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A CHANCE FOR GERALDINE + + +After finishing her household duties and preparing Geraldine's last +bottle, Rosie had nothing more to do but to enjoy the cool of the +evening with the rest of the family. They were seated on the little +front porch, Mrs. O'Brien and Jamie on chairs and Terence on the porch +steps. Rosie took her place opposite Terence to await the arrival of +George Riley. + +In good time he came, bursting with his bit of news. "Hello, Rosie! +Hello, everybody!" he called out before he was inside the gate. He had a +letter in his hand which he waved excitedly in Rosie's face. + +"See this, Rosie? It's from mother; and what do you think? You and +Geraldine are to go out to the country for two weeks and maybe three! +What do you say to that?" + +For a moment Rosie had nothing to say. Then she gasped: "Why, Jarge, +what do you mean?" + +"And you're to start tomorrow, Rosie, on the eleven o'clock train, and +dad'll be at the station to meet you. You'll know him 'cause he looks +just like the farmers in the Sunday papers, with a big straw hat and +thin whiskers. And he drives an old white horse--Billy's his name." + +"Mercy on us, Jarge Riley, how you talk!" Mrs. O'Brien leaned forward in +excitement. "What's this ye're sayin'?" + +George laughed and started over again. "You see, Mis' O'Brien, Rosie and +me was talking the other day about babies and the country, and then +Geraldine began crying and I thought to myself, 'Well, I'll just write +to mother and see.' I wrote that morning, and here's the answer. The +postman gave it to me as I was starting out this afternoon." + +"That's it, is it?" Mrs. O'Brien seemed to understand perfectly. To +Rosie, however, the news still sounded too good to be true. + +"Jarge, do you mean your mother has invited Geraldine and me out to the +country for a couple o' weeks?" + +"Sure, that's what I mean. And you're to start tomorrow----" + +"Oh, Jarge, and can Geraldine sleep on the upstairs porch where the +breeze always blows and they's no mosquitoes or flies?" + +"O' course she can, and you can, too!" + +Rosie was laughing and crying together. "Do you hear that, Ma? She's +going to have a chance to sleep and get back her strength and then +she'll be able to pull over this horrible teething time, and then she +won't--she won't have to die!" + +Rosie put her arms about George's neck and covered his cheek with tears +and kisses. Then suddenly she paused. + +"But, Jarge, I don't know whether I can go! What about my papers?" + +George laughed. "Aw, let the papers go blow! Anyway, can't Janet +McFadden take them?" + +Rosie appealed to Terry. "Can she, Terry?" + +Terry nodded. "Sure she can. Don't you worry about those papers. Me and +Janet'll get on all right. You take Geraldine and skip off and stay away +as long as Mis' Riley wants you." + +George spread out his hands. "So you see, Rosie, everything's arranged. +You're to start tomorrow on the eleven----" + +"But, Jarge, wait a minute! We can't start tomorrow 'cause our things +aren't ready. A whole lot of Geraldine's clothes and mine, too, got to +be washed." + +"Can't you take 'em with you and wash 'em in the country?" + +"Oh, Jarge!" The suggestion was evidently a horrible one, for Mrs. +O'Brien and Rosie spoke together. + +George looked troubled. "But, Rosie, you got to start tomorrow. Didn't I +tell you that dad and Billy are going to drive down to meet you?" + +Mrs. O'Brien stood up. "Make your mind easy, Jarge. Rosie'll be ready on +time. I'll go in this minute and do that washin' now, and the things'll +be all dry and ready for ironin' by early mornin'." + +Rosie gasped. "Why, Ma, it's going on ten o'clock!" + +"Rosie dear, I don't care what o'clock it's going on. If it's the last +mortal thing I ever do for you, I'm going to do that washin' tonight, +for, if I do say it, ye're the best child that ever trod shoe-leather." + +Jamie O'Brien's tilted chair came down on the porch floor with a thud, +while Jamie remarked solemnly: "You're right, Maggie; she is!" + +Mrs. O'Brien moved toward the door. "Come on, Rosie dear, and help me +gather the things." + +Rosie started up, then paused to glance from one to another of them. In +the soft glow of the summer night she could see that they were all +looking at her with the same expression of love and tenderness. Rosie +choked. "I don't see why--everybody's--so kind--to me!" + +She turned back to George. "And I've been just horrible to you, Jarge! +You'll forgive me, won't you? I guess it was the weather." + +"Aw, go on!" George spoke with a gruffness that deceived nobody. "I +guess it's been the weather with all of us!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +HOME AGAIN + + +George Riley protested vigorously: "But I tell you she's only a little +girl and she's got a baby and a big basket and I don't know how many +other things and some one's just got to help her!" + +With anxious headshakes Terence and Janet McFadden corroborated all +George Riley said, but the gatekeeper was firm. "Only passengers this +side the fence," he repeated. + +So the three friends had to wait while the long train slowly disgorged. +Terence stood guard on one side of the gate, George Riley on the other, +while Janet pressed a tense searching face through the bars of the high +division fence. The first arrivals were the dapper quick young men with +new leather bags and walking-sticks who, in their eagerness to arrive, +always drop off a train before it stops. After them came more men and +the more agile of the women passengers. Then the general rush and crush: +the fussy people laden down with parcels; old ladies struggling to +protect their small handbags from the assaults of porters; distracted +mothers jerking their broods hither and thither; middle-aged men +murmuring to wives and daughters, "No rush! No rush! Plenty of time!" + +"Maybe she missed the train!" Janet McFadden suggested tragically. + +The crush subsided, the last stragglers passed through the gate, and +then, just as Janet remarked gloomily, "Well, I was perfectly sure she +wasn't coming!" a little girl with a baby in her arms alighted from a +coach far down the track and stood where she was while the conductor +piled the ground about her with boxes and parcels and baskets +innumerable. + +"There she is! There she is!" Janet and Terence cried out together. + +The gatekeeper looked at them a little less sternly. "Well, I guess you +can come in now." + +Janet dashed through the gate with her arms raised high, calling out a +joyful "Rosie! Rosie!" George Riley and Terence followed close on her +heels, and in a moment Rosie and the baby were enveloped in a cloud of +hugs and kisses. + +"Oh!" Rosie gasped, "but it's nice to be back! And I'm so glad to see +you all!... Here, Jarge, you take that heavy box and be awful careful. +It has jelly in it and canned fruit and I made them all myself, too! +Your mother taught me how.... You take the big basket, Terry. That's our +clothes. And I think you can take the basket of vegetables in the other +hand. Janet'll take that bundle, won't you, Janet? They's two dressed +chickens in it and I plucked them myself, too. Mis' Riley showed me how. +And you take the shoe-box, Janet. It's full of cookies. Hold it straight +so's not to break them.... I'll take that last basket in my other hand. +You can't guess what's in it, can they, Geraldine? It's Geraldine's +little pussy cat! We just couldn't leave it, could we, baby? Geraldine +named it herself. She named it Jarge." + +"After me, I suppose," George said, and they all laughed as if this were +a mighty fine joke. + +"Now are we ready?" Rosie asked, making a quick count of bundles and +baskets. "I'm not leaving anything, am I?" + +George groaned. "I should hope not! Tell you one thing: I can't carry +any more. Say, Rosie, what have you filled your jelly glasses with? +Rocks?" + +This was another fine joke and it carried them out of the station and +all the way to the cars. + +"Now watch me play the Rube," George whispered with a wink. When the +conductor came for their fares, George fumbled in his pocket, counted +the change laboriously, then asked for an impossible transfer. The +conductor tried patiently to explain, at which George slapped him on the +shoulder and roared out: "Aw, go on! I'm a railroad man myself!" At this +everybody laughed and the conductor and George became friends on the +spot. + +At the home corner, small Jack was waiting and, before Rosie was fairly +off the car, he was calling out excitedly: "Hello, Rosie! Hello! What +did you bring me from the country?" + +"Oh, you darling Jackie! I'm so glad to see you!" Rosie kissed him on +both cheeks, then answered his question. "A little turtle! It's in a box +at the bottom of the vegetable basket that Terry's carrying." + +Jack danced up and down in delight. "Oh, Rosie, can't I have it now? +Please!" + +"No, no, Jackie, you must wait till we get home." + +"Aw, Rosie, all right for you!" Jack looked at her reproachfully, then +shouted out: "Come on! Come on! Let's hurry home!" + +At home Mrs. O'Brien and Jamie were waiting for them with outstretched +arms. + +"Ah, Rosie," her mother exclaimed, with fluttering hands and streaming +eyes; "I'm that glad to see you, I'm weepin'! And will ye look at wee +Geraldine as fat and smilin' as a suckin' pig! Ah, Geraldine darlint, +come to yir own ma!" + +Jamie O'Brien, less demonstrative than his wife, patted Rosie's head +gently. "It's mighty glad I am to have you back. Why, do you know, +Rosie, since you've been gone there hasn't been a soul in the house to +hand me a pipe of an evening!" + +"You poor old Dad!" Rosie began sympathetically. She would have said +more but small Jack interrupted. + +"Now, Rosie, give me my turtle! You promised you would!" + +"Of course I did," Rosie acknowledged, "and I'll get it for you right +now. Here, Terry, let me have the vegetable basket." Rosie thrust her +hands among the onions and cabbages and drew out a small pasteboard box +generously pierced with air holes. + +"Here it is, Jackie dear." + +Jack pulled off the string, tore open the box, and gaped in wide-eyed +delight. "Oh, Rosie, thanks! thanks! It's a beaut!" For one moment mere +possession was enough, on the next came an overpowering desire to +exhibit his treasure before an admiring and envious world. + +"Say, Rosie, I got to run down and see Joe Slattery. I'll be back in a +minute." + +Mrs. O'Brien put out a detaining hand. "No, you won't be going down to +see any Joe Slattery! Dinner's ready and you'll be comin' in with the +rest of the family this minute. Come along, Rosie dear." + +Rosie paused. "Can't we keep Janet, Ma? Is there enough?" + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head emphatically. "Sure there's enough and, if +there ain't, we'll make it enough." + +"Thanks, Mis' O'Brien, but I don't believe I better stay." Janet spoke +regretfully. "You know my mother ain't very well these days and I don't +like to leave her alone too long." + +"Why, Janet!" Rosie looked at her friend in sudden concern. "Is your +mother sick?" + +Janet shook her head. "I don't know what's the matter with her. It seems +like the hot weather and the work and the worry have been too much for +her. But I'll be back, Rosie, at three o'clock for our papers. I got two +new customers, didn't I, Terry? And, Rosie, what do you think? Terry +gave me an extra nickel for each of them." + +Janet started off and Mrs. O'Brien exclaimed: "Now, then, for dinner! +All of yez!" + +"See you later, Rosie," George Riley remarked, opening the door of his +own room. + +Mrs. O'Brien called after him excitedly: "Why, Jarge lad, where's this +you're going? Aren't you sitting down with the rest of us?" + +"I ain't more than had my breakfast," George explained; "and I think I +better get in a little nap before I start out on my next run." He nodded +to Rosie, smiled, and shut his door. + +"Poor Jarge!" Mrs. O'Brien threw sympathetic eyes to heaven and sighed. + +Rosie looked at her mother quickly. "Is there anything the matter with +Jarge?" + +"Poor fella!" Mrs. O'Brien went on in the same lugubrious tone. "He's as +honest as the day and I'm sure I wish him every blessing under heaven. +Never in me life have I liked a boarder as much as I like Jarge. He's no +trouble at all, at all, and it was mighty kind of his mother inviting +you and Geraldine to the country. No, no, Rosie, you must never make +the mistake of supposing I'm not fond of Jarge!" + +"Ma," Rosie begged; "tell me what's the matter!" She stopped suddenly +and two little points of steel came into her blue eyes. "Is it Ellen? +Has she been doing something to him again?" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked grieved. "Why, Rosie, I'm surprised at you--I am +that, to hear you talk that way about your poor sister Ellen. And such a +bit of news as I've got about Ellen, too! Sit down now and, when I serve +you, I'll tell you." + +There was no hurrying Mrs. O'Brien and Rosie, knowing this, said no +more. At heart she gave a little sigh. It was as if a shadow were +overcasting the bright joy of her home-coming. She had arrived so full +of her own happiness that she had failed to see any evidence of the care +and worry which, she realized now, had plainly stamped the faces of her +two dearest friends. Poor Janet McFadden! For one reason or another it +had always been poor Janet. And now, apparently, it was to be poor +George Riley as well. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +GEORGE TURNS + + +"Now!" Everything was on the table and there was no further excuse for +Mrs. O'Brien's not seating herself. She dropped into a chair and beamed +upon Rosie triumphantly. "And just to think, Rosie dear, that you don't +yet know about Ellen! Ellen's got a job! She's starting in on eight +dollars a week and she's to go to ten in a couple of weeks if she's +satisfactory. And you know yourself that twenty dollars is nothing for a +fine stenographer to be getting nowadays. And twenty a week means eighty +a month and eighty a month means close on to a thousand a year! Now I do +say that a thousand a year is a pretty big lump of money for a girl like +Ellen to be making!" + +Mrs. O'Brien's enthusiasm was genuine but scarcely infectious. Terence +jerked his head toward Rosie with a dry aside: "She started work +yesterday on a week's trial." + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her son reprovingly. "Why, Terry lad, how you +talk! On trial, indeed! As if a trial ain't a sure thing with a girl +that's got the fine looks and the fine education that Ellen's got!" + +"Fine education--rats! I bet she knows as much about stenography as a +bunny!" + +His mother gazed on him offended and hurt. "Since you're such a wise +young man, Mister Terence O'Brien, perhaps you'll be telling us how much +you know about it, yourself." + +Terry's answer was prompt: "Not a blamed thing! But I tell you what I do +know: I know Ellen, and you can take it from me she's a frost." + +Rosie sighed plaintively. "But where does Jarge come in? What's the +matter with Jarge." + +Terence answered her shortly: "Oh, nuthin'. Ellen only played him one of +her little tricks last week and he's mad." + +"And I must say," Mrs. O'Brien supplemented, "Jarge does surprise me the +way he keeps it up. After all, Ellen's only a young girl and he ought to +remember that every young girl makes a mistake now and then." + +"What mistake did she make this time?" Rosie spoke as quietly as she +could. + +"It's a long story," her mother said. "Since you've been gone she met a +fella named Finn, Larry Finn, and we all thought him very nice, he was +that polite with his hair always brushed and shiny and smooth. He had a +good job downtown----" + +"You know his kind, Rosie," Terry interposed; "a five dollar a week +book-keep--silk socks but no undershirt. Oh, he was a great sport! Ellen +was crazy about him." + +"Terence O'Brien, have ye no manners to be takin' the words out of yir +own mother's mouth! Now hold yir tongue while I explain to Rosie." +Terence subsided and Mrs. O'Brien started in afresh: "Well, as I was +saying, this Finn fella took a great fancy to Ellen and was coming +around every night to see her. He took her to the movies and gave her +ice-cream sodas and they were getting on fine. Then last week he was +going to take her to the Twirler Club's Annual Ball." + +"The Twirlers' Ball!" Rosie looked at her mother questioningly. + +That lady waved a reassuring hand. "Oh, the ball was all right this +year--perfectly nice and decent. Ellen found out about it beforehand. +Not like last year! No drunks was to be allowed on the floor and none of +them disgraceful dances. Oh, if it had been like last year, I'd never +have consented to Ellen's going! You know that, Rosie!" + +"Huh!" grunted Terry. + +His mother paid no heed to him. "As I was saying, Rosie, the night +before the ball, Larry had to come excusing himself because they had +just told him he would have to stay working till all hours the next +night. So there was poor Ellen, who might have had her pick a week or +two earlier, left high and dry at the last moment. I tell you, Rosie, it +would have wrung your heart to see the poor girl's disappointment. A +girl of less spirit would have given up, but not Ellen. Ellen was going +to that ball and you know how firm Ellen is once she makes up her mind. +So she just asked Jarge Riley to take her." + +"Ma! Do you mean to say she had the cheek to ask poor Jarge after the +way she's been treating him all these months!" + +"Ah, ah, don't look at me that way, Rosie! Of course I mean it. Why +shouldn't she ask him? He's a nice fella and, besides that, he's a +friend of the family." + +"Say, Terry, what do you know about that?" Rosie appealed to her brother +sure that he, at least, would understand the humiliation she felt both +at Ellen's manoeuvre and at their mother's calm acceptance of it. + +Terry did understand and gave her the sympathy of a quick nod and a +short laugh. "What do you expect? You know Ellen." + +"Well, all I got to say is: it's a shame!" Tears of indignation stood in +Rosie's eyes. "She treats him like a dog and then, when it suits her, +she makes use of him. It's an outrage--that's what it is! I suppose he +went, of course. Poor Jarge is so easy." + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head. "Sure he went. He didn't want to at first +because he didn't like Ellen mixing up with the Twirlers. When she +insisted, he said, all right, he'd go." + +"Is that all?" Rosie asked. + +"All!" echoed her mother. "Bless your heart, no! It's hardly the +beginning!" + +Rosie sighed. + +"Aw, Ma," Terry protested, "look at you! You're tiring Rosie all out and +it's only her first day home. Why don't you spit it out quick?" + +"Terry, Terry, that's not a nice way to talk, telling your poor ma to +spit it out! Shame on you, lad, for using such a word!" + +"Well, what happened at the ball?" Rosie begged. + +"I was coming to that, Rosie dear, when Terry interrupted me. As I was +saying, who showed up at the ball quite unexpected-like but Larry Finn. +When Ellen saw Larry she turned to Jarge and says to him that, if he +wanted to go home early, he needn't wait for her, that Larry would take +care of her." + +"Oh, Ma!" Rosie's eyes grew bright and her cheeks a deeper pink. "Do you +mean to say after letting poor Jarge take her and pay her admission she +turned around and treated him like that!" + +Mrs. O'Brien lifted disclaiming hands. "Mind now, I'm not trying to +defend Ellen, but I do say she's only a young girl and young girls make +mistakes now and then." + +"Well,"--Rosie tried to speak quietly--"what did Jarge do?" + +"What did Jarge do? Something awful! Now remember, Rosie dear, I'm not +trying to run Jarge down. He's a nice fella and he's a kind fella and +I've never had a boarder that was so easy to please and, as I've told +you before, it was mighty good of him having his mother invite you and +Geraldine to the country. But I must say he did act something scandalous +that night." + +Mrs. O'Brien paused to shake her head impressively and Rosie, in +desperation, appealed to Terence. "Tell me, Terry, what did he do?" + +Terry grinned. "What did he do? Why, he laid for Larry Finn and, when +Larry and Ellen came out, he punched Larry's face for him!" + +"It was something awful!" Mrs. O'Brien again declared. "Every day for a +week poor Larry had to carry a black eye with him down to the office. +And you know yourself the way other men laugh at a black eye. And he's +not been here to see Ellen since and Ellen's awful mad and, besides +that, no one else has been coming, for the word has gone out that +Jarge'll kill any fella that's fool enough to be showin' his face." + +"Well, it's just good for her, too!" Ellen's unexpected plight was the +one thing in the whole situation that gave Rosie any satisfaction. +However, she gloated on it only for a moment. "But about Jarge, +Terry--did he get pulled in that night?" + +Terry shook his head. "No. You see the ball was ending up in a +free-for-all, just like the Twirlers always do, and the cops were so +busy inside that there was no one left to pay any attention to a little +thing like Jarge's scrap." + +"And I must say," Mrs. O'Brien continued, "I'm sorry for that poor Larry +Finn, for it wasn't his fault at all, at all. It was Ellen's own +arrangement." + +"That's so," Rosie agreed. "By rights Ellen's the one that ought to have +got beat up." + +"Why, Rosie, I'm surprised to hear you say such a thing and about your +own sister, too!" + +Mrs. O'Brien's surprise was lost upon Rosie, who was looking intently at +her father. "Say, Dad, what do you think of a girl doing a trick like +that on two decent fellows?" + +Jamie O'Brien, who had said nothing up to this, took a drink of tea, +wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and slowly cleared his +throat. "It's me own opinion, Rosie, it's a very risky game that Ellen's +playing." + +"Risky? It's worse than risky: it's dishonest." + +Rosie started to push back her chair, but her mother stretched out a +detaining hand. "Wait a minute, Rosie. You haven't yet heard what I'm +trying to tell you." + +Rosie's eyes opened wide. "Is there any more?" + +"To be sure there is, Rosie. You've only heard the beginning." + +Rosie dropped back in her chair a little limply. What more could there +be? + +Mrs. O'Brien breathed hard and long; she sighed; she gazed about at the +various members of her family. At last she spoke: + +"I don't know what's come over Jarge since that night. You know yourself +what an easy-going young fella he's always been, never holding a grudge, +always ready to let bygones be bygones. Well, he's never forgiven Ellen +from that night on. He scowls at her like a storm-cloud every time he +sees her and last week, Rosie--why, you'll hardly believe me when I tell +you what he said to her last week. We were all sitting here at the +table: your poor da over there, and Terry in his place, and Jack beside +him, and meself here. Ellen made some thriflin' remark about how silly a +girl is to marry herself to one man when she might be going around +having a good time with half a dozen--nuthin' at all, you understand, +just the way Ellen always runs on, when, before I knew what was +happening, Jarge jumped to his feet and pounded the table until every +dish on it was rattlin'. 'That's how you feel, is it?' says he, glaring +at poor Ellen like a mad bull. 'Well, if that's your little game,' says +he, 'I've been a goat long enough. Not another thing will I ever do for +you, Ellen O'Brien, not another blessed cent will I ever spend on you +until you tell me you'll marry me and set the date. And what's more,' +says he, 'I'll give you one month from today to decide,' says he. 'I'll +be going back to the farm in September,' says he, 'so it's time I knew +pretty straight just where we stand. So no more foolin', me lady,' says +he. 'It's to be yes or no to Jarge Riley and that's the end of it.'" + +"Good for Jarge! Good for Jarge!" Rosie cried, clapping her hands in +excitement. "He was able for her that time, wasn't he?" + +"Able for her, Rosie? Well, I must say it's a mighty strange way for a +young fella to talk that's courtin' a girl. Your own poor da never +talked that way to me, did you, Jamie dear? I wouldn't have stood it! I +give you me word of honour I wouldn't!" + +Terry chuckled and Rosie, glancing at her meek quiet little father, also +smiled for an instant. Then her face again went grave. + +"How did Ellen take it? Did she tell him once for all she'd never have +him?" + +"Bless your poor innocent heart, no!" Mrs. O'Brien was astonished at the +mere suggestion. "That'd be a strange thing for a girl to tell a man! Of +course, though, it ain't likely that Ellen ever will have him. Jarge is +all right, understand, but take Ellen with her fine looks and her fine +education and it's me own opinion that some of these days she'll be +making a big match. Especially now that she's going around to them +offices downtown where she'll be meeting lots of rich business men." + +"Of course, Ma, that's the way you look at it and the way Ellen looks at +it. Neither of you thinks of poor old Jarge one little bit." + +"Nonsense, Rosie. I like Jarge and so does Ellen. But you mustn't be +blaming a girl like Ellen for not throwing over a good useful beau like +Jarge until she's made sure of some one better. It's fine for Ellen to +have Jarge to fall back on." + +"To fall back on!" Rosie echoed. + +Jamie O'Brien slowly pushed away his chair and cleared his throat. "It's +me own opinion," he announced gravely, "that Jarge is too good for Ellen +by far." + +"You bet he is!" Rosie declared fiercely. + +Mrs. O'Brien looked hurt and grieved. "I don't see how you can all talk +that way about poor Ellen. Besides his other virtues, you'll soon be +telling me that Jarge is a good-looker!" + +"A good-looker!" Rosie cried. "Ma, how can you talk that way? His looks +are all right and Jarge himself is all right." + +Mrs. O'Brien fumbled a moment. "It's not that I meself object to his +looks, understand, but Ellen, being so fine looking herself, is mighty +particular. She likes them big and handsome and stylish and dressy." + +"Like Larry Finn," snickered Terry. + +Mrs. O'Brien pretended not to hear. + +Rosie, with sober quiet face, pushed back her chair and began clearing +the table. + +"No, no, not today, Rosie," her mother insisted. "You're not going to +start right off with dish-washing. You're company for one day at least, +ain't she, Jamie? So take Terry and Jack out in front and tell them +about the country. Jack wants to hear all about the pigs and cows, +don't you, Jackie dear?" + +"Not just now," Jack answered truthfully. "I got to go out and see a +fellow. But thanks for that turtle, Rosie." + +Rosie paused a moment in doubt until her father nodded encouragingly and +Terry, putting an arm about her shoulder, drew her away. + +"I sure am glad to see you home again," he said when they were alone. + +Rosie looked up at him affectionately. "And I'm glad to be home, Terry. +But I'm awful sorry about poor Jarge." + +"Don't you worry about Jarge," Terry advised. "If Ellen did take him it +would be the worst thing that ever happened him." + +"I know, Terry, but I can't bear to have him so unhappy." + +"Well, take it from me, he'd be unhappier if he got Ellen." + +Rosie paused a moment. "Say, Terry, is she worse since she's got a job?" + +Terry answered shortly: "She's the limit! She's making a bigger fool +than ever of ma. Wait till you see her tonight." + +"I don't want to see her. She always rubs me the wrong way and makes me +say things I don't want to say. But I do want to see poor old Jarge.... +Say, Terry, don't it beat all the way a good sensible fellow like Jarge +goes crazy over a girl like Ellen? How do you account for it?" + +Terry shook his head. "Search me." + +"They always do," Rosie continued. + +"Well, I tell you one thing, Rosie: I be blamed if ever I fall in love +with a girl that ain't nice!" Fourteen years old looked out upon the +world firmly and resolutely. "Not on your life!" + +"I wouldn't either, Terry, if I was you! 'Tain't sensible!" And twelve +years old shook her head sagely. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +DANNY AGIN ON LOVE + + +At three o'clock Janet appeared and Rosie and she started out together. +Rosie had been gone only three weeks but, in that short time, changes +had come about, events had occurred, which had altered irrevocably the +face of her little world. Within the limits of her own short paper route +the whole cycle of existence had turned. Life had been ushered in, life +had passed out, and that closest of human pacts which is the promise of +life to succeeding generations had been entered into. + +Janet McFadden was voluble. "It turned out to be twins at the +Flannigans, Rosie, and they just had an awful time. The doctor said that +poor Mis' Flannigan was too hard-worked before they came and that's why +they're so weak and sickly. Ain't it just tough the way poor little +babies have to pay up for things like that?... And you know about Jake +Mullane dying last week, don't you? It was sunstroke and I suppose he +had been drinking and he just went that quick. They certainly had a +swell funeral with six carriages and plumes and tassels on the horses +and Lucy and Katie and even the baby dressed in black. But doesn't it +kind of scare you, Rosie, to think of a big strong man like Jake being +dead and buried before you can turn around?... And, say, Rosie, I do +wish you had been here to see the wedding! It was just beautiful! Bessie +had a veil and pink roses and smilax and Ed Haskins hired three +carriages for the day. There were white ribbons on the whips and little +white bows behind the horses' ears. Maybe you think they didn't look +swell! They rode around town from ten o'clock in the morning until +midnight. Jarge Riley saw them coming home and he says they were lying +all over each other fast asleep. I'm not surprised at that, are you? +Bessie's in her own little flat now. It isn't any bigger than a soap-box +but she's got it all fixed up and pretty. She took me through and showed +me her dishes and everything. They furnished on twenty-five dollars down +and a dollar a week for a year. I guess Ed Haskins is going to be a good +provider all right...." + +Janet chatted on, pausing only to let people greet Rosie. Rosie's +progress that afternoon was something of a reception. Every one who saw +her stopped to call out: "Back again, Rosie? Awful glad to see you!" or, +"Hello, kid! How's the country?" It gave Rosie the very pleasant feeling +that she had been missed during her absence. + +At the end of the route when they came to Danny Agin's cottage, they +found old Mary Agin near the gate, busied over her flowers. At sight of +Rosie, she stood up, tall and gaunt, and held out welcoming hands. + +"Ah, Rosie dear, it's glad I am to see you! And himself will be glad as +well when he hears you're back." Mrs. Agin was an undemonstrative old +woman but she bent now and kissed Rosie on the forehead. + +"How is Danny, Mis' Agin?" Rosie asked. "Is he pretty well?" + +"Pretty well, do ye say? Ah, Rosie--" and Mary Agin paused while her +eyes half closed as if in pain. + +"I forgot to tell you," Janet whispered; "Danny's been awful sick." + +"And for two weeks," Mary Agin said, "the great fear was on me day and +night that he'd be shlippin' away and me left a sad lonely old woman +with nobody to talk to but the cat.... Will ye come in and see him, +Rosie? The sight of you will do him a world of good, for he's mighty +fond of you and he's been askin' for you every day. Just run along in +for a minute and say 'Howdy.' Janet'll wait out here with me." + +Rosie found Danny propped up at the bedroom window. The colour of his +round apple cheeks had faded, their plumpness had fallen in, but on +sight of Rosie the twinkle returned to his little blue eyes and he +raised a knotted rheumatic hand in welcome. + +"Is it yourself, Rosie O'Brien? Come over and give an old man a kiss +and tell him you're glad he's not dead yet." + +"Oh, Danny, don't talk that way," Rosie pleaded. She kissed his cheek, +which was rough with a stubby growth of beard, then stood for a moment +with her arms about his neck. + +"It's the merest chance that ye find me here," Danny said; "but now that +I am here I suppose I'll stay on awhile longer. But I almost got off, +Rosie. 'Twas Mary that pulled me back. Poor girl, she couldn't stand the +thought of not having some one to scold. 'Twould be the death of her." +Danny blinked his eyes and chuckled. + +"Danny, you oughtn't to talk that way about poor Mis' Agin!" Rosie shook +her head vigorously. "She loves you, Danny, you know she does!" + +"To be sure," Danny agreed. "'Whom the Lord loveth, He chases,' and Mary +has been chasin' me these forty years. But she's a good woman, +Rosie--oh, ho, I never forget that!" Danny paused a moment, then added +with a wicked little grin: "And if I was to forget it, she'd be on hand +herself to remind me of it!" + +As always, when they were alone, Danny was a good deal of the naughty +small boy saying things he should not say, and Rosie a good deal of the +helpless shocked young mother begging him to mind his manners. She +looked at him now sadly and yearningly. "Oh, Danny, I don't see how you +can talk that way and poor Mis' Agin's just been nursing you night and +day." + +"Pooh!" scoffed Danny. "Take me word for it, Rosie, when ye've been +married forty years, ye'll expect to be nursed night and day and no back +talk from any one. But, for love of Mike, darlint dear, let's talk of +something else! I've had nuthin' but Mary for the last couple of weeks. +Not another face have I seen and ye know yourself that Mary's face was +niver intinded for such constant use!" + +Rosie gasped and swallowed and tried hard to find some fitting reproof. +Failing in this she sought to distract her friend from further +indiscretions by changing the subject. "Hasn't Janet been in to see you, +Danny?" + +"Janet?" Danny spoke as though with an effort to recall the name. "Yes, +I suppose Janet has been in. I dunno." + +"Danny, I don't see how you could forget." + +"I don't forget but I don't just exactly remember." + +"Danny, you're always saying things like that and I don't know what you +mean. Either you remember or you don't remember and that's all there is +to it." Rosie looked at him severely. "I don't think it's a bit nice of +you to pretend not to remember Janet. She's my dearest friend and +besides that she's a very nice girl." + +Danny agreed heartily: "Oh, Janet's a fine girl--she is that! In +fact"--and Danny paused to make Rosie a knowing wink--"she might very +well be Mary's own child. Just look at the solemn face of her that hurts +when she laughs!" + +"Danny, Danny, you mustn't talk that way, and you wouldn't either if you +knew the hard time poor Janet has at home!" + +"Wouldn't I now? Don't I know the hard time poor Mary Agin has at home +and don't I say the same of her? Rosie, take me word for it, there are +some women are born for a hard time. They like it. Since Mary's been +waiting on me, hand and foot, she's been a happy woman. In the old days +when I was a spry, jump-about kind of man, making good money and no odds +from any one, Mary was a sad complainin' creature, always courtin' +disaster and foreseein' trouble. And look at her now: with a penny in +her pocket where she used to have a dollar and a cripple in a chair +instead of a wage-earnin' husband, and never a word of complaint out of +her mouth!" Danny ruminated a moment. "The rheumatiz has been pretty +hard on me, Rosie dear, but I tell you it's been the makin' of a happy +woman!" + +Close as they were to each other, Rosie was often in doubt as to the +exact meaning of Danny's little quirks of thought. She looked at him +now, trying to decide whether his remarks deserved reproof or +acceptance. Danny watched her with twinkling amusement. At last he burst +out laughing. + +"Ah, Rosie dear, don't trouble yir pretty little head for ye'll never +make it out! And, after all, what does it matter if ye don't? With you, +darlint, the only thing that matters is this: that it's yourself that +cheers a man's heart with your lovin' ways and your sweet pretty face." + +How Danny had worked around to this sentiment, Rosie could not for the +life of her tell. His words, however, suggested a question that called +for discussion. + +"It seems to me, Danny, you think all men like girls with loving ways." + +Danny's answer was prompt: "I do that, Rosie! You can take an old man's +word for it and no mistake." + +Rosie shook her head thoughtfully. "I don't see how you make that out. +Take Ellen now: she hasn't very loving ways; she snaps your head off if +you look at her; but she's got beaux all right--more than any girl on +the street, and poor old Jarge Riley's gone daft over her. Now how do +you make that out?" + +"Ah, that's a different matter," Danny explained airily. "You see, +Rosie, there be two classes of men, sensible men and fools, and most men +belong to both classes. Now a sensible man knows that a sweet loving +woman will make him a happy home and a good mother to his children. Any +man'll agree to that. So I'm right when I tell you that all men love +that kind of a woman, for they do. But let a bold hussy come along with +a handsome face on her and a nasty wicked temper, and before you count +ten she'll call out all the fool there is in a man and off he goes after +her as crazy as a half-witted rooster. Ah, I've seen it time and again. +Many a poor lad that ought have known better has put the halter about +his own neck! Have you ever thought, Rosie dear, of the queer ch'ices +men make when they marry?" + +"Danny, I don't know what you mean." + +Danny's eyes took on a far-away look. "Take Mary and me. For forty years +now I've been wonderin' what it was that married us." + +"Why, Danny!" Rosie's expression was reproachful. "Didn't you love +Mary?" + +"Love her, do you say? Why, of course I loved her! Didn't me knees go +weak at sight of her and me head dizzy? But the question is: why did I +love her or why did she love me? There I was a gay dancing blade of a +lad and Mary a serious owl of a girl that had never footed a jig in her +life and would have died of shame not to have her washin' out bright and +early of a Monda' mornin'. Now what was it, I ask you, that put love +between us?" + +Danny appealed to his young friend as man to man. Rosie, however, was +not a person to grant the purely academic side of any question that was +perfectly clear and matter-of-fact. + +"Why, you loved her, Danny, and she loved you and that's all there was +to it." + +For a moment Danny looked blank. Then he chuckled. "Strange I didn't +think of that before!" His eyes began to twinkle. "I'll wager, Rosie +dear, ye've never lain awake o' nights wondering what it was that made +the world go round, have you now?" + +Rosie's answer was emphatic: "Of course not! I'm not so silly!" + +Danny laughed. "I thought not." + +Rosie went back to serious matters. "But, Danny, I can't understand +about Jarge Riley and Ellen. Why is he so crazy about Ellen?" + +Danny drew a long face. "The truth is, I suppose he loves her." + +"But why does he love her?" + +Danny's eyes opened wide. "Is it yourself, Rosie O'Brien, that's askin' +me why?" + +"I don't understand it at all," Rosie continued. "I've got a mind to +give Jarge a good talking to. He just ought to be told a few things for +his own good." + +"I'm sure he'll listen to you." There was a hint of guile in Danny's +voice but Rosie refused to hear it. + +"He always does listen to me. We're mighty good friends, Jarge and +me.... Yes, I'll just talk to him tonight. I'll put it to him quietly. +Jarge has got lots of sense if only you talk to him right." + +"Of course he has," Danny agreed. "And, Rosie dear, I'm consumed with +impatience to hear the outcome of your conference. You won't fail to +stop in and tell me about it tomorrow--promise me that!" + +Rosie promised. She bid her old friend good-bye and left him, her mind +already full of the things she would say to George Riley. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +ELLEN + + +"I don't know what's keepin' poor Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien remarked as the +family gathered at supper that evening. "They're awful busy at them +down-town offices, I'm thinkin'. Ellen was expectin' to be home at six +o'clock sharp but something important must have come in and they need +her. Ah, say what you will, a poor girl's got to work mighty hard these +days." + +"Huh!" grunted Terry. + +There was a slam at the front door, at sound of which Mrs. O'Brien's +face lighted up. "Ah, there she is now, the poor dear!" + +Yes, it was Ellen. She swept at once into the kitchen and stood a moment +glowering on the family with all the blackness of a storm-cloud. Then, +without a word, she flung herself into a chair. + +"Why, Ellen dear," her mother gasped, "what's ailin' you?" + +Beyond twitching her shoulders impatiently, Ellen made no answer. + +"How do you do, Ellen?" Rosie spoke formally, in the tone of one not at +all certain as to how her own civility would be received. + +Ellen glanced at her sharply. "Huh! So you're back, are you?" + +"Ellen, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien cried reprovingly, "is that the way you +talk to poor little Rosie and her just in from the country? And she +brought you two nice dressed chickens and a basket of fine fresh +vegetables and a box----" + +Ellen cut her mother short with an impatient, "Aw, Ma, you dry up!" + +"What's the matter, Ellen?" Terry drawled out. "Lost your job?" + +For answer Ellen snatched off her hat and flung it angrily into the +corner. + +"Ellen, Ellen!" Mrs. O'Brien cried. "Your new hat!" She started forward +to rescue the hat, then paused as the significance of Terry's question +reached her understanding. Her fluttering hands fell limp, her face took +on an expression at once scared and appealing. "Oh, Ellen dear, you +haven't lost your job, have you? Don't tell me you've lost your job!" + +Ellen scowled at her mother darkly. "You bet your life I've lost my job! +I wouldn't have staid in that office another day for a thousand dollars! +They're nothing but a set of old grannies--every one of them!" + +"Oh, Ellen!" Mrs. O'Brien dropped back helplessly into her chair. A look +of overwhelming disappointment settled on her face; her mouth quivered; +her eyes overflowed. "Oh, Ellen," she repeated, "how does it come that +ye've lost it?" + +"Well, I guess you'd have lost it, too!" Ellen glared about the table +defiantly. "Any one would with that old fogy, old man Harrison, worrying +you to death with his old-maidish ways. He thinks people won't read his +old letters if every word ain't spelled just so and every comma and +period put in just right. The old fool! I'd like to know who cares about +spelling nowadays! I did one letter over for him today six times and the +sixth copy he tore up right in front of my face for nothing at all--a +t-h-e-i-r for a t-h-e-r-e and a couple of little things like that. I +tell you it made me hot under the collar and I just up and told him what +I thought of him." + +"Ellen!" Mrs. O'Brien gasped weakly. + +"Well, I did!" Ellen repeated. "I just says to him, 'Since you're so +mighty particular, Mr. Harrison, I don't see why you don't do your own +typing!'" Ellen stood up and, indicating an imaginary Mr. Harrison, +showed her family the pose she had taken. + +"Well," asked Terry, "what did he say?" + +"What did he say? He flew off the handle and shouted out: 'There's one +thing sure: I'll never have you type another letter!' Just that way, as +if I was nothing but an old errand boy! And after I had just done over +his old letter for him six times, too!" Aggrieved and injured, Ellen +appealed to her father: "Say, Dad, what do you know about that?" + +Jamie O'Brien slowly cleared his throat. "Is that the way they teach you +at the Business College to talk to your employer?" + +The reproof in Jamie's words was entirely lost upon Ellen. She tossed +her head scornfully. "Oh, us girls are on to his kind all right! We give +it to them straight from the shoulder! That's the only way to treat +'em--the fussy old women! Then they respect you!" + +"Ellen, Ellen, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien wailed forlornly, "what makes you +talk that way?" + +Terence drew Ellen back to her story: "Well, Sis, after that, what did +you say and what did he say?" + +Ellen's ill humour was fast disappearing. Under the magic of her own +recital, she was beginning to see herself in a new and flattering light. +Instead of the inefficient stenographer who, a few moments before, had +sought to hide her discomfiture in a bluster of abuse, she was now a +poor deserving working-girl who had been put upon by an unscrupulous +employer. Conscious of her own worth and made courageous by that +consciousness, she had been able, it now seemed to her, to hold her own +in a manner which must excite the admiration of her family. + +"Well, when he used such language to me, I saw all right what kind of a +man he was and I just gave it to him straight. 'I see what you're +after,' I says to him. 'You think you're going to bounce me before my +week's up and you think I'm so meek that I'll leave without saying a +word! But I just won't!' I says to him. 'You hired me for a week and if +you think you can throw me out without paying me a week's salary, you're +mighty mistaken! I've got a father,' I says to him, 'and he'll make it +hot for you!'" + +Upon Mrs. O'Brien at least the effect of the story was almost +terrifying. "Ellen, Ellen," she wailed, "what makes you talk so? You +didn't really say that to the gentleman, did you?" + +"I didn't, eh?" Ellen tossed her head defiantly. "You just bet I did!" + +"Then what did he say?" It was Terry who again asked the question that +would help the narrative on. + +Ellen smiled triumphantly. "He had nothing more to say to me. He just +called the book-keeper over to him and says: 'Pay this young woman a +week's wages and let her go.' Yes, that was every word he said. Then, +without even looking at me, he turned his back and began sorting the +papers on his desk. Fine manners for a gentleman, I say!" + +Before she finished, every member of the family had looked up in quick +surprise. + +"Do you mean," Mrs. O'Brien quavered, "do you mean, Ellen dear, that he +paid you?" + +Ellen glanced at her mother scornfully. "Of course I mean he paid me! +Here!" She opened her handbag and exhibited a wad of bills. "One five +and three ones! Pretty good pay for two days' work--what?" + +Mrs. O'Brien turned devout eyes to heaven. "Thank God, Ellen dear, he +paid you! I was a-fearin' all your hard work was going for nuthin'! +Thank God, you'll be able to start in this week payin' your board like +you intended." + +Ellen looked at her mother coldly. "Say, Ma, what do you think I am? I +told you I'd begin paying three dollars a week as soon as I got a good +steady job. Well, have I got a good steady job? No. In fact, I'm out of +a job. So you'll just have to wait like everybody else." + +"But, Ellen dear,"--Mrs. O'Brien stretched out an appealing, indefinite +hand--"what's this you're saying when you've got the money right there? +It's only Tuesda' now and if you start out bright and early tomorrow +hunting a new job, what with your fine looks and your fine education, +you'll be sure to land one by the end of the week. And then, don't you +see, there won't be any break in your payroll at all." + +Ellen waved her mother airily aside. "Say, Ma, you don't know anything +about it. If you think I'm going to start out again tomorrow morning, +you make a mighty big mistake. I'm going to take a couple of days off, I +am. I think I deserve them. I guess I've earned my living for this week. +Besides, I've got some shopping to do. I need a new hat and a lot of +things." + +"A new hat, Ellen? What's this ye're sayin'? Why, ye've not been wearing +this last one a day longer than two weeks. It's a beautiful hat if ye'd +not abuse it." Mrs. O'Brien lifted it carefully from the floor where it +still lay and held it up for general inspection. "Why, Ellen, ye don't +know how becomin' it is to you. Just the other morning, while I was +shelling peas, Jarge Riley says to me----" + +"Just cut out George Riley!" Ellen interrupted sharply. "I don't care +what George Riley says! I'm going to get some decent clothes and that's +all there is about it!" + +Terry grunted derisively. "Say, Rosie, ain't we winners?" + +Ellen flushed, conscious for the first time of Terry's disapproval. She +looked at him angrily, then turned to her mother. "Now, Ma, just listen +to that! He's always nagging at me and you never say a word!" + +"Terry, Terry," Mrs. O'Brien murmured wearily, "why do ye be talkin' +that way of your own sister? The next time she gets a job, I'm sure +she'll begin payin' board the first thing, won't you, Ellen dear?" + +"Say, Ma, you and Ellen are a team." Terry eyed his mother meditatively. +"You take her guff every time. Not a day goes by that she don't pay you +dirt, but you keep on trusting her just the same." + +"Ah, Terry lad, how can you talk so? Perhaps Ellen has made a few +mistakes, but you oughtn't to forget she's your own sister." + +"I don't." Terry spoke shortly and rose from his chair. "Come on, Rosie, +no use hanging around here any longer." + +Rosie hesitated. "I think I'll wait to do the dishes first. Ma's all +tired out." + +"Indeed, and you'll do no such thing!" Mrs. O'Brien declared. "You're +company for today, Rosie, so make the most of it." + +"Ellen will do the dishes, won't you, Ellen dear?" Terry spoke +facetiously with his mother's intonation. + +"Of course Ellen will," Mrs. O'Brien said. "I'm sure she will, for if +she's not working tomorrow she'll not be having to save herself." + +Rosie, willing to accept this assurance, allowed Terry to draw her away +from the kitchen and out to the little front porch. "But you know, +Terry, of course she won't." + +Terry laughed a little grimly. "Of course not!" He paused a moment in +thought. "Say, Rosie, don't it beat all the way she goes along doing +just as she pleases? Hardly any one calls her bluff. I can see just how +it was in that office today. She put up such an ugly fight that they +were glad to shell out an extra five spot that she hadn't begun to earn +just to get rid of her. And look at her here at home. She wouldn't hand +out a nickel to the rest of us if we were starving. She'd spend it on +an ice-cream soda for herself." + +Rosie sighed. "I don't mind about us. We can take care of ourselves. But +poor old Jarge Riley, Terry. Living right here with us wouldn't you +suppose he'd get to know her?" + +"Well,"--Terry spoke in a tone somewhat didactic--"you forget one thing, +Rosie: Jarge is in love." + +"But why is he in love?" Rosie persisted. + +Terry shook his head gloomily. "Search me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +ROSIE URGES COMMON SENSE + + +"Why is he in love?" + +The question kept repeating itself to Rosie as she sat on the porch +steps while day slowly faded and twilight deepened into night. Mrs. +O'Brien and Jamie came out after a time and Rosie talked to them about +the country, telling them of all the marvels of farm and roadside. But +through it all her mind kept reverting to the problem which had met her +so promptly on her return. + +"When you know Mis' Riley," she told her mother, "then you understand +Jarge from start to finish. She's jolly and kind and she'll do anything +in the world for you if she likes you. And, my! how she works! Jarge's +father is all right, but all he does is talk. No matter what there is to +do, he always wants to stop and talk. In the mornings he just nearly +used to drive Mis' Riley and me crazy. I can tell you we were always +busy and he ought to have been, too, and he did used to get real tired +just talking about all he had to do. Of course Grandpa Riley was awful +good to me and Geraldine and I don't like to say anything about him, but +I understand now why Jarge has to save so hard and why poor Mis' Riley +has to work so hard. And I know one thing: when Jarge does go back to +the farm and take hold of things, he and his mother'll make that old +farm pay. They're not afraid of hard work, either of them, and they've +both got good sense, too.... Say, Dad, what do you think of Ellen the +way she treats Jarge?" + +"Ellen?" Jamie O'Brien's tilted chair came down with a thud and Jamie +cleared his throat to answer. "How would you want her to be treating +him?" + +"Well, I don't want her to treat him like a dog! Jarge is too good!" + +"Don't you be worryin' about Jarge," Jamie advised. "It's just as well +for him that Ellen does treat him so." To Rosie this seemed a subject +for further discussion, but not to Jamie. He balanced back his chair and +relapsed into an abstracted silence from which Rosie's protests were +unable to arouse him. + +It had been a long and exciting day and Rosie was tired. If she had not +felt that George would be expecting to see her when he got in from his +run, she would have said good-night early and slipped quietly off to +bed. But George would be expecting her. In the morning they had had very +few words together and Rosie knew that there were a hundred things about +the farm and about his mother that George wished to hear. So she stifled +her yawns and waited. + +Talk flickered and went out. At last Jamie O'Brien tapped his pipe on +the porch rail and, going in, said: "Good-night, Rosie. It's mighty fine +to have you back." In a few moments Mrs. O'Brien followed Jamie and +Terry followed her. + +One by one the street noises grew quiet. Mothers' voices called, +"Johnny!" "Katie!" "Jimmie!" and children's voices answered, "All right! +I'm a-comin'!"; doors slammed; lights began to twinkle in bedroom +windows. Rosie's little world was preparing for sleep. Every detail of +that world was familiar to her as her mother's face. Like her mother's +face, heretofore she had taken it for granted. Tonight, coming back +after a short absence, she saw it anew with all the vividness of fresh +sight and all the understanding of lifelong acquaintance. It was her +world and, with a sudden rush of feeling, she knew that it was hers and +that she loved it. Now that she was back to it, already her weeks in the +country seemed far off and vague.... Had she ever been away? + +George came at last. He looked thin and worn and he seated himself +quietly with none of his old-time gaiety. + +"Well, Rosie," he began, "how does it seem to be back?" + +Rosie sighed. "I had a beautiful time in the country, Jarge, but I'm +glad to be back--honest I am." + +"But don't you miss the quiet of the country? I don't believe you'll be +able to sleep tonight with all the noise." + +Rosie laughed. "Jarge, you're like all country people. You think the +country's quiet and it's not at all. It's fearfully noisy! It's like +living on a railroad track! Why, do you know, the first night I was +there, I was hours and hours in going to sleep--I was so scared!" + +"Scared, Rosie? What were you scared about?" + +"The racket that was going on. I didn't know what it was at first. Then +Grandpa Riley came out and told me it was only the locusts and the +tree-toads and the frogs. For a long time, though, I didn't see how it +could be." + +George lay back and laughed with something of his old abandon. "If that +don't beat all! So they scared you, Rosie?" + +"And chickens, Jarge! Why, chickens are the noisiest things! If they are +not squabbling with each other, they're talking to themselves! And +ducks--ducks are even worse! Jarge, do you know, I call a street like +this quiet compared to the country!" + +George's laugh grew heartier. "If that ain't the funniest thing I ever +heard!" + +"It's true, Jarge!" Rosie was very serious but her seriousness only +added to George's mirth. + +"All right, kid, have it your own way. But it's kind of a new idea: the +city's quiet and the country's noisy, is that it?" + +"Oh, I don't say the city's exactly quiet." Rosie picked her words +carefully. "All I mean is, you don't notice the noises in the city like +you do the noises in the country. The city noises are not such strange +noises." + +"Oh! That's it, is it? I see!" and George slapped his knee in lusty +amusement. + +"Jarge," Rosie began slowly, "there's something I want to talk to you +about." + +"Well, here I am. There'll never be a better time." + +"It's about Ellen, Jarge." + +George's laugh stopped abruptly. + +"I don't like to say anything about her, Jarge, because she's my own +sister...." Rosie paused and sighed. "You're in love with her, Jarge, +aren't you?" + +"Yes, Rosie, I'm afraid I am. And I'm afraid I've got it bad, too." + +"Jarge dear, tell me one thing: why are you in love with her?" + +George shook his head. "Search me. I don't know." + +"But, Jarge, she ain't the kind of girl you ought to be in love with." + +"That so?" George's voice showed very little interest. + +"Why, you ought to be in love with a nice girl, Jarge--I mean a girl +that would love you and pet you and save your money and take good care +of you. That's the kind of girl you want, Jarge." + +"Is it?" George's tone was still apathetic. + +"Sure it is. Now, Jarge, look at the whole thing sensibly. What do you +want with a girl like Ellen? She doesn't think of any one but herself +and all she's after is getting beaux and spending money. What would you +do with her if you had her? Why, she'd clean out your savings in two +weeks, and then where would you be and where would your mother be and +where would the farm be?" + +George sighed heavily. "I suppose you're right, Rosie, but that don't +seem to make any difference. I don't know why I want her, but I do. I +want her so bad I lay awake nights and I ain't never laid awake before +in my life. No use talking, Rosie, it's Ellen or no one for me." + +"But, Jarge dear, why can't you be sensible? You're sensible in other +things." + +"See here, Rosie, you don't know what you're talking about!" George +spoke sharply but not unkindly. "A fellow don't fall in love with a girl +because he wants to or because he ought to or because she'd make him a +good wife. I don't understand why he does; I don't know a thing about +it. He just does and that's all there is to it!" + +"But, Jarge," Rosie persisted, "if he knows it ain't best for him, I +should think he just wouldn't let himself fall in love." + +"Didn't I just tell you a fellow himself has nothing to do with it!" +For a moment George lost his temper, then he laughed a little +sheepishly. "I don't blame you, Rosie, for not understanding. It sounds +terrible foolish and I guess it is foolish. But it's how we're made and +that's all there is about it. Some of these days you'll get caught +yourself and then you'll understand." + +George reached over and gave Rosie's hand a confidential little squeeze. +Rosie did not return the pressure. She even drew her own hand away a +little coldly. + +"It's all very well, Jarge Riley, for you to pretend that falling in +love is so terribly mysterious, but I want to tell you one thing. I know +better! It's as common as onions! Why, everybody does it! I guess I've +seen 'em--out in the parks and on the street and in the cars and +everywhere! And, besides that, I can tell you something else: if they'd +only use a little common sense when they are in love they wouldn't make +such fools of themselves. Yes, Jarge Riley, and you're just the very +person I mean! There you are, wanting to make love to Ellen and what do +you do? The very things that make her laugh at you! If you'd use one +grain of common sense you'd get on with her as well as the rest of the +fellows. But no, says you, a man can't possibly use common sense in +love! Jarge Riley, you're as silly as a chicken and what's more, since +I've been in the country, I know exactly how silly chickens are!" + +"Why, Rosie!" George was too much taken back by Rosie's tirade to do +more than gape in helpless astonishment. + +"I mean just what I say!" Rosie assured him severely. "I was sorry for +you at first, but now I don't pity you at all. If you're going to be +stubborn, you don't deserve to be pitied." + +"Well, Rosie, what do you want me to do?" + +George's tone was so conciliatory that Rosie's manner softened. "All I +ask you, Jarge, is to be sensible." + +George sighed and laughed. "Sounds easy, don't it? Now you think it +would be sensible for a farmer like me not to think any more about a +girl like Ellen. That's it, ain't it?" + +Rosie answered promptly: "Yes, Jarge, that would certainly be the most +sensible thing you could do." + +"Rosie, that's the one thing I can't do, whether I'd like to or not. I'm +sorry, though, because I don't want you to think I'm only stubborn." + +It was Rosie's turn to sigh. "You're an awful hard person to help, +Jarge. You pretend you're perfectly willing to be sensible, yet the +minute I tell you how you draw back." Rosie sighed again. + +"But at least, Jarge, you might be sensible in other things." She turned +on him with sudden energy. "And do you know, Jarge, if you were sensible +in other things, I think you might easy enough make Ellen like you! Why +not?" + +"Ain't I sensible in other things?" George spoke a little plaintively. + +"I should say not! Everything you do gives Ellen another chance to laugh +at you and make fun of you. Take the other night at the Twirlers' dance. +Now if you had gone about that thing right you could have made Ellen and +all the other girls just crazy about you. You needn't think Ellen +wouldn't like to have a beau that can lick everybody in sight. She +would. Any girl would. But all you did was make her mad." + +George groaned. His prowess at the Twirlers' was not a pleasant memory. +When he spoke, his tone was a little sullen. "What is it you want me to +do?" + +"I only want you to act sensible." + +"Well, then, tell me this: how's a born fool to act sensible?" + +"When he don't know how to act sensible himself," Rosie answered, +"there's only one thing for him to do and that is to take the advice of +some one who does know." + +George laughed. "Meaning yourself, Rosie?" + +"Sure I mean myself. I don't mind saying that I consider myself very far +from a born fool. I'm not a bit ashamed of being sensible. Janet +McFadden always says that I'm not very smart but that I've got lots of +common sense. Danny Agin thinks so, too. He often consults me about +things." Rosie nodded complacently. + +George chuckled. "I'm with Janet and Danny all right. I always did swear +by you, Rosie!" + +"Then why don't you do as I tell you?" Rosie faced him squarely. "It +would be very much better for you!" + +For a moment George looked at her in affectionate amusement. Then his +face grew serious as her own. "All right, Rosie, I will. You're right: I +have made a bad mess of things with Ellen. It couldn't be worse. So +here's my promise: for the rest of the time I'm here, I'll do just +exactly as you say." + +Rosie beamed her approval. "And I promise you, Jarge, you won't be +sorry!" + +In all formality they shook hands over the bargain. + +"Now then," George began briskly, "what's the first thing I'm to do?" + +Rosie hesitated. "I haven't exactly thought it out yet." + +"Huh! So it ain't so awful easy even for you to be sensible!" He peeped +at her slyly. + +"I want to think things over carefully," Rosie explained, "and I want to +ask Danny Agin's advice." George gave a grunt of protest, so Rosie +hastened to add: "Of course I won't use your name. I'll just put the +case to Danny in a sort of general way and, before he guesses what I +really mean, he'll be telling me what I want to know. Oh, I wouldn't +mention your name for anything!" + +George chuckled. "I'm sure you wouldn't!" He stood up. "Well, +good-night, kid. It's time for both of us to get to bed. And say, Rosie, +I'm awful glad you're back. I've had a bad time since you've been gone. +Everything's went wrong. Now you're back, I feel better already.... +Good-night." + +They were all glad she was back! In the sunshine of so much +appreciation, Rosie's heart felt like a little flower bursting into +bloom. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +JANET USES STRONG LANGUAGE + + +Night brought back to Mrs. O'Brien her usual serenity. Given a little +time she always worked around to serenity, even after blows such as +Ellen's lost job. The next morning, while George Riley ate his +breakfast, she was able to talk about it without a trace of her first +despair. + +"Have you heard, Jarge, the frightful experience poor Ellen had at that +office? Her boss was one of them unreasonable fussy old men that would +worry any poor girl to death. Ellen stood it for two days and then she +told him she'd just have to give up. They were so awfully sorry to lose +her that they paid her a whole week's wages. I tell her she done quite +right not trying to stick it out under such conditions. 'Twould make an +old woman of her in no time. As I says to her, 'The game ain't worth the +candle. And what's more,' says I, 'what with your fine looks and your +fine education you won't be any time getting another job.' And she +won't. I'm sure of that. She was awfully afraid we'd be blaming her, but +'Make your mind easy,' I says to her. 'You've done just exactly what +your poor da and I would have advised you to do.' Oh, I tell you, +Jarge, in these days a poor girl has to mind her P's and Q's or they'll +impose on her! You know that's so, Jarge." + +Rosie sighed. Three weeks had made no change in her mother's character. +Whatever Ellen or any of her children might be guilty of, within +twenty-four hours Mrs. O'Brien would be sure to find them blameless and +even praiseworthy. + +Rosie was glad to see that George Riley, in spite of his infatuation, +was not entirely taken in. He smiled to himself a little grimly. "So +she's lost her job already, has she?" + +Mrs. O'Brien demurred: "'Tain't quite fair to the poor girl to say she +lost her job. What Ellen done was this: she resigned her position." + +George glanced at Rosie and she, to make sure he understood, wrinkled +her nose and shook her head. "I'll tell you about it sometime," she +remarked carelessly. + +"She's off shopping this morning," Mrs. O'Brien continued. "I told her +not to go back to them offices for a couple of days. She needs a little +rest and once she gets a good steady job goodness knows when she'll ever +again have a moment to herself. So I'm wanting her to get her shopping +done while she can." + +"You see, Jarge," Rosie explained; "she needs a lot of new clothes and +now that she's making money she can buy them herself. She's going to get +a new hat, too. She doesn't like that last new hat." Rosie tried to use +a tone that would sound guileless to her mother and yet tell George all +there was to tell. + +With her mother at least she was successful. "You must remember," Mrs. +O'Brien went on, "a girl in her position has got to dress mighty well or +they'll be taking advantage of her. So I says to her, 'Now, Ellen dear, +just get yourself a nice new hat and anything else you need. Don't mind +any board money this week.' You know, Jarge, she's going to begin paying +three dollars a week regular. Don't you call that pretty fine for a poor +girl who is just starting out in life? You mustn't forget, Jarge, that +all you pay yourself is five dollars a week." + +"Yes, but the difference is he really pays it!" Rosie could not resist +stating this fact even at risk of hurting her mother's feelings. + +The risk was a safe one. Mrs. O'Brien only smiled blandly. "'Tis no +difference at all, Rosie dear. Come next week, Ellen'll be really paying +it, too. She gave me her word she would." + +A mother's faith in her offspring is touching and very beautiful. It is +even more: it is as it should be. Nevertheless it is usually wearisome +to outsiders. In this case, Rosie's point of view was that of an +outsider. She stood her mother's eulogy of Ellen as long as she could +and then, to avoid an outburst, she fled. She ventured back once or +twice but not to stay, as Ellen continued to be the theme of her +mother's conversation and George, poor victim, seemed not to realize how +bored he was. + +Rosie began to think that her second day home was in a fair way of being +spoiled. As the morning wore away she found another grievance. + +"Terry," she said, "I don't know what has become of Janet. She promised +to be here first thing this morning. I suppose her father's been beating +her up again." + +"Did you know," Terry asked, "that Dave McFadden got pulled in while you +were away? He was fined ten dollars." + +"Wisht he'd been sent up for ten years!" Rosie declared. "Mis' McFadden +and Janet would be much better off without him!" + +Dear, dear! Taken by and large this poor old world is pretty full of +trouble! Rosie sighed deeply, wondering how she was going to bear the +burden of it all. + +She waited for Janet until afternoon, when it was time for her to go +about her business as paper-carrier. She was sure now that something +serious had happened to Janet. To the child of a man like Dave McFadden +something serious might happen almost any time. On the first part of her +route Rosie gave herself up to all sorts of horrible imaginings. Then, +in the excitement of a long talk with Danny Agin on the subject of +George Riley, she forgot Janet and did not think of her again until she +reached home. + +Janet was there on the porch awaiting her. + +"Poor Janet's in trouble," Mrs. O'Brien began at once. + +This was evident enough from the expression of Janet's face. + +"What is it, Janet? What's happened?" Rosie put a sympathetic arm about +Janet's shoulder and peered anxiously into her somber eyes. + +"Her poor ma's been took sick," Mrs. O'Brien continued. + +"Oh, Janet, I'm sorry! Is it serious?" + +"Horspital," Mrs. O'Brien announced. + +"Hospital!" Rosie repeated. Then it was serious! "When did it happen, +Janet?" + +"This morning." Janet spoke quietly in a tired colourless voice. + +"Were you at home, Janet?" + +"No. On the street." + +"Did they send for an ambulance?" + +"Yes." + +"Did they take you to the hospital, too?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, Janet, what did the doctor say?" + +"He said lots of things." + +"Didn't he say your mother would be all right soon?" + +"He said that depends." + +"What does it depend on, Janet?" + +Janet laughed, a weak pathetic little laugh that had no mirth in it. "He +said she might get well again if she didn't have to work or worry any +more. Huh! It's easy to say a thing like that to a poor woman that's got +to work or starve, but it would be a good deal more sensible if they'd +say right out: 'You better go drown yourself!'" + +"Why, Janet!" Mrs. O'Brien's hands went up in shocked amazement. + +"I mean it!" Janet insisted fiercely. "Do you suppose my mother works +like she does because she wants to? I'd like to see that doctor married +to a drunk and have some one say to him: 'Now don't work or worry and +you'll be all right.'" + +Mrs. O'Brien was much distressed. "Why, Janet dear, you surprise me to +be talkin' so about that poor doctor." + +"The doctor!" Janet turned on Mrs. O'Brien passionately. "I'm not +talking about the doctor! I'm talking about my father!" She paused an +instant, then flung out a terrible epithet which even in the mouth of a +rough man would have been shocking. + +Instinctively Rosie shrank and Mrs. O'Brien raised a startled, +disapproving hand. + +Janet tossed her head defiantly. "I don't care!" she insisted. "It's all +his fault, the drunken brute, and if my mother dies tonight, it'll be +him that's murdered her!" She ended with a sob and hid her face on +Rosie's shoulder. + +Mrs. O'Brien, still scandalised, opened her mouth to speak. But the +right word which would express both reproof and commiseration was slow +in coming, and at last she was forced to meet the difficulty by fleeing +it. "I--I think I must be going in. I think I hear Geraldine. Sit still, +Rosie dear." And then, her heart getting the better of her, she ended +with: "Poor child! She's not herself today! Comfort her, Rosie!" + +Rosie scarcely needed her mother's admonition. "There now, Janet dear, +don't cry! Your mother's going to be all right--I know she is! She's +been sick before and got over it." + +Janet was not a person of tears. She swallowed her sobs now and slowly +dried her eyes. "I'm sorry I used such strong language, Rosie, honest I +am. And before your mother, too! You've got to excuse me. I know it +wasn't ladylike." + +"That's all right, Janet. You really didn't mean it." + +"Yes, I did mean it," Janet declared truthfully. "If you only knew it, +Rosie, there are lots of times I don't feel a bit ladylike! I often use +cuss words inside to myself. Don't you?" + +No, most emphatically, Rosie did not! She was saved, however, the +necessity of having to acknowledge so embarrassing an evidence of +feminine weakness by Janet's further pronouncement: + +"I tell you what, Rosie, when you come to a place where you want to +smash things up, a good big cuss word just helps an awful lot! Don't you +think so?" + +Rosie cleared her throat a little nervously. "Yes, Janet, I suppose it +does." + +"You bet it does! And what's more, women have got just as much right to +use it as men, haven't they?" + +Rosie wanted to cry out: "I don't think they want to! I know I don't!" +but, under Janet's fiery glance, the words that actually spoke +themselves were: "Yes, of--of course they have." + +With the hearty agreement of every one present, there was no more to be +said on that subject. Janet turned to another. + +"Rosie, will you do something for me? Come and stay all night with me. +I'll be so lonely I don't know what I'll do." + +Rosie's heart sank. If she spent the night with Janet, she'd have no +chance to talk to George Riley, for she'd be gone long before he got +home. Besides, there was Dave McFadden, and the thought of sleeping near +him was almost terrifying. + +"But, Janet dear, how about your father?" + +"Oh, I suppose he'll come in soused as usual. But you won't be bothered. +I'll get him off to bed before you come and he'll be safe till morning. +Please say you'll come, Rosie. I need you, honest I do." + +That was true: Janet did need her. George Riley would have to wait. + +"All right, Janet. I'll come." + +"Thanks, Rosie. I knew you would." Janet paused. "And, Rosie, do you +think you could lend me a quarter? I've got to have some money for +breakfast. Mother had a dollar in her pocket but I forgot about it at +the hospital." + +"I haven't a cent, Janet, but I'll raise a quarter somewhere, from Terry +or from dad, and I'll bring it with me tonight." + +Janet stood up to go. "Come about eight o'clock, Rosie." + +Rosie looked at her friend compassionately. "Why don't you stay here for +supper?" + +Janet shook her head. "I'd like to but I don't think I'd better. He +probably won't come home, but he might come and I better be on hand." + +Janet started off slowly and reluctantly. Twice she turned back a face +so woebegone and desolate that it went to Rosie's heart and, after a few +moments, sent her flying for comfort to her mother's ample bosom. + +Mrs. O'Brien gathered her in as if were the most natural thing in the +world. "What is it, Rosie darlint? What's troublin' you?" + +"Ma," she sobbed, "you're well, aren't you?" + +"Me, Rosie dear, am I well, do you say?" Mrs. O'Brien looked into +Rosie's tearful eyes in astonishment. + +"Yes, Ma, you! I want you to be well--always--all the time! You see, Ma, +Janet's poor mother----" + +"Ah, and is it that that's troublin' you?" Mrs. O'Brien crooned, +rocking Rosie from side to side as though she were Geraldine. "Don't you +be worryin' your little head about your poor ma. I'm fine and well, +thank God, and your poor da is well, and Terry's well, and Jackie's +well, and poor wee Geraldine is well, and dear Ellen's well, and we're +all----" + +"Ellen!" snorted Rosie, her tears abruptly ceasing to flow and her body +drawing itself away from her mother's embrace. + +"Dear Ellen's well, too," Mrs. O'Brien in all innocence repeated. + +"Oh, I know she's well all right!" Rosie declared in tones which even +her mother recognised as sarcastic. + +"Why, Rosie," Mrs. O'Brien began, "I'm surprised----" + +But Rosie, without waiting to hear the end of her mother's reproach, +marched resolutely off with all the dignity of a high chin and a stiff +military gait. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE CASE OF DAVE McFADDEN + + +Promptly at eight o'clock Rosie reached the tenement where the McFaddens +lived. Janet was on the front steps waiting for her. + +"Shall we sit out here awhile?" Janet said, making place for Rosie +beside herself. + +Rosie hesitated a moment. "Is your father home?" + +"Yes. He came in an hour ago. I got him off to bed as soon as I could. +He's asleep now." + +"Are--are you sure he won't wake up and make trouble?" + +Janet laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. We won't hear anything from him till +morning except snorts and groans. I guess I know." + +On the steps of the neighbouring tenements there were groups of people +laughing, talking, wrangling. The electric street lamps cast great +patches of quivering jumping light and heavy masses of deep pulsating +shadow. Janet and Rosie, seated alone, were near enough their neighbours +not to feel cut off from the outside world and yet, in the seclusion of +a dark shadow, far enough away to talk freely on the subject uppermost +in their thoughts. + +"You've never heard me say anything about my father before, Rosie, you +know you haven't." Janet paused to sigh. "Mother never has, either. +We've both always let on that he's all right and we've covered him up +and lied about him and done everything we could to keep people from +knowing how he really treats us. If this hadn't happened to mother, I +wouldn't be talking yet. Say, Rosie, ain't women fools? That's the way +they always act about their own men folks. They're willing to shoot any +other man for nothing at all, but they let on that their own men are +just angels. You know--the way I've always done about dad. But, since +today, seems like I don't care any more. And I've made up my mind to one +thing: he's going to hear the truth from me tomorrow morning if he kills +me for it." + +"Janet!" Rosie did not relish at all the thought of being present at a +family conference of so private a nature. + +"Yes, and you're going to hear it, too, Rosie. If we were alone, he +might pay attention or he might not. But with an outsider hearing things +he'll know quick enough that I mean business." + +"Janet, I don't know how you can talk that way. He's your father, you +know." + +Janet nodded grimly. "Yes, he's my father all right. You know it and I +know it, but he seems to have forgotten it. I'll remind him of it +tomorrow." + +Rosie reached out a little timidly. "I don't like to interfere, Janet, +but it seems to me you're only making things harder for yourself. Don't +you know it makes you kind o' sick inside to let yourself get so mad at +any one?" + +Janet sighed wearily. "Yes, I suppose it does, but I've been that way so +long I don't know how it feels to be any other way." + +Presently Rosie said: "Tell me, Janet, has he always boozed like this?" + +Janet shook her head. "No, not always. I can remember when things were +different. I was a pretty big kid, too. We had a little house like yours +and good furniture. You know he's a fine machinist and makes good money. +He used to make four dollars a day. He can always get work yet but he +don't keep it like he used to." + +"And didn't he booze then, Janet?" + +"Yes, a little but not very much. Ma says he'd come home full maybe once +a month and smash things around, but after that he'd sober up and be all +right for a long time. Oh, we were comfortable then and ma and me had +good clothes and if ma didn't feel very well she'd hire some one to do +the washing. I remember I had a pretty jumping rope and a big ball. It +wasn't more than five or six years ago. And look at us now!" + +Rosie sighed sympathetically. "I wonder what it was that started him +that way?" + +Janet was able to tell. "You know, Rosie, that's a funny thing. Miss +Harris from the Settlement was in here one day asking ma and I heard +what ma said. Dad fell and broke a leg and was laid up for a long time. +Then they found it hadn't been set right and they broke it over again. +So that kept him out of work ever so many more weeks. They had always +been spenders, both of them, and they hadn't so very much money put by, +so, just to keep things together while dad was idle, ma began going out +to work. She's a fine cleaner and laundress, so of course she could +always get good places. Then, after dad got well, she kept on working +because they were in debt and then--I don't know how it happened--the +first thing ma knew dad was drinking up his money and she's been working +ever since. He used to pay the rent but he don't even do that any more." + +Janet talked on as she had never talked before. Not much of what she +said was new to Rosie, for the private life of the poor is lived in +public, and Mrs. Finnegan has no need to explain to the neighbours the +little commotion that took place in her rooms the night before, since +the neighbours have all along known as much about it as herself. What +Rosie had not known before was Janet's real attitude toward her father. +Janet's likes had always seemed to Rosie a little fearsome in their +intensity; her hate, as Rosie saw it now, was appalling. Compared to +Janet's feelings, Rosie's own appeared childish, almost babyish. If +brought to trial, she would, no doubt, have fought for them, but like a +kitten rather than a tiger. In Janet the tiger was already well grown. + +Listening to Janet, Rosie shuddered. "I wish you wouldn't talk that way, +Janet. It's kind of murderous!" + +"Murderous?" Janet repeated. "What if it is? That's just how I feel +sometimes. Right now when I think of ma lying there in the hospital, for +two cents I'd go upstairs and choke him to death! What would it matter, +anyway, if he never woke up? Just one less drunkard in the world--that's +all. I guess there'd be plenty enough of them left." + +Rosie held out imploring hands. "Janet, if you keep on talking like that +I'll have to go home! I'll be too scared to sleep with you!" + +Janet was contrite. "Aw, now, Rosie, don't say that. I'm only talking, +and I won't even talk any more tonight. Anyhow, it's time for bed." + +The McFadden home consisted of two rooms: a front living room and a +small back bedroom. The living room was everything its name implied: it +had in it sink, wash-tub, stove, eating table, and the bed where Janet +and her mother slept. The little back room, lighted and ventilated from +a shaft, was where Dave slept. + +The sound of him and the smell of him filled both rooms and seemed to +rush out into the hallway as Janet and Rosie pushed open the door. + +"Ugh!" Rosie gasped, and Janet, who had struck a match and was reaching +for a candle, paused to say, over her shoulder: "If you want me to, +I'll shut his door." + +Rosie would have liked nothing better but a humanitarian consideration +restrained her. "Wouldn't he smother in there with the door shut?" + +"Maybe he would." + +Janet spoke so indifferently that Rosie felt that she herself must bear +the whole burden of responsibility. + +"Guess you had better leave it as it is, Janet. I suppose I'll be able +to stand it once I get used to it." + +Rosie said this, but in her own mind she was perfectly sure she could +never sleep in such an atmosphere. She repeated this to herself many +times and very emphatically, while she was undressing and afterwards +when she was in bed. + +"If you're careful," Janet instructed her, "and lie over just a little +bit near the edge, you won't hit the broken spring. Now good-night, +dear, and sleep tight." + +Sleep tight, indeed, with that brute in there snorting like an engine +and one's back nearly broken in two stretching over sharp peaks and +yawning precipices! My! what would Rosie not have given to be at home in +her own bed! Not that her own bed was any marvel of comfort. It was not. +But it was her own--that was the great thing. People like their own +things--their own beds, their own homes, their own families. How Rosie +loved hers! There was her father for whom her heart overflowed in a +sudden gush of tenderness. Jamie O'Brien was so quiet and unobtrusive +that Rosie often forgot him. It needed the contrast of a Dave McFadden +to awaken in her a realization of his gentle worth. And, if you only +knew it, there wasn't a more generous-hearted soul on earth than Maggie +O'Brien. And where was there a prettier or a sweeter baby than +Geraldine? And Jackie was a nice kid, too. He was! And Terry---- Terry's +nobility of character could only be expressed orally with a sigh, +graphically with a dash.... Of course there was Ellen.... I suppose +every family has to have at least one disagreeable member.... Wouldn't +it be a great idea if all families just bunched together their +disagreeable members and sent 'em off somewhere alone where they +wouldn't be of any further nuisance? To the Great American Desert, for +instance! To such a scheme Rosie would gladly contribute Ellen and Janet +might contribute her father. The longer Rosie considered the plan, the +more sensible it seemed to her. She was surprised she hadn't thought of +it sooner. She would discuss it with Janet in the morning.... Yes, +morning--morning. Then dream and waking flowed together and she felt +Janet patting her arm and she heard Janet's voice saying, "Morning! It's +morning, Rosie! Wake up!" + +Rosie opened her eyes with a pop. "Why, I've been asleep, haven't I?" + +"I should think you had!" Janet told her. "You've been laughing and +talking to yourself to beat the band. It's time to get up now. I want +you to go to the grocery and, while you're out, I'll get him up." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +JANET TO HER OWN FATHER + + +When Rosie got back from the grocery, Dave McFadden was washing his face +at the sink. He paid no attention to Rosie and, in fact, seemed not to +see her until he sat down to breakfast. Then he looked at her in +surprise. + +"Why, hello, Rosie! Where did you come from?" + +He was a large powerfully built man, dark, with sombre cavernous eyes +and a gaunt face. His voice was not unkind nor was his glance. + +Rosie spoke to him politely: "Good-morning, Mr. McFadden." + +"Rosie's been here all night," Janet announced. + +"All night!" Dave looked around a little startled. "Where's your +mother?" + +"My mother?" Janet spoke indifferently. "Oh, she's at the hospital. +She's been there since yesterday morning. I tried to tell you about her +last night." + +Dave put down his coffee cup heavily. "What's the matter with her?" + +"The doctor said it was overwork and worry." + +"Overwork and worry! What are you talking about? They don't put people +in the hospital for overwork and worry!" Dave spoke with a rising +irritation. "Can't you tell me something that's got some sense to it?" + +Janet answered casually as though relating an adventure that in no way +touched herself. "I can tell you the whole thing if you want to hear it. +We were on the street going to Mrs. Lamont's for the washing when +suddenly ma jumped and her hands went up and she shook, and I looked +where she was looking because I thought there must be a snake or +something on the sidewalk. Then, before I knew what was happening, she +screamed and fell and her eyes began rolling and she bit with her mouth +until her lips were all bloody and her head jerked around and--and--it +was awful!" With a sob in which there was left no pretence of +indifference, Janet put her hands before her face to shut out the horror +of the scene. + +The details were as new to Rosie as to Dave. Janet had not even hinted +that it was _this_ which had happened to her mother. + +Dave McFadden breathed heavily. "Then what?" + +Janet took her hands from her face and, with a fresh assumption of +indifference, continued: "Oh, a crowd gathered, of course, and after +while a policeman came, and then the ambulance. And while we were in the +ambulance she--had another. And when we got to the hospital--another. It +was awful!" Janet dropped her head on the table and sobbed. + +"Well?" demanded Dave gruffly. + +Janet stifled her sobs. "They undressed her and put her to bed and gave +her something and she went to sleep. Then the doctor took me into +another room and wrote down what he said was a history of ma's case and +he asked me questions about everything." + +Dave McFadden's sombre gaze wandered off unhappily about the room. "What +did you tell him?" + +Janet's answer came a little slowly: "I told him everything." + +Dave looked at her sharply. "Tell me what you told him!" + +"All right. I'll tell you." There was a hint of unsteadiness in Janet's +voice but no sign of wavering in her manner. Her eyes stared across at +her father as sombre almost as his own. "He said from the looks of her +he thought ma was all run down from overwork and worry. I told him she +was. Then he asked me why and I told him why.... I told him my father +made good money but boozed every cent. I told him my mother had to +support herself and me and even had to feed my father. I told him that +when my father was sober he was cross and grouchy but he didn't hurt us +and that, when he came home drunk, he'd kick us or beat us or do +anything he could to hurt us." + +With a roar like the roar of an angry animal, Dave McFadden reached +across the table and clutched Janet roughly by the shoulder. "You told +him that, you--you little skunk!" + +His fury, instead of cowing Janet, roused her to like fury. + +"Yes!" she shouted shrilly. "That's exactly what I told him and it's +exactly what I'm going to tell everybody! I'm never going to tell +another lie about you, Dave McFadden! Do you hear me? Never!" + +At the unexpectedness of her attack, Dave's anger and strength seemed to +flow from him like water. His clutch relaxed; he fell back weakly into +his chair. For a moment confusion covered him utterly. Then he tried to +speak and at last succeeded in voicing that ancient reproach with which +unworthy parenthood has ever sought to beguile the just reproof of +outraged offspring: "And is this the way you talk to your own father? +Your--own--father!" Had he been a little drunk, he would have wept. As +it was, even to himself, his words seemed not to ring very true. + +Janet regarded him scornfully. "Yes, that's exactly the way I talk to my +own father!" She paused and her eyes blazed anew. "And there's one +thing, Dave McFadden, that I want to tell you." She stood up from the +table and walked around to her father's place. "When you come in sober, +as cross as a bear and without a word in your mouth for any one, ma and +me hustle about to make you comfortable and don't even talk to each +other for fear of riling you. Yes, we're so thankful you're not drunk +that we crawl around like two little dogs just waiting to lick your hand +and tell you how good you are. Then, when you come home drunk, wanting +to kill some one, we do our best to coax you in here to keep you from +getting mixed up with the neighbours. We're terribly careful to save the +neighbours, and why? So's you won't get arrested. But do we ever save +ourselves? There's never a time when I'm not black and blue all over +with the bruises you give me--kicking me and pinching me and knocking me +down." + +In his senses Dave McFadden was not an unkind man, but most of the time +he was not in his senses. Janet's tirade now seemed to be affecting him +much as cheap whiskey did. He staggered to his feet and raised +threatening hands. + +"You little slut! If you don't shut up, I--I'll choke you!" + +But Janet was far past any intimidation. She stood her ground calmly. +"All right! Go ahead and choke! The thing I've made up my mind to tell +you, Dave McFadden, is this: I'll never again lick your boots when +you're sober nor run from you when you're drunk. Kill me now if you want +to! Go on! You've probably killed ma and if she's lying there in the +hospital dead this minute, I wish you would kill me! Then you could go +drown yourself and that would be the end of all of us!" + +Dave McFadden groaned. "For God's sake," he implored, "can't you let up +on me?" + +Janet looked at him steadily. "Have you ever let up on us?" + +He stared about helplessly and asked, with the querulousness, almost, of +a child: "What is it you want me to do? Do you want me to go to the +hospital to see her?" + +Janet laughed drearily. "They wouldn't let you in. I asked the doctor +did he want you to come and he said, no, the sight of you would probably +give her another attack." + +Dave shuffled uneasily. "Then I suppose I might as well go to work." + +"Yes," Janet agreed, "you might as well go to work. But before you go, +will you please give me a quarter? I borrowed a quarter from Rosie to +buy your breakfast." + +Dave put his hand in his pocket and found a quarter. He flipped it +across the table. "Here's your money, Rosie." + +"And if you want me to get any supper for you," Janet went on, "you'll +have to give me some money, too." + +Dave hesitated. He was not accustomed to paying the household expenses. +Before he realized what he was saying, he asked: "Hasn't your mother any +money?" Under the instant fire of Janet's scorn, he saw his mistake and +reddened with shame. + +"Yes," Janet told him grimly, "she's got one dollar and I'll see you +starve to death before I touch one cent of it for you! If you want any +supper, you pay for it yourself; and you'll pay for mine, too, if I get +any. If I don't get any, it won't be the first time." + +Dave slowly emptied his pocket. He had a two-dollar bill, a fifty-cent +piece, and some small change. "Here," he said, offering Janet the bill +and the fifty-cent piece. "Will that suit you?" + +Janet took the money but refused to be placated. "It ain't what will +suit me or won't suit me. You know as well as I do what's fair and +square, and that's all there is to it. And while we're on money," she +continued, "I might as well tell you if you don't pay five dollars on +the rent we'll be dispossessed next Monday. On account of ma being sick +so much lately we've dropped behind four weeks and the agent won't wait +any longer." + +Dave swallowed hard. "This is all I got till Saturday." + +"Are you sure you'll have any more on Saturday?" + +Dave looked hurt. "Won't I have a whole week's wages?" + +"I don't know." Janet spoke without any feeling as one merely stating a +fact. "Most weeks, you know, you're in debt to the saloon, and when you +pay up there on Saturday afternoon you haven't much left by night." + +Dave smothered an oath. It was plain that he thought he had done a very +handsome thing in passing over the greater part of his money. It was +also plain that he had expected a grateful "Thank you." And what did he +feel he was receiving? An insult! He looked at Janet in sullen +resentment. "You're a nice one, you are, talking that way to your own +father! I tell you one thing, though: you wouldn't talk that way if your +mother was around. She's got a heart, she has! All you've got is a +turnip!" + +At mention of her mother, Janet choked a little. "My mother don't think +my heart's a turnip and Rosie don't, either. All I've got to say is, if +it looks like a turnip to you, it's because you've changed it into one +yourself." + +To this Dave made no answer. Without further words he could better +preserve the expression of grieved and unappreciated parenthood. +Whatever he may have done or may not have done in the past, just now he +had been noble and generous. And would his own child acknowledge this? +No! He bore her no grudge; his face very plainly said so; but he was +hurt, deeply hurt. Under cover of the hurt, he opened the door quietly +and made his escape. + +In Janet the fires of indignation flickered and went out, leaving her +cold and lifeless. She threw herself into a chair and folded her hands. + +"You certainly did give it to him straight, Janet!" Rosie spoke in tones +of deep admiration. + +Janet laughed scornfully. "Give it to him straight! Oh, yes, I gave it +to him straight all right!" She shivered and clenched her hands. "I can +talk! That's where we come in strong. Take the women in this tenement +and they've all got tongues as sharp as ice-picks. Any one of them can +talk a man to death. But what does it all amount to? Nothing! I tell +you, Rosie, they've got the bulge on us, for, as soon as we make things +hot for them, all they've got to do is clear out!" Janet sighed +unhappily. "Then they pay us back by not coming home and when they get +injured or pulled in it all comes out that it's our fault because we +haven't made home pleasant for them. Huh! They always make it so awful +pleasant for us, don't they?" + +Rosie felt helpless and uncomfortable. Her own life had problems of its +own but, compared to Janet's, how trivial they seemed, how +inconsequential. And, by a like comparison, how inviting her own home +suddenly appeared. She thought of it, ordinarily, as an overcrowded +untidy little house where everybody was under every one else's feet. Not +so this morning. This morning it was home as home should be, the centre +of a very real family life supported by a father's industry and a +mother's devotion. They were poor, of course, but not overwhelmingly so, +for they had enough to eat and enough to wear. And, best of all, they +loved each other. In the past Rosie had not always known this, but she +knew it now. They loved each other and, without thinking anything about +it, they were ready to stand by each other. Beneath all family discord +there was a harmony, a family harmony, the burden of which was: all for +one and one for all. A wave of homesickness swept over Rosie. She wanted +to be off without the loss of another moment. Her hands reached out +eagerly for the many tasks, the dear, the wearying tasks that were +awaiting them. + +"Well, Janet, I'm sorry, but I think I must go. You know Geraldine has +to have her bath and I've got to go marketing. If you hurry, though, +I'll help with the dishes first." + +"No," Janet said. "You run along if you have to. I can do the dishes +alone." + +Rosie paused a moment longer. "You know if you want to you can come and +have dinner with us, Janet." + +Janet shook her head. "Thanks, but I won't have time. I've got to go to +all of mother's customers and tell them she's sick, and I go to the +hospital early in the afternoon." + +"Then when will I see you?" + +"I don't know unless you come and sleep with me again tonight." + +"I don't see how I can, Janet." At that moment the thought of spending +another night away from her beloved family was more than Rosie could +bear. "You know, Janet, I've got so many things to do at home. +Geraldine needs me all the time and so does ma and----" + +"Yes, yes, Rosie, I understand. And I don't blame you one bit for liking +it better at home." + +"I didn't mean that at all!" Rosie declared; "honest I didn't!" + +"That's all right," Janet assured her. "I like it better over at your +house myself. It was good of you coming last night. I was kind o' scared +last night and I didn't want to be alone with him." + +Rosie was concerned. "You won't be scared tonight, will you?" + +"Do you mean of him?" + +Rosie nodded. + +"No. And what's more, Rosie, I don't believe I'll ever again be scared +of him. He's not going to bother me any more. Couldn't you see that this +morning?... Funny thing, Rosie: I used to think if only I wasn't afraid +of him I'd be perfectly happy and now, when I'm not afraid of him any +longer and when he'll probably never touch me again, I don't seem to +care much." + +Rosie shook her head emphatically. "Well, I tell you one thing, Janet +McFadden: I care. I couldn't go to sleep tonight if I thought you were +here alone getting beaten up." + +Janet looked at her friend affectionately. "You needn't worry about me. +I'll be all right. Good-bye, Rosie dear, and thanks." + +"Good-bye, Janet, and come when you can." + +From the speed with which Rosie hurried home, it would never have been +guessed that she was merely returning to a round of endless duties and +petty worries. Her eyes shone, her little woman face was all aglow with +the joyous eagerness of one whose course was leading straight to +happiness. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +DANNY'S SUGGESTION + + +Mrs. O'Brien received her daughter with open arms. + +"Ah, Rosie dear, I'm glad to see you! And I can't tell you the fuss +they've all been making at your absence.... Yes, Geraldine darlint, +sister Rosie's come back at last." + +Rosie took the baby and hugged and kissed her as though she had not seen +her for weeks. "And are you glad to see Rosie?" she crooned. + +"She is that!" Mrs. O'Brien declared. "And himself, Rosie, was +complainin' the whole evening about your not being here. And Terry, too, +he kept askin' where you were. And Jarge Riley, Rosie! Why, Jarge is +fairly lost without you! He was in early this morning and just now when +I was startin' to get him his breakfast, he stopped me. And what for, do +you think? He wanted to wait to see if you wouldn't be coming back. Why, +Rosie, I do believe that b'y thinks that no one can boil coffee or fry +eggs equal to yourself!" + +Rosie glowed all over. "Ma, is he really waiting for me?... Here, +Geraldine dear, you go to ma for a few minutes. Rosie's got to get Jarge +Riley's breakfast. I'll be back soon, won't I, Ma?" + +"And, Rosie dear, before you go, such a bit of news as I have: Ellen's +got a new job! They sent for her from the college. Now I do say it's a +fine compliment for any girl to be sent for like that. Ah, they know the +stuff that's in Ellen! As I says to her last night----" + +"Tell me the rest some other time," Rosie begged. "You know Jarge is +waiting." + +"To be sure he is," Mrs. O'Brien agreed. "He's in his room. Give him a +call as you go by." + +In answer to her summons George appeared at once, collarless and in +shirtsleeves with the drowsiness of an interrupted nap in his eyes. He +beamed on Rosie affectionately. + +"I thought you'd be coming." + +"It was awful good of you waiting for me, Jarge." + +"Good--nuthin'! Guess I know who can cook in this house!" + +Conscious worth need not be offensive. Rosie answered modestly: "Oh, I +cook much better than I used to, Jarge. I learned ever so much from your +mother. I know how to make pie now. We used to have pie every day in the +country." + +"I know." George sighed pathetically. + +Rosie was all sympathy. "I'll make you a pie this week, honest I will. +Which would you rather have, rhubarb or apple?" + +George weighed the choice while Rosie set out his breakfast. + +"Guess you might make it rhubarb this time," he decided at last; "and +apple next time." + +"Now then," Rosie said, pouring his coffee, "you eat and I'll sit down +and talk to you. I wanted to talk to you last night, but you know I had +to go off with poor Janet." + +George looked at her seriously. "I don't like your staying over there +all night. I don't think it's safe. Dave's all right when he's sober, +but they say he ain't sober much nowadays." + +"It was all right last night, Jarge. Janet had him in bed and asleep +before I got there." + +"Well, even so...." George grumbled on. + +"H'm," Rosie remarked a little pointedly. "Er--do you remember, Jarge, +what I was going to talk to you about last night?" + +George looked at her inquiringly. "Was it anything special?" + +"Don't you remember what you asked me to ask Danny Agin?" + +"I didn't know I asked you to ask him anything." George spoke in candid +surprise. + +"Oh, Jarge, what a poor memory you've got!" Rosie shook her head +despairingly. "You told me what a mess you had made of things with Ellen +and you asked my advice about what you ought to do and told me to talk +it over with Danny Agin. Now do you remember?" + +George did not seem to remember things in just the order that Rosie gave +them, but he was gallant enough not to say so and, furthermore, to show +his acceptance of her version by an interested: "Oh, is that what you +mean?" + +Rosie leaned toward him eagerly. "Don't you want to hear what Danny +said?" + +"Sure I do." + +"Well, Danny and me went over things very carefully and I agree with +Danny and Danny agrees with me. So, if you've got any sense, you'll do +just exactly what we tell you to." + +George looked a little dubious. "Don't know as I'm so awful strong on +sense. Shoot away, though. I'd like to hear what you want me to do." + +Rosie began impressively: "Danny says that the mistake you're making is +not going out and getting another girl. Ellen's so sure of you that of +course she don't take the least interest in you. All she's got to do is +crook her little finger and you're Johnny-on-the-spot. Now if you were +to get another girl and treat her real nice, Ellen wouldn't be long in +taking notice. That's the way girls are." Rosie wagged her head +knowingly. + +George dropped his knife. "Aw, shucks! Is that all you got to say?" + +Rosie's manner turned severe. "Now, Jarge Riley, you needn't say, 'Aw, +shucks!' What's more, I guess Danny Agin and me together have got more +sense than you have any day and we don't think it's shucks! Now you +listen to what I say and maybe you'll learn something." + +But George still seemed unwilling to learn. "Aw, what do I want to go +chasing girls for? I don't like 'em, and besides, 'tain't nuthin' but a +tomfool waste of time and money!" + +Rosie was scornful. "Is it because you're afraid of spending a cent?" + +George met the charge calmly. "I wouldn't be afraid to spend all I make +on the right girl, but with all the places I got to put money, just tell +me, please, what's the sense of my throwing it away on some girl I don't +care beans about?" + +"So's to get a chance at the girl you do care beans about!" Rosie was +emphatic. "Now I tell you one thing Jarge Riley: I don't think much of +Ellen and I think it would be a good deal better for you if she never +would look at you, but you're in love with her and you think you've got +to have her, and I've promised you I'd help you. Now: Are you going to +be sensible or aren't you?" + +George refused to commit himself. Instead he asked: "How much do you +reckon this fool scheme would cost a fellow?" + +Rosie was ready with a detailed estimate. "It would come to from five to +thirty cents every day." + +"Every day!" George was fairly outraged at the suggestion. "Do you mean +to say you've got the cheek to expect me to go sporting some fool girl +every day?" + +Rosie was firm. "That's exactly what I mean. I suppose you think the way +to make love to a girl is to give her an ice-cream soda once a month. +Well, it just ain't!" + +George continued obstinate. "I'm not saying I know how to make love to a +girl because I don't and, what's more, I don't care. But I'll be blamed +if I'm willing to do more than one ice-cream soda a month for any girl +alive!" + +Rosie caught him up sharply: "Not even for Ellen?" + +"Ellen! Ellen's different! I'd like to do something for her every day of +her life." + +"H'm! What, for instance?" + +"Well, I ain't got much money, so I can't do very big things, but I'd +like to take her to the movies or on a street-car ride or buy her some +peanuts or candy or all kinds o' little things like that. I know they +ain't much in themselves, but if a fellow does them all the time, it +seems to me a girl ought to know that he's thinking about her a good +deal." + +"Oh, Jarge, you're such a child!" Rosie smiled on him in womanly +amusement. "First you say you don't know how to make love and then you +tell just exactly how to do it! Now listen to me: The way to make love +to any girl is to treat her just like you'd like to treat Ellen. If +anything on earth is going to make Ellen wake up, it'll be just that. +And the very things you know how to do are the very things I was going +to tell you to do! A bag of peanuts is plenty for a walk and that's only +five cents. Then a night when you go to the movies would be ten cents +and, if it was hot, you'd probably want ten cents more for an ice-cream +soda afterwards and that would make twenty cents. If you took a car ride +and back, that would be twenty cents and a treat would be another ten +cents. And you'd be getting your money's worth while you were doing it +and perhaps you'd get Ellen, too." + +George was not very happy over the prospect. "As you've got everything +else fixed up for me," he grumbled, "I suppose you've got the girl +picked out, too. But I tell you one thing: I won't take after one of +them Slattery girls, no matter what you say! If a fellow was to give one +of them an ice-cream soda once, he'd have to marry her!" + +Rosie put out a quieting hand. "Now, Jarge, don't be silly! You don't +have to take one of the Slattery girls or any other girl that you don't +want to take. You can just suit yourself and no one's going to say a +word to you.... What kind of girl do you think you'd like? Do you want a +blonde? Well, there's Aggie Kearney, she's a blonde." + +"Aw, cut out Aggie Kearney! What do you think I am!" + +"Well, maybe you want a brunette. What about Polly Russell?" + +"Aw, cut out Polly Russell, too! You know what I think of that whole +Russell bunch!" + +Rosie looked a little hurt. "I must say, Jarge, even if you don't want +Polly, you needn't snap my head off. Make your own choice! I'm sure +there are enough girls right in this neighbourhood for any man to pick +from. How do you like 'em? Do you like 'em fat or do you like 'em thin? +Or maybe you don't want an American girl. Well, there are those Italians +around the corner and down further there's that nest of Yiddish. All +you've got to do is make up your mind about the kind of girl you want. +There's plenty of all kinds." + +"Aw, get out! I tell you I don't want any of them!" By this time George +had grown very red in the face and his voice had risen to a volume +better suited to the outdoors than to a small room. + +Rosie looked distressed. "You needn't talk so loud, Jarge. I'm not +deaf.... I must say, though, after all the trouble I've taken, ... And +poor old Danny Agin, too, ..." Rosie felt for her handkerchief. + +"Well," George complained, "I don't see why you go offering me the worst +old snags in town! Why don't you pick out a few nice ones?" + +Rosie swallowed quite pathetically and blinked her eyes toward the +ceiling. It has been observed that gazing fixedly at the ceiling very +often conduces to inspiration. Apparently it was to be so with Rosie. +The expression on her face slowly changed. She turned to George a little +shyly. + +"I was just wondering, Jarge, whether, maybe, _I_ wouldn't do." + +It must have been an inspiration! To attribute such a suggestion to +anything else would be to credit Rosie with a depth of guile which only +supreme feminine art could have compassed. + +George at least saw no guile. His face glowed. He actually shouted in an +exuberance of relief. "Would you, Rosie? That'd be fine! We'd have a +bully time together!" Then he paused. "But, Rosie, do you think you're +big enough? I wouldn't think Ellen would get jealous of a little girl +like you." + +Rosie shook her head reassuringly. "Don't you worry about me. I'm plenty +big enough. Besides, I don't count. You're the only one that counts. All +you've got to do is make love to almost any one. If it's some one you +like, then it'll be all the easier for you." + +"Well, you know I like you all right, Rosie." The heartiness in George's +tone was unmistakable. "I just love to spend money on you, Rosie! That's +a great idea! Who thought of it, Danny or you?" + +"Not Danny," Rosie answered promptly. "I thought of it myself--I mean," +she added, "I thought of it just now. And you think it's a good idea, do +you, Jarge?" + +"Good? You bet your life I think it's good! Why, do you know, Rosie, +when you began talking about Aggie Kearney and Polly Russell and those +Ginneys around the corner, you made me plumb sick! I was ready to throw +up the whole thing! I sure am glad you happened to think about yourself +on time!" + +"H'm!" murmured Rosie. + +"I mean it!" George insisted. "Let's start out tonight! What shall it +be, a street-car ride or the movies?" + +"Just as you say." Rosie, with sweet deference, put the whole thing into +George's hands. "They're going to give the 'Two Orphans' at the Gem. +Three reels. I saw the posters this morning. But you decide, Jarge. +Whatever you say will be all right." + +With a fine masterfulness George made the decision. "Well, I say movies +for tonight." He reached across the table and patted Rosie's face. +"Don't forget, kid, you're my girl now. And I tell you what: I'm going +to show you a swell time!" + +"It's just as you say, Jarge," Rosie murmured meekly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE SUBSTITUTE LADY + + +Rosie now entered upon a season of unparalleled gaiety. It was as if she +were being rewarded for her generosity in thinking not of herself nor of +her dislike for the object of George's fancy but only of George and of +his happiness. It had been something of a struggle in the first place to +advise a course of action which really might awaken in Ellen an +appreciation of George's worth. Well, Rosie had advised it in all +frankness and sincerity. That the putting into practice of this advice +was working out to Rosie's own advantage is neither here nor there. If, +in the campaign which she and Danny had planned, there had to be a +substitute lady, why, as an after-thought, should not Rosie herself be +that lady? + +With George, Rosie never forgot that the relationship was a substitute +one. Whenever he did something particularly lover-like, she would +commend him as a teacher commends an apt pupil: "Jarge, you certainly +are learning!" or, "I don't care what you say, Jarge, but if you were +really making love to me and acted this beautiful, you sure could have +me!" + +In giving him hints about new attentions, she never made the matter +personal. She would say, casually: "Now there's one thing a girl just +loves, Jarge, and you ought to know it. It's to have her beau do +unexpected things for her. I mean if he's used to giving her candy every +night, it just tickles her to death to get up some morning and find a +little package waiting for her. And if he goes to the trouble of +sticking in a little note that says: + + "'My dearest Sweetheart, I couldn't wait until to-night to give + you this....' + +why, she just goes crazy about him. Whatever you do, Jarge, you mustn't +forget that girls love to get notes all the time." + +This particular instruction Rosie had frequently to repeat before George +put it into execution. "Aw, now, Rosie," he used to plead, "you know +perfectly well I ain't nuthin' of a letter-writer." + +But Rosie was firm. "Do as you like," she would say, "but you can take +it from me they ain't nuthin' like letters to make a girl sit up. You're +practising on me, so you might as well practise right. Besides, it's not +hard, really it's not. You don't have to be fancy. Why, I once heard a +girl tell about a letter that she thought was great and all it said was, +'Say, kid, maybe I ain't crazy about you!' Now is it so awful hard to +tell a girl you're crazy about her if you are? And that's all that any +love-letter says anyhow." + +"Seems to me," George grumbled one day, "for a kid you know an awful lot +about love-letters." + +"Of course I do," Rosie told him. "I know just the kind I'd like to get +and that's the kind every girl would like to get." + +All such discussions took place in the privacy of their +pseudo-courtship. Who would have the heart to be censorious if, to the +outside world, Rosie began to bear herself with something of the air of +a lady who has a knight, of a girl who has a beau? It would have been +beyond human nature for Rosie not to remark periodically to Janet +McFadden: "What do you suppose it is that makes Jarge Riley treat me so +kind? He just seems to lie awake nights to think up nice things to do." + +Janet, being a true friend, would give a long sigh and murmur: "Don't it +beat all, Rosie, the way some girls have beaux from the beginning and +some don't. I suppose it runs in your family. You know Tom Sullivan is +always asking about you. Whenever I go to Aunt Kitty's or when Tom comes +to our house, the first thing he says is, 'How's Rosie O'Brien these +days?' If only he wasn't so bashful, he'd invite you to the movies--you +know he would. Of course he asks me because we're cousins, but I tell +you one thing, Rosie: you're the one he'd like to take." + +What Janet was always saying about Tom Sullivan's devotion to Rosie was +perfectly true but, nevertheless, it was so generous in Janet to +acknowledge it that Rosie was always ready to declare: "Aw, now, Janet, +you needn't go jollyin' me like that! Tom likes you awful well and you +know he does." + +Rosie never talked to Janet about her own round of pleasure without +stopping suddenly with a feeling of compunction and the quick question: +"But, Janet dear, how are things going with you? How's your poor mother +and is your father still on the water wagon?" + +News about Mrs. McFadden was slow in changing. For days she lay in the +hospital, weak and broken, not wishing to come back to life and without +interest in herself or her husband or even her child. A case like this +takes a long time, the nurse would tell Janet and Janet had only this to +repeat in answer to Rosie's inquiries. + +With Dave McFadden it was different. There the unexpected was happening. +It was a week before Janet risked speaking of it. Then, in awe-struck +tones, she confided to her friend. + +"Say, Rosie, what do you think? He hasn't had a drink since the day you +stayed all night with me. I don't know how long he can stand it. He +looks awful and he makes me give him about ten cups of tea at night. I +don't believe he sleeps more than half an hour." Not relief so much as a +new kind of fear showed in Janet's face and sounded in her voice. "And, +Rosie, he's just terrible to live with, because he never says a word.... +Don't it beat all the way you long and long for a thing and then, when +you get it, it turns out entirely different! There I used to suppose I'd +be perfectly happy if only he'd stop boozing but now, when I wake up at +night and hear him rolling around and groaning, why, do you know, Rosie, +it scares me to death. It's just like he's fighting something that I +can't see. And the worst is I can't do anything to help him but get up +and make him some more tea." + +Both Rosie and Janet were too familiar with Dave's type to hail as a +happy reformation those first days of struggle. They stood back and +waited, grateful for each day won but as yet not at all confident of the +morrow. + +"He certainly is trying," Rosie would say, and Janet would repeat, a +little dubiously, "Yes, he's trying." + +A day came when she looked tenser and more breathless than usual. "What +do you think, Rosie? He handed me over fifteen dollars this week and ten +last week that I didn't tell you about. I didn't want to too soon. All +he said was, 'You take care of this till your mother comes home.' I'm +paying up the back rent and I've started a savings account at the +Settlement." + +Rosie's eyes opened wide. "Well now, Janet, he certainly does deserve +credit!" As Janet made no comment, Rosie demanded: "Don't you think he +does?" + +Janet's answer was disconcerting. "Why does he deserve credit for doing +what he ought to do?" + +Rosie was a little hurt. "When a person does right, I don't see why +you're so afraid of giving them a little credit." + +"Rosie O'Brien, you're just like all the women! Let a good-for-nothing +drunk sober up for a day or two, and they all go saying, 'The poor +fellow! Ain't he fine! Ain't he noble! He certainly does deserve +credit!' But do you ever hear them giving any credit to the decent +hard-working men who support their families every day of the year? I've +never heard you say that your father deserved credit!" + +This was rather startling and Rosie could only answer stiffly, though +somewhat lamely: "My father's different!" + +"I should think he was different! And when he hands over money which +goes to support his own family, I see you and your mother and the rest +of you falling down on your knees and saying: 'Oh, thank you, dear +father! You are so noble!' Well, that's what you expect me to do to my +old man and that's what he expects, too, because for a week or so he's +been paying the bills he ought to pay. And when I don't say it I wish +you'd see how injured he looks." + +Rosie could not meet the logic of Janet's position, but logic is not +everything in this life. "I don't care what you say, Janet," she +persisted, "I don't think it would hurt you one bit to say 'Thank you' +to him." + +Janet started to answer again, then stopped with a laugh. "Tell you +what, Rosie, I promise you this: I'll say 'Thank you' to him as soon as +you say 'Thank you' to your father for the three meals you eat every +day, for the clothes you wear, for the house you live in." + +It was Rosie's turn to flare up. "Janet McFadden, you're crazy! Haven't +I a right to all those things? Don't I do my share of work in the +family?" + +"Yes, Rosie, you do and I'm not saying that you haven't every right to +them. But why don't you see that I've got the same right? Don't I work +as hard as you? And hasn't my poor mother worked harder than your mother +has ever worked? My father's got out of the way of supporting us, so I'm +not surprised that he thinks he's a wonder when he does it for a couple +of days, but search me if I see why you should think so, too, when your +father has always supported you without saying a word about it." Janet +paused, then ended with a rush: "Oh, don't you see, it would choke me to +say 'Thank you' to him with ma lying there in the hospital like a dead +woman! Why hasn't he always done this? There's nothing he can do now to +make up for all those years. It's too late! Even if she does get well, +she'll never be the same. The nurse told me." Janet hid her face in her +arm and dry gasping sobs began to shake her body. + +"Aw, now, Janet, don't!" Rosie begged. "I see what you mean and I don't +blame you--honest I don't." + +The issue that Janet had raised was a little beyond Rosie's +understanding, but Rosie did realize that Janet was right. Janet's point +of view often startled and dismayed her. As on this occasion she would +always begin disputing it vehemently and end meekly accepting it. + +If Rosie did not make Janet her confidante in regard to the attentions +she was receiving from George, it was because the true inwardness of +that affair was in the nature of a secret between her and Danny Agin. +Rosie was tremendously fond of Janet but, after all, Janet was not her +only friend. Danny Agin, too, had certain rights that must not be +forgotten. Besides, it must be confessed, it was sweet to hear Janet's +"Ohs!" and "Ahs!" over what seemed to be each new evidence of George's +devotion. + +Danny Agin was watching as keenly as Janet the little comedy which he +himself had set in motion. + +"So she looked at you like a black thunder-cloud, did she?" he had said, +with a chuckle, when Rosie had related Ellen's surprise and involuntary +chagrin at George's deflection. + +"Yes," Rosie told him. "And, do you know, Danny, when she tried to guy +Jarge, he was able for her. She called him a craddle-robber and he says: +'I'm not so sure of that. Let's see: I'm about six years older than +Rosie. That means when she's eighteen I'll be twenty-four. That ain't +so bad.' And oh, Danny," Rosie ended, "I wish you could have seen how +mad Ellen was!" + +Danny laughed. "I do see her this minute!" He mused awhile, his eyes +blinking rapidly. "It's this way, Rosie: in any case it's a fine +arrangement for Jarge, for it has a sort of double-barrelled action. +Maybe it'll bring Ellen around. That would suit him fine. But, by the +same token, if it don't bring her around, it won't very much matter, +for, before he knows what he's about, Jarge'll be wakin' up to the fact +that he's havin' just as good a time with another girl as he'd ever be +havin' with Ellen and, once he knows that, good-bye to Ellen and her +tantrums!" + +"Do you really think so, Danny?" Rosie put the question anxiously. + +"Do I think so? I do. What else could I think with the sight I've had of +all the lads I've ever known fallin' in love and most of them fallin' +out again?" + +As usual, Danny's words gave Rosie something to cogitate. "Are you +perfectly sure, Danny, they do sometimes fall out again?" + +Danny raised his right hand to heaven. "I'd be willin' to take me oath +they do! In fact, Rosie darlint, it would shame me to tell you how often +they do!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +ELLEN'S CAREER + + +Danny was a wise old bird whose chirpings were well worth listening to. +What he prophesied for George seemed likely enough of realization. The +new affair, though confessedly pseudo, was cheering from the first. This +was to be expected so long as Ellen, notwithstanding her scoffing, was a +little miffed. Rosie saw, though, that, in spite of being miffed, Ellen +was still perfectly sure that she did not want George for herself. The +only feeling she seemed to have in the matter was annoyance that he +should no longer be wanting her. At first Ellen was so outspoken in this +annoyance that Rosie was able to whisper triumphantly: "You see, Jarge! +Didn't I tell you!" + +There were other things occurring just at this time which served to keep +Ellen irritable and sensitive. Her experience in stenography was, +throughout, unfortunate and was making her see in almost everything that +happened a slight to herself. To Mrs. O'Brien's prolonged amazement, the +heads of various firms continued their insulting treatment of Ellen, +discharging her on the slightest provocation or no provocation whatever, +and never giving the poor girl, so her mother declared, anything like a +fair trial. + +"Now what I would like to know is this:" Mrs. O'Brien would begin in the +evening as soon as Jamie, poor man, was quietly settled for his bedtime +pipe; "how can they know what Ellen can do or what she can't do, never +giving her a decent show? The last six places she's been at they've only +kept her a day or two days at most. It's me own opinion they don't want +a good stenographer. I believe they're jealous of her! I tell you, Jamie +O'Brien, it's fair disgraceful, and if I was a man, which I'm thankful +to say I ain't, I'd go down there and give them fellas a piece of my +mind!" + +To Ellen herself, Mrs. O'Brien was, as usual, both sympathetic and +voluble. "Don't you mind what them fellas say to you, Ellen dear," she +would advise at each fresh disappointment. "You've had as fine a +schoolin' as any of them and there'll come a day when they'll all have +to acknowledge it. And when they talk to you again about your spelling, +you can tell them for me they're mighty smart if they're able to prove +what's the right and what's the wrong way to spell a word nowadays. If I +was you I wouldn't worry me head one minute about a thrifle like +spelling. I'd just go ahead me own way and remember I was a lady and, +take me word for it, some of these days you'll hit an office that is an +office with fine men at the head of it, able to know good work when +they see it and willin' to give credit for it!" + +Ellen shared to a great extent her mother's belief in her own ability, +and she tried to share likewise Mrs. O'Brien's firm conviction that +there was a deep-laid plot to keep her down. In her mother's presence it +was easy enough to believe this, but Ellen was too quick-witted to +deceive herself all the time and, as the days went by and her failure in +stenography grew more and more apparent, she began to lose her air of +aggressive confidence and to show in a new sullenness of manner the +chagrin and the disappointment she was feeling. + +There was no dearth of trial places, as the supply of offices in need of +stenographers seemed to be unlimited. So, in the matter of actual +earnings, Ellen was doing pretty well. Indeed, her first experience was +repeated more than once and she was overpaid in order to be got rid of +more quickly. At such times she took the money greedily in spite of the +attendant mortification. Mrs. O'Brien saw no cause for mortification but +would declare complacently: "Ha, ha, the villians! 'Tis conscience +money, no less, that they're paying you! They know they haven't given +you a fair show! But don't you mind them, Ellen dear. The right office +is comin' yet--you can depend on that!" + +Mrs. O'Brien's faith was steadfast and at length had its reward. Ellen +came home one evening flushed and triumphant. "Well," she announced, +"I've struck it right at last!" Her eyes sparkled with renewed +assurance. "No more running around for me, a day here and a day there! +I'm fixed! Eight dollars a week to begin on and fifty cents advance +every month!" + +"I'm not one bit surprised!" Mrs. O'Brien cried. "I knew just how it +would be! Now tell us all about it!" + +"It's a real estate office," Ellen explained; "Hawes & Cranch. Mr. Hawes +is my man. I'm to take his dictation in the morning and get the work out +in the afternoon and attend to his private phone. It's a big office. +They've got two other stenographers and a book-keeper. By tomorrow Mr. +Hawes is going to have my desk put into his room. He's an awful nice +man. He says he never had any one who took his dictation better and he +says I certainly do understand all about business punctuation." + +"I'm sure you do!" Mrs. O'Brien agreed heartily. + +"And I wasn't there more than a couple of hours when he said he knew I'd +suit and the position was mine if I wanted it." + +"Do you hear that!" Mrs. O'Brien gasped. "I'm not one bit surprised!" + +"And he apologized for starting me so low. He said it was a rule in +their office. He talked like I ought to be getting twenty a week +easily." + +"And so you ought!" Mrs. O'Brien declared. "And I must say, Ellen dear, +if I'm any judge of men, this Mr. Hawes is a fine fella! Mind you're +always respectful to him!" + +Ellen laughed. "He's not that kind of man at all! He's just as friendly +as he can be." + +For a moment her mother was anxious. "I hope, Ellen dear, he's not too +friendly." + +Ellen tossed her head. "Even if he was, I guess I know how to take care +of myself!" + +In Mrs. O'Brien confidence was restored. "Of course you do, Ellen dear. +I trust you for that." + +Terry looked at Ellen sharply. "Say, Sis, is this fellow married?" + +"Er-a-not exactly," Ellen stammered. "I wasn't going to mention it, but +since you ask me I might as well tell. They say he's divorced." + +"Divorced!" That was a word to startle Mrs. O'Brien's soul. "You don't +say so, Ellen! I'm sorry to hear it! I'm not so sure you ought to stay +with him." + +Ellen laughed. "Ma, you make me tired! Divorce is so common nowadays, it +don't mean a thing! Besides, it wasn't his fault. Miss Kennedy, one of +the other stenographers, told me so." + +Mrs. O'Brien was plainly relieved. "I must say I'm glad to hear that. I +suppose now she was one of them dressy, lazy, good-for-nuthin's that +nearly drove the poor fella mad with her extravagance. There are such +women and a lot of them!" + +One of the first results of Ellen's new position was an utter +indifference to George Riley and Rosie and to their little comedy. It +was not so much that she intentionally ignored them as that she did not +see them even when she looked at them--at any rate, did not see them any +more than she would have seen two chairs that occupy so much space and +are not to be stumbled over. There was one subject now and one only that +filled her mind to the exclusion of all others. This was her new +employer. She talked about him constantly, first as Mr. Hawes, then as +Philip Hawes, and soon as Phil. It was "Phil this" and "Phil that" +throughout breakfast and supper. + +In no one but her mother did Ellen arouse any great enthusiasm, but Mrs. +O'Brien was a host in herself and in questions and ejaculations more +than made up for the indifference of the others. + +To his kindness to Ellen during office hours, Hawes was soon adding +social attentions outside office hours, inviting her to places of +amusement in the evening and taking her off on Sunday excursions. + +"He is certainly a very kind-hearted gentleman," Mrs. O'Brien repeatedly +declared; "and it would give me much pleasure to take him by the hand +and tell him so." + +This was a pleasure somewhat doubtful of realization as circumstances +kept preventing the kind-hearted gentleman from making an actual +appearance at the O'Brien home. He wanted to come; he was very anxious +to meet Ellen's family; but he was a busy man and could not always do as +he would like to do. Ellen had to explain this at length, for even Mrs. +O'Brien, easy-going as she was, protested against an escort who hadn't +time either to come for his lady or to bring her home. + +"I don't see why you can't understand!" Ellen would exclaim petulantly. +"Now listen here: wouldn't it take him half an hour to come out here for +me, and another half hour for us to get back to town, and another half +hour for him to bring me home, and another half hour for him to get back +to town himself? That'd be two whole hours. Now I say it would be a +shame to make that poor man spend all that time on the cars just coming +and going." + +At first Mrs. O'Brien would insist: "But, Ellen dear, beaux always do +that way! For me own part I don't think it's nice for you to be comin' +home so late alone. You've never done it before. I don't mind you to be +going downtown to meet him if he's a busy man, yet I must say, Ellen +dear, ..." + +But Ellen was expert at making her mother see reason and Mrs. O'Brien +was soon explaining to George Riley or to any one who would listen: "I +do like to see a girl considerate of a poor tired man, especially if +he's a fine hard-workin' fella like this Mr. Hawes. So I says to Ellen, +'Ellen dear,' says I, 'it's all very well to be accepting the attentions +of a nice gentleman, but remember,' says I, 'he's a tired man with a +load of responsibility on his shoulders and he'd much better be resting +than spending all his time on the street cars just coming and going. +This is a safe neighborhood,' says I, 'and nowadays girls and women are +always coming home alone.' Now I ask you truthfully, ain't that so?" + +It probably was; nevertheless the attitude of the rest of the family +continued to be rather cold and skeptical. "Ain't it a great beau we got +now?" Terry would remark facetiously. "Seems like he's afraid to show +himself, though. Say, Sis, do you have to pay your own carfare?" + +To Rosie's surprise, George Riley paid no heed to the newcomer. Rosie +herself felt that Ellen's absorption in her employer marked very +definitely the failure of Danny Agin's experiment. Ellen never had and +never would care two straws about George Riley and now, with something +else to occupy her mind, she had forgotten even the slight pique which +Rosie's little affair had at first excited. Rosie wondered whether +honesty required her to point this out to George. She tried to once or +twice, but George was so slow at understanding what she was talking +about that at last she desisted. + +The truth was, George was having so good a time playing his and Rosie's +little game that he was in a fair way of forgetting that it was a game. +Not that he was falling in love with Rosie. Rosie was only a little girl +of whom he was tremendously fond and to his northern mind, as to +Rosie's, the idea that a man should fall in love with a little girl was +a preposterous one. His affection for her was founded solidly on the +approval of reason. It had not in it one bit of the wild unreason which +characterized his feeling for Ellen. They were pals, he and Rosie, who +understood and appreciated each other and who enjoyed going off on +little larks together. Since these larks had become a regular thing, +life for George had regained its normal zest, as it does for any man +once fresh interests begin to occupy the leisure moments heretofore +given up to a fruitless passion. A look, a word, would have awakened the +old passion, but for the present no look was being given, no word +spoken. + +So Rosie, seeing George happy, could only sigh, hoping it wasn't +cheating on her part not to tell him the truth. Except for this scruple +of conscience, she was very happy herself. Her little world was jogging +comfortably along: Geraldine was well; for Janet McFadden life seemed to +be brightening; and for Janet as well as Rosie the waning summer was +affording many treats. Janet's cousin, Tom Sullivan, was making a good +deal of money on summer jobs and was squandering his earnings lavishly +on his two lady friends. + +"Just think, Rosie," Janet announced one day, "Tom wants to give us +another picnic! You know I've always told you how generous he is." + +"I know he is," Rosie agreed. "Tom sure is nice. It wouldn't surprise me +one bit if he grows up as nice as Jarge Riley. What's this new picnic, +and when is it to be?" + +"For Labour Day. He says he'll pay Jackie to take your papers and that +you and me and him will all go downtown to the parade. After the parade +we'll eat supper at a restaurant and after that we'll go to the movies." +Janet paused, then concluded impressively: "He made two whole dollars +last week and he's willing to blow in every cent of it on us!" + +"You don't say so!" Rosie shook her head and clucked her tongue in +amazement as deep as Janet's own. + +"You'll come, won't you, Rosie?" + +Rosie hesitated. "I'll come if I can. I mean I will if Jarge Riley +hasn't something on. If he's off on Labour Day afternoon, of course +he'll want me and I'll have to be with him." + +"Of course," Janet agreed. "But maybe he won't get off. I wonder how +soon he'll know?" + +"I'll ask him tonight," Rosie promised. "Let's see: today's Thursday and +Labour Day's next Monday. I ought to be able to let Tom know early on +Saturday." + +"I think I'm going to be off," George told her that night in answer to +her inquiry. "I switch around to a late run tomorrow night, but I won't +know until tomorrow whether I'm going to keep it regular. What do you +want to do tomorrow night? Ride down with me on my last trip? Then we'd +stop and get a soda on the way home." + +"Thank you, Jarge, I think that would be very nice. And you can write me +a little note about Labour Day and hand it to me when I get on the +car." + +George's face fell. "Won't talking be good enough?" + +"No, Jarge, it'll be better to write. You're doing beautifully in your +letters but you must keep them up." + +George sighed but murmured an obedient: "All right." + +The next evening Rosie was at the corner in good time and, promptly to +the minute, George's car came by. It was an open summer car with seats +straight across and an outside running board. Rosie climbed into the +last seat, which was so close to the rear platform where George stood +that it was almost as good as having George beside her. When there were +no other passengers on the same seat, George could lean in and chat +sociably. + +"Here's a letter for you," he announced, as Rosie settled herself. He +gave her a little folded paper and at the same time slipped a dime into +her hand with which, in all propriety, she was to pay her carfare. + +"I'll answer your note tomorrow," Rosie said. + +Duty called George to the front of the car and Rosie peeped hastily into +his letter. "_My dear little Sweetheart,_" it ran; "_Say, what do you +think? I'm off Labour Day afternoon, so we can go to the Parade. Say, +kid, I'm just crazy about you. George._" + +So that settled the Tom Sullivan business. Rosie felt a little sorry +about Tom because Tom did like her. It couldn't be helped, though, for a +girl simply can't divide herself up into sections for all the men that +want her. She would let Tom down as easily as possible. It might comfort +him to take her to the movies. Rosie could easily manage that by +suggesting a time when George Riley was busy. + +The car was pretty well filled on the down trip, so George had little +time for chatting. Rosie was patient as she knew that, on the return +trip, the car would be empty or nearly so. + +"All out!" George cried at the end of the route, and everybody but Rosie +meekly obeyed. + +George was about to pull the bell, when Rosie called: "Wait, Jarge! +There comes a girl!" + +The girl was half running, half staggering, and George stepped off the +car to help her on. As the light of the car fell on the girl's face, +Rosie jumped to her feet, crying out in amazement: "Ellen!" + +Yes, it was Ellen, but not an Ellen they had ever seen before--an Ellen +with hat awry and trembling hands and a face red and swollen with +weeping. + +"George!" she sobbed hysterically, "is that you! I'm so glad! You'll +take me home, won't you? I haven't got a cent of carfare!" + +George helped her into the seat beside Rosie and started the car. Then +he leaned in over Rosie and demanded: + +"What's the matter, Ellen? What's happened?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE KIND-HEARTED GENTLEMAN + + +For several moments Ellen sobbed and shook without trying to speak. +Then, instead of answering George's question, she turned solemnly to +Rosie. "Oh, kid," she begged, "promise me you'll never have anything to +do with a man like Philip Hawes!" There was an unexpected tenderness in +her tone but this, far from touching Rosie, stirred up all the +antagonism in her nature. Why, forsooth, should Ellen be giving her such +advice? Was she the member of the family who was given to chasing men +like Philip Hawes? Rosie sat up stiffly and turned her face straight +ahead. + +Upon George the effect of Ellen's words was different. He leaned farther +in, his neck surging with blood, his little eyes growing round and +fierce. "What do you mean, Ellen? Has that fellow been insulting you?" + +Ellen was sobbing again and swaying herself back and forth. "Oh, George, +I'm so humiliated I feel like I could never hold up my head again!" + +George's strong fist was clenching and unclenching. "What did that +fellow do to you?" + +"It was my own fault!" Ellen wailed. "He was perfectly right: I knew +what he was after all along. Any girl would know. But I was so sure I +could hold my own all right. Oh, what fools girls are!" Ellen went off +into another doleful wail. "Of course he had given hints before and I +had always let on I didn't understand him. But tonight he came right out +with it. He put it straight up to me and when I wouldn't, oh, I can't +tell you the awful things he said!" + +George breathed hard. "So he's that kind of a scoundrel, is he?" + +"And, George," Ellen wept, "I'm not that kind of a girl! Honest I'm not! +Am I, Rosie?" + +Rosie, frozen and miserable, with a sickening realization of how things +were going to end, was still looking straight ahead. She wanted to +answer Ellen's question with a truthful, "I am sure I don't know what +kind of a girl you are!" but something restrained her and she said +nothing. + +Ellen seemed hardly to expect an answer, for she went on immediately: +"I've been a fool, George, an awful fool; I see that now; but I've +always been straight--honest I have! You can ask everybody that knows +me!" + +George was breathing with difficulty. "I'd like to get at that Hawes +fellow for about five minutes! Will he be in his office tomorrow, around +noon?" + +Ellen wrung protesting hands. "No, George, you won't do any such thing! +I won't let you! You'll only get pulled in! Besides, he was right! +Leastways, he was in some things! Of course I knew what he was always +hinting about but honest, George, I didn't know the rest!" + +"What didn't you know?" + +"I didn't know my work was so bad that he'd been getting it done over +every day! I know I'm pretty poor at it. I know perfectly well why I was +never able to keep a job. But he kept saying that I suited him just +right and I was such a fool that I thought I did.... And, George, we +were having supper at one of those sporty places out on the Island. I +knew it wasn't a nice place, but I thought it was all right because I +had an escort. And he kept talking louder and louder until the people at +the other tables could hear and they began laughing and joking. Then +some one shouted, 'Throw her out!' and I got so frightened I could +hardly stand up. I don't know how I got away. And, George, I hadn't +enough money in my bag for a ticket on the boat and some man gave me a +dime...." + +The car went on with scarcely a stop the whole way out. Occasionally the +motorman looked back, inquisitive to know what the matter was but too +far away to hear. Some time before they reached the end of the route, +Ellen had finished her story. The recital relieved her overwrought +feelings; her sobs quieted; her tears ceased. By the time they alighted +from the car, her manner had regained its usual composure. + +She and Rosie waited outside the office until George had made out his +accounts and deposited his collections. Then all three started home. + +For half an hour Rosie had not spoken. Neither of the others knew this, +for Ellen, of course, had been too engrossed in herself, and George too +engrossed in her, to notice it. Rosie was with them but not of them. She +walked beside them now close enough to touch them with her hand but +feeling separated from them by worlds of space. Her heart was like a +little lump of ice that hurt her every time it beat. She waited in a +sort of frozen misery for what she felt sure was coming. At last it +came. + +"George," Ellen began. There was a note of soft pleading in her voice +that Rosie had never heard before. "Oh, George, I wonder if you'll ever +forgive me for the way I've been treating you?" + +"Aw, go on!" George's words were gruff but their tone fairly trembled +with joy. + +"I mean it, George," Ellen went on. "I've been as many kinds of a fool +as a girl can be and I'm so ashamed of myself that I can hardly talk." + +"Aw, Ellen," George pleaded. + +"And I've been horribly selfish, too, and I've imposed on ma and Rosie +here until they both must hate me." Ellen paused but Rosie made no +denial. "And I've treated you like a dog, George, making fun of you and +insulting you and teasing you. And, George, of all the men I've ever +known you're the only one that's clean and honest right straight +through. I see that now." + +Ellen began crying softly, making pathetic little noises that irritated +Rosie beyond measure but were like to reduce George to a state of utter +helplessness. + +"Aw, Ellen," he begged, "please don't talk that way!" + +But Ellen wanted to talk that way. She insisted on talking that way. Her +pride had been dragged in the dust but, by this time, she was finding +that dust, besides being choking, is also warm and friendly and +soothing. Enforced humiliation is bitter but, once accepted, how sweet +it is, how comforting! Witness the saints and martyrs, and be not +surprised that Ellen O'Brien finally acknowledged as true all the +charges her late admirer had made. The fact was he had been too gentle +with her! She was worse, far worse than even he had supposed. She didn't +see how any one could ever again tolerate the mere sight of her! + +"Oh, George, how you must hate me!" she murmured brokenly. + +"Hate you!" George protested breathlessly. "Why, kid, I'm just crazy +about you!" + +Rosie, listening, caught her breath sharply. Her phrase, which she had +laboured hard to teach him! But where had he got the deep vibrating tone +with which he spoke it? Rosie had never heard that before. + +After a moment, Ellen quavered: "Even--even yet, George?" + +"Even yet!" George cried in the same wonderful voice that sent little +thrills up and down Rosie's back. "Why, Ellen girl, don't you know that +ever since the first day I saw you you've been the onliest girl for me!" + +His arm was around her now, straining her to him, and Rosie knew, but +for her own presence, he would be kissing her. + +"I--I don't see why, George." + +"But it's so, Ellen, it's so!" + +They walked on a few moments in silence. Then George began soberly: "Of +course, Ellen, you know I'm only a farmer and you know you've always +said you'd never live in the country." + +"George, don't remind me of all the foolish things I've said! Please, +don't! Why, if I could go to the country this minute, I'd go and never +come back! I hate the city! I wish I'd never have to see it again!" + +George gasped an incredulous, "Really, Ellen? Do you really mean it?" + +"Yes, really!" Ellen declared vehemently and George, untroubled to +account for this sudden revulsion of feeling, threw up his head with a +joyous laugh. + +When they reached home, George said to Ellen: "Don't you want to sit out +here on the porch a little while?" + +Nobody invited Rosie to stay. She hesitated a moment, then said primly: +"Good-night, everybody." + +[Illustration: She read it again by the light of the candle.] + +"Good-night," they chorused politely, as they might to any stranger. + +Rosie started in, then turned back. "And, Jarge, I forgot to tell you +about Monday afternoon. I'm sorry I can't go with you but Tom Sullivan +invited me first." + +"That so?" George said, and from his tone, Rosie knew that he didn't +understand what she was talking about. Worse still, he wasn't interested +enough to find out. + +Rosie dragged herself slowly upstairs. In the bedroom, when she felt for +matches, she discovered that her hand was still clutching the note which +George had given her earlier in the evening. She read it again by the +light of the candle. "_... Say, kid, I'm just crazy about you!..._" +Jackie turned over in his sleep and Rosie hastily blew out the candle +for fear he should open his eyes and see her tears. + +She groped her way to bed in the dark and wept herself miserably to +sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +ELLEN MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT + + +The next morning at breakfast Ellen declared herself. She addressed her +mother, but what she had to say was for the whole family. + +"I just want to tell you, Ma, I'm done with stenography forever. 'Tain't +my line and I know it and I should have known it long ago. Now you +needn't argue because that's all there is about it." + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at Ellen blankly. "Why--why, Ellen dear," she +stammered, "what's this I hear you saying?" + +Ellen repeated her announcement slowly and distinctly. + +"But, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien protested, "how can you talk so and the +beautiful way you've been getting on and the beautiful way Mr. Hawes has +been treating you? And what will Mr. Hawes say--poor, kind-hearted +gentleman that he is! Oh, Ellen dear, with your fine looks and your fine +education I beg you not to throw it all away!" + +Mrs. O'Brien mopped her eyes with her apron and pleaded on. It did not +occur to her to ask the reason for Ellen's sudden decision. After all, +sudden decisions were merely characteristic of Ellen. Terence, however, +peered at his sister sharply. + +"Huh! Seems to me stenography was all right yesterday! What's happened +to make you change your mind? Did that Hawes fellow say something to you +last night at the Island?" + +Ellen had decided that the family were not to know the details of the +previous night's adventure and, before they came down in the morning, +she had pledged Rosie to secrecy. Yet some sort of explanation had to be +offered. She looked at Terry now with a candour that was new to her and +that did much to win his support. + +"Terry," she began slowly, with none of her usual aggressiveness, "you +always thought my going to that business college and trying to do office +work was foolish. You've said so all along. I didn't use to believe you +were right but I do now. I'd never do decent office work in a hundred +years. I'm sorry all the money you and dad had to put up and I'll pay +you back if I can." + +"Gee!" murmured Terry in astonishment, "you sure must have got some +blowing up to make you feel that way about it!" + +"Well, that's the way I do feel," Ellen said quietly. + +"But, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien wailed, "you don't mean it--I know you don't! +Why, what'll you do if you throw up this fine position with Mr. Hawes? +Nowadays a girl can't sit at home and do nothing! She's either got to +work or get married." Mrs. O'Brien paused with a new idea which her own +words suggested to her. "Is it--is it that you're getting married?" + +Ellen spoke quickly: "Ma, I expect to work and I'm going to work. But +I'm going to do something I can do well." + +"That you can do well!" echoed Mrs. O'Brien. "I don't rightly catch your +meanin', Ellen. Here you've landed a fine position and your boss is a +nice friendly gentleman and now you're turning your back on it all to +take up something else! I don't understand you at all, at all! And to +think," Mrs. O'Brien concluded brokenly, "of the skirts and shirtwaists +that I've stayed up all hours of the night to iron for you, just to keep +you lookin' sweet and clean down at that office!" + +"Ma, I'm sorry to disappoint you--honest I am. But, don't you see, it's +just this way: I've made a bad mistake and the sooner I get out of it +the better it will be for me. What I ought to do is something I can do." + +"Something you can do, indeed! And will you tell me, me lady, what is it +you can do so much better than stenography?" + +Ellen flushed but answered firmly: "I can trim hats." + +"Trim hats!" screamed Mrs. O'Brien. "What's this ye're sayin'? Do you +mean to tell me that you're willing to be a milliner when you might be +a stenographer? Why, anybody at all can go and be a milliner!" + +"Anybody can't be a fine milliner. And you needn't think there isn't +good money in millinery. The head of a big millinery department gets a +couple of thousand a year!" + +Mrs. O'Brien blinked her eyes. "Has some one been offering you that kind +of a position?" Her tears ceased to flow. Once again she beamed on Ellen +with all her old-time pride. "Ah, Ellen, you rogue, you're keeping +something back! Come, tell me what's happened!" + +Ellen sighed helplessly. "Ma, I'm trying to tell you, but you make it +awful hard for me. You go off every minute and don't give me a chance to +finish." + +Mrs. O'Brien folded her hands complacently. "Ellen dear, I won't utter +another syllable--I promise you I won't. Now tell me in two words what's +happened." + +"Well, Ma, it's this: I'm through with stenography and I'm going in for +millinery, which I think I can do better." + +"But where, Ellen, where are you going in for it? That's the great +p'int!" + +"I'm going to try Hattie Graydon's aunt first. She always says that not +one of the girls in her shop begins to have the taste that I've got, and +one time she told me if ever I wanted a job to come to her." + +The happy look in Mrs. O'Brien's face slowly faded. Tears again filled +her eyes. "And is that all you've got to tell me?" + +"Yes, Ma, that's all. I'm going down to see Miss Graydon this morning." + +"Oh, Ellen, Ellen, to think of your doing a thing like that without +asking the advice of a soul! You're a foolish, headstrong girl!" + +Ellen dropped her eyes. "George Riley thinks I'm doing right." + +Mrs. O'Brien looked up sharply. + +"Jarge Riley indeed! And may I ask what Jarge Riley's got to with it?" + +"George and me are friends again. I thought I better tell you." + +In Mrs. O'Brien amazement took the place of grief. "Ellen O'Brien, do +you mean to tell me that you've took up with Jarge Riley when you might +have had a gentleman like Mr. Hawes?" + +The flush that her mother's words excited was one of anger as well as +embarrassment. "Ma, you listen to me: I've never once told you that I +might have Mr. Hawes! You've made that up yourself!" + +"Made it up myself, indeed! when he's been taking you out night after +night and treating you like a real lady!" + +"And what's more," Ellen went on vehemently, "George Riley's worth +twenty Philip Hawses!" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her sharply. "Is it that you're going to marry +Jarge Riley?" + +Ellen, breathing hard, made answer a little unsteadily: "Yes." + +Mrs. O'Brien dropped back limply into her chair. "Mercy on us!" she +wailed, "and is this the end of your fine looks and your fine +education--to marry a farmer like Jarge Riley! Why, you could have had +him without any business college or nothing!" + +Ellen stood up and Mrs. O'Brien, her face woe-begone and tragic, made +one last appeal: "Ellen O'Brien, I ask you in all seriousness, are you +determined to throw yourself away like that?" + +Ellen was nothing if not determined. "I'm going down to Miss Graydon's +now," she said in a casual tone which ended all discussion; "and me and +George will probably get married in the spring." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE HAPPY LOVER + + +It was several days before Mrs. O'Brien regained her usual complacency. +"'Tain't that I've got anything against you, Jarge," she explained many +times to her prospective son-in-law. "I'm really fond of you and I treat +you like one of me own. But what with her fine looks and her fine +education I was expecting something better for Ellen. Why, Jarge, she +ought to be marrying a Congressman at least. Now I ask you frankly, +don't you think so yourself?" + +For George the situation was far from a happy one. To be the confidant +of Mrs. O'Brien in this particular disappointment was embarrassing, to +say the least. Moreover, certain of Mrs. O'Brien's objections were +somewhat difficult to meet and yet they had to be met and met often, for +Mrs. O'Brien harped on them constantly. + +"And, Jarge dear, if you do go marry her and carry her off to the +country, what will you do with her out there? Tell me that, now! For +meself I can't see Ellen milkin' a cow." + +[Illustration: To be the confidant of Mrs. O'Brien in this particular +disappointment was embarrassing, to say the least.] + +George tried hard to explain that milking cows was not the only activity +open to a farmer's wife; that, in all probability, Ellen would never be +called on to milk a cow. His protests were vain, for, to Mrs. O'Brien, +milking a cow stood not so much for a definite occupation as for a +general symbol of country life. George might talk an hour and very often +did and, at the end of that time, Mrs. O'Brien would sigh mournfully and +remark: "Say what you will, Jarge, I tell you one thing: I can't see +Ellen milkin' a cow." + +Moreover, life with Ellen was not at once the long sweet song that +George had expected. Not that she was the old imperious Ellen of biting +speech and quick temper. She was not. All that was passed. She was quiet +now, and docile, anxious to please and always ready for anything he +might suggest. Would she like a street-car ride tonight? Yes, a +street-car ride would be very nice. Or the movies or a walk? She would +like whatever he wanted. Her gentleness touched him but caused him +disquiet, too, because he could not help realizing that a great part of +it was apathy. One thing pleased her as much as another, which is pretty +nearly the same as saying one thing bored her as much as another. + +"But, Ellen," he protested more than once, "you don't have to go if you +don't want to!" + +"Oh, I want to," she would insist in tones that were far from +convincing. + +George could not help recalling the eager joy with which Rosie used to +greet each new expedition. Why wasn't Ellen the same, he wondered in +helpless perplexity. He went through all the little attentions which +Rosie had taught him and a thousand more, and Ellen received them with a +quiet, "Thanks," or a half-hearted, "You're awful kind, George." + +"Kind nuthin'!" he shouted once. "I don't believe you care one straw for +me or for anything I do for you!" + +His outburst startled her and, for a moment, she faltered. Then she +said: "I don't see how you can say that, George. I think you're just as +good and kind as you can be." + +"Good and kind!" he spluttered. "What do I care about being good and +kind? What I want is love!" + +"Well, don't I love you?" She looked at him beseechingly and put her +hand on his shoulder. Her caresses were infrequent and this one, slight +as it was, was enough to fire his blood and muddle his understanding. + +"You do love me, don't you?" he begged, pulling her to him, and she, as +usual, submitting without a protest, said, yes, she did. + +A word, a touch, and Ellen could always silence any misgiving. But such +misgivings had a way of returning, once George was alone. Then he would +wish that he had Rosie to talk things over with. He was used to talking +things over with Rosie. For some reason, though, he never saw Rosie now +except for a moment when she handed him his supper-pail each evening at +the cars. At other times she seemed always to be out on errands or on +jaunts with Janet and Tom Sullivan. George looked upon Tom as a jolly +decent youngster and he was pleased that the intimacy between him and +Rosie was growing. But at the same time he could not help feeling a +little hurt that Rosie should so completely forget him. True, he was +bound up heart and soul in Ellen and now he was her accepted lover. +That, it seemed to him, ought to be happiness enough and he told himself +that it was enough. Then he would sigh and wonder why he wasn't as +light-heartedly gay as he used to be when he and Rosie went about +together. Rosie, apparently, had entirely forgotten what good chums they +once had been. Well, after all, he couldn't blame her, for she was only +a child. + +George did not know and probably never would know that Rosie was +watching him and watching over him with all the faithfulness of a little +dog and that she knew all there was to know of the situation between him +and Ellen. + +George had set the latter part of September as the time for his return +to the country. For four long years he had been working and saving for +this very event. Several times before he had been about to leave but +always, at the last moment, some untoward circumstance had crippled his +finances and he had been forced to stay on in the city another few +months. Now for the first time he could go and now he was loath to go. +But he had made his announcement and all his little world was standing +about, waiting to see him off and to bid him god-speed. + +He was ashamed to acknowledge even to himself the indecision that was +tugging at his heart. "Don't you think, Ellen," he ventured at last, "it +might be just as well if I waited till Christmas?" + +"Oh, George!" Ellen looked at him with a shocked expression. "I don't +see how you can say such a thing after the way you've been waiting all +these years! Besides, what would your poor mother say if you didn't come +now that you could? You've told me yourself how the burden of things has +fallen on her more and more and how anxious you are to relieve her." + +"I know," George acknowledged; "but, Ellen girl, don't you see I can't +bear to leave you now I've got you. I've had you for such a little +while!" + +"Won't you have me just the same, even if you are in the country? +Besides, you'll be getting things ready for me by spring." + +George took a sharp breath. "But I want you now!" + +Ellen looked at him gravely. "See here, George, there's no use talking +that way. You've got to work and I've got to work, and if we don't get +our work done this winter it'll be all the worse for both of us when +spring comes. Your father's expecting to hand over the management of the +farm to you this fall and it's up to you to take it. Ain't I right?" + +George sighed. "I suppose you are." + +"Then don't be foolish. Besides you can come down and see me at +Thanksgiving." + +George gasped. "Why, Ellen, I expect to see you before that! I could +come in and stay over Sunday 'most any week." + +"No, George, you mustn't do that! I won't let you!" Ellen spoke +vehemently. "It would only cost you money and you know perfectly well +you need every cent of cash you've got! Once you're back in the country +you won't be getting in three dollars a day ready money. No! You'll come +to see me Thanksgiving and not before." + +Ellen was right. It would be necessary for him to hoard like a miser his +little stock of money until the farm should once again be on a paying +basis. + +George sighed gloomily and went about his preparations for departure. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE SISTERS + + +Ellen and Rosie saw him off. Rosie wept openly. + +"And, Jarge," she said, kissing him good-bye, "give your mother and your +father my love, but especially your mother. Tell her that I love her and +that I think of her every day. You won't forget, will you? And tell her +that Geraldine is fat and well and has been ever since we got home from +the country." + +"Good-bye, George," Ellen said quietly. Her face was pale and there was +a strained expression about eyes and mouth. + +"Oh, Ellen!" George gave her one last wild kiss and rushed madly through +the gate. + +His coach was far down the train shed and Rosie and Ellen soon lost +sight of his hurrying figure. They stood together at the gate and waited +until the train started. + +As it pulled away Ellen sighed deeply. "Thank goodness he's gone!" She +leaned against the grating and laughed hysterically. + +Rosie, who had been dabbing her eyes with a wet handkerchief, looked up +blankly. "Ellen O'Brien, what do you mean? Are you glad he's gone?" + +"You bet I'm glad!" Ellen's silly high-pitched laugh continued until +silenced by Rosie's look of scornful fury. + +"Ellen O'Brien, you're worse than I thought you were!" + +Ellen faltered a moment, then reached toward Rosie appealingly. "Don't +be too hard on me, Rosie. You don't know the awful time I've had. I feel +like I've been dead. I haven't been able to breathe. I don't mean it was +his fault. I think as much of him as you do--really I do. He's good and +he's kind and he's honest and he's everything he ought to be. But if +he'd ha' stayed much longer I'd ha' smothered." + +Rosie, accusing angel and stern judge rolled into one, demanded gravely: +"And now that he's gone what are you going to do?" + +"What am I going to do?" Ellen's laugh was still a little beyond her +control, but it had in it a note of happy relief that was unmistakable. +"I'm going to live again--at least for the little time that's left me." + +"What do you mean by 'the little time that's left you'?" + +"From now till Thanksgiving; from Thanksgiving till spring." For an +instant Ellen's face clouded. Then she cried: "But I'm not going to +think of spring! I'm going to have my fling now!" + +Rosie looked at her without speaking and, as she looked, it seemed to +her that the Ellen of other days rose before her. It was as though a +pale nun-like creature had been going about in Ellen's body, answering +to Ellen's name. Now, at George's departure as at the touch of a magic +wand, the old Ellen was back with eyes that sparkled once again and +cheeks into which the colour was returning in waves. Yes, she was the +old Ellen, eager for life and excitement and thirsting for admiration. +But the old Ellen with a difference. Now, instead of estranging Rosie +utterly with careless bravado, she strove to win her understanding. + +"You don't know how I feel, Rosie; you can't, because you and me are +made differently. You're perfectly happy if you've got some one to love +and take care of--you know you are! With me it's different. I don't want +to take care of people and work for them and slave for them. I want to +have a good time myself! I'm just crazy about it! I know I ought to be +ashamed, but can I help it? That's the way I am. Do you think I'm very +awful, Rosie?" + +Rosie answered truthfully: "I'm not thinking of you at all. I'm thinking +of poor Jarge." + +Ellen gave a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness I can give up thinking of +him for a while." She began patting her hair and arranging her hat. "Do +I look all right, Rosie? I got to hurry back to the shop. A feather +salesman is coming today and Miss Graydon wants me to take care of him. +He'll probably invite me out to lunch." + +"And are you going?" Rosie asked slowly. + +Ellen took a long happy breath. "You bet I'm going!" + +"Ellen O'Brien, if you do, I'll tell Jarge! I will just as sure!" + +For an instant Ellen was staggered. Then she recovered. "No, Rosie, +you'll do no such thing! What you'll do is this: you'll mind your own +business!" + +Rosie tried to protest but her voice failed her, for the look in Ellen's +eye betokened a will as strong as her own and a determination to brook +no interference. + +Ellen started off, then paused to repeat: "You'll mind your own +business! Do you understand?" + +Ellen walked on and Rosie called after her, a little wildly: "I won't! I +won't! I tell you I won't!" + +But she knew she would. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +ELLEN HAS HER FLING + + +It is hard to be the self-appointed guardian of another's interests, for +one's standing is not, as it were, official. In the weeks that followed +Rosie felt this keenly. She gave up protesting to Ellen, for Ellen's +curt answer to everything she might say was always: "You mind your own +business!" Though she would not accept Ellen's dictum that George's +business was not hers, yet she was soon forced to give up direct action +and to seek her end through the interference of others. She tried her +mother. + +"I don't care what you say, Ma, Ellen's just as crooked as she can be, +acting this way with other fellows when she doesn't even deny that she's +engaged to Jarge. And you ought to stop it, too! There, the very first +week he was gone, she went out three nights hand-running with that +feather man from St. Louis. You know she did! And now she's got that new +little dude with an off eye and, besides, Larry Finn's come back. I tell +you it ain't fair to Jarge and you're to blame, too, if you don't stop +it!" + +Mrs. O'Brien shared with Rosie the conviction that an engaged girl +ought not so much as raise her eyes to other men. She was done forever +with all men but one. Ellen, for some reason, did not feel this +instinctively and, if a girl does not feel it instinctively, how is she +to be made to feel it? Mrs. O'Brien sighed. Unknown to Rosie she had +tried to speak to Ellen. Ellen had not let her go very far. + +"Say, Ma, you dry up!" she had told her shortly. "I guess I know what +I'm doing." + +"I'm sure you do," Mrs. O'Brien had murmured in humble apology; "but, +Ellen dear, be careful! There's a lot of people know you're engaged to +Jarge and I'm afraid they'll be talkin'." + +"Let 'em talk!" was Ellen's snappish answer. + +So when Rosie approached her mother on the same subject, Mrs. O'Brien +hemmed and hawed and ended by offering a defence of Ellen which sounded +hollow even to herself. "As for that feather fella, Rosie dear, you +mustn't get excited about him. It's a matter of business to keep him +jollied. Miss Graydon wants Ellen to be nice to him. And, as I says to +Ellen, 'If that's the case,' says I, 'of course you've got to accept his +little attentions. Miss Graydon,' says I, 'is your employer and a girl +ought always to please her employer.' As you know yourself, Rosie, +Ellen's certainly getting on beautifully in that shop. Miss Graydon told +me herself the other night that she had never had a girl so quick and +tasty with her needle and when I told her about me own poor dead +sister, Birdie, she said that explained it." + +"But, Ma," Rosie cried, "what about poor Jarge?" + +"Jarge? Why, Jarge is all right. He's out there in the country and you +know yourself he's crazy about the country. And more than that, Ellen +writes him a picture postcard every week. She gave me her word she'd do +it. I couldn't very well insist on her writing a letter, for you know +her long hours at the shop and it wouldn't be right to ask her to use +her eyes at night. 'But, Ellen dear,' says I to her, 'promise me +faithfully you'll never let a week go by without sending him a picture +postcard.' And she gave me her word she wouldn't." + +Mrs. O'Brien could always be depended on to obscure reason in a dust of +words, especially at times when it would be embarrassing to face reason +in the open. After three or four attempts to arouse her mother to some +sort of action, Rosie had to give up. She felt as keenly as ever that +George was being basely betrayed, but she saw no way to protect him. She +had not written to him since he left, but she wrote every week to his +mother on the pretext that Mrs. Riley was deeply interested in Geraldine +and must be kept informed of Geraldine's growth and health. Rosie always +put in a sentence about Ellen: "Ellen's very busy but very well," or +"Ellen's hours are much longer now than they used to be and she hasn't +so very much time to herself, but she likes millinery, so it's all +right,"--always something that would assure George of Ellen's well-being +and excuse, if necessary, her silence. Rosie hated herself for thus +apparently shielding Ellen but, in her anxiety to spare George, she +would have gone to almost any length. + +A sort of family pride kept her from confiding her worries to Janet +McFadden. Soon after George's departure she had remarked to Janet: "You +oughtn't to be surprised because you know the kind of girl Ellen is. +She's just got to amuse herself. Besides, you can't exactly blame her +because poor Jarge'd want her to have a good time." This attitude had +not in the least deceived Janet, but Janet was too tactful to question +it. + +The reasons for not talking to Janet did not apply to Danny Agin, who, +being old and of another generation, was philosophical rather than +personal and had long since mastered the art of forgetting confidences +when forgetting was more graceful than remembering. So at last Rosie +opened her heart to Danny. + +"Now take an engaged girl, Danny." + +Rosie paused and Danny, nodding his head, said: "For instance, a girl +like Ellen." + +Rosie was glad enough to be definite. "I don't mind telling you, Danny, +that it's Ellen I'm talking about. I just don't know what to do about it +and maybe you'll be able to help me." + +Danny listened carefully while Rosie slowly unfolded her story. "And, +Danny," she said, as she reached the present in her narrative, "that St. +Louis fellow's just dead gone on her--that's all there is about it. He's +sending her picture postcards every day or every other day. I can't help +knowing because they come to the house. I suppose he doesn't like to +send them to the shop where the other girls would see them. He used to +sign the postcards with his full name but now he only signs 'Harry.' +Now, Danny, do you think it's nice for a girl that's engaged to let +another fella send her postcards and sign 'em 'Harry'?" + +Danny ruminated a moment. "Well, if you ask me, Rosie, I don't believe +that's so awful bad." + +"But, Danny, that ain't all! Listen here: last week he sent a big box of +candy from Cleveland and this morning another box came from Pittsburg. +And there was a postcard this morning and what do you think it said? 'I +just can't wait till Saturday night!' And it was signed, 'With love, +Harry.' Now, Danny, what can that mean? I bet anything he's coming to +spend Sunday with her and, if he does come, what in the world am I to do +about it?" + +Danny patted her hand gently. "Rosie dear, I don't see that you're to do +anything about it. Why do you want to do anything? Isn't it Ellen's +little party?" + +Rosie shook off his hand impatiently. "I don't care about Ellen's side +of it! I'm thinking about Jarge! This kind of thing ain't square to +him, and that's all there is about it!" + +"Of course it ain't," Danny agreed. "But, after all, Rosie, if Ellen +prefers Harry to Jarge, I don't see what we can do about it." + +"But, Danny, she's engaged to Jarge!" + +"Well, maybe she'll get disengaged." + +Rosie shook her head. "You don't know Jarge. Jarge is a fighter. And +I'll tell you something else: once he gets a thing he never gives it up. +Now he's got Ellen or he thinks he's got her and he's going to keep her, +too. You just ought to see him when he's around Ellen. He's awful, +Danny, honest he is! He's so crazy about her that he forgets everything +else. If he thought she was fooling him, I think he might kill +her--really, Danny. And she's afraid of him, too. Why, if she wasn't +afraid of him, she'd break her engagement in a minute and tell him so. I +know that as well as I know anything. She expects to marry him. She's +scared not to now. But that don't keep her from letting those other +fellows act the fool with her. And if Jarge hears about them, I tell you +one thing: there's going to be the deuce to pay. Excuse the language, +Danny, but it's true." + +Danny was impressed but not as impressed as Rosie expected. "That's +worse than I thought," he admitted; "but I don't see that there's any +great danger. Jarge is in the country and not likely to pop in on her, +is he?" + +"No," Rosie answered, "he's not coming till Thanksgiving." + +"Thanksgiving, do you say? Well, that's four weeks off. Plenty of things +can happen in four weeks." + +In spite of herself, Rosie began to feel reassured. "But, Danny," she +insisted, "even if it's not dangerous, don't you think it's crooked for +a girl that's engaged to let other men give her presents and take her +out?" + +"Maybe it is and maybe it ain't. I dunno. It's hard to make a rule about +it. You see it's this way, Rosie: When a girl's engaged she's usually in +love with the fella she's engaged to, or why is she engaged to him? Now, +when she's in love, she don't want presents from any but one man. +Presents from other fellas don't interest her. So, you see, there's no +need to be makin' a rule, for the thing settles itself. Now if Ellen is +getting presents from this new fella, Harry, it looks to me like she +ain't very much in love with Jarge." + +"That's exactly what I'm telling you, Danny. She's not." + +"So the likelihood is, she's not going to marry Jarge." Danny concluded +with a smile that was intended to cheer Rosie. + +"I wish she wasn't," Rosie murmured. Then she added hastily: "No, I +don't mean that, because it would break Jarge's heart!" + +Danny scoffed: "Break Jarge's heart, indeed! Many a young hothead +before Jarge has had a broken heart and got over it!" + +"But, Danny," Rosie wailed, "you don't know Jarge!" + +There were such depths of tenderness in Rosie's tone that Danny checked +the smile which was on his lips and made the hearty declaration: "He +sure is a fine lad, this same Jarge!" + +"Well, Danny, listen here: if Harry comes on Saturday, shall I tell +Jarge?" + +Danny looked at her kindly. "Mercy on us, Rosie, what a worryin' little +hen you are! If you ask me advice, I'd say: Let Saturday take care of +itself." + +Rosie wiped her eyes slowly. "It's all very well for you to talk that +way. But I tell you one thing: if Jarge was your dear friend like he's +mine, you wouldn't want to stand by and see this Harry fella cut him +out." + +Danny gave a non-committal sigh and looked away. "I don't know about +that, Rosie. I think it might be an awful good thing for Jarge if Harry +did cut him out." + +"But, Danny," Rosie cried, "think how it would hurt Jarge!" + +Danny's answer was unfeeling. "There's worse things can happen to a man +than being hurt." + +Rosie's manner stiffened perceptibly. "Very well, Mr. Agin, if that's +how you feel about it, I guess I better be going." + +"Ah, don't go yet," Danny begged. + +Rosie, already started, turned back long enough to say, with frigid +politeness: "Good-bye, Mr. Agin." + +At the gate, her heart misgave her. Danny, after all, had spoken +according to his lights. It was not his fault so much as his limitation +that he should judge George Riley by the standard of other young men. +Rosie would be magnanimous. + +"I got to go anyhow, Danny," she called back sweetly. + +Danny's chuckle reached her faintly. "But you're coming again, Rosie +dear, aren't you? You know I'll be wanting to hear about Saturday." + +Danny was old and half sick, so Rosie felt she must be patient. "All +right," she sang out; "I'll come." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +THE WATCH-DOG + + +That night at supper, Ellen remarked casually: "Harry's coming to town +on Saturday, and if he comes up here, I want you all to treat him nice." + +Mrs. O'Brien glanced at Rosie a little nervously. "But, Ellen dear," she +asked, "why does he want to be coming up here?" + +Ellen smiled on her mother patronisingly. "It looks like he wants to +call on me." + +Mrs. O'Brien lifted hands in vague protest. "But tell me, now, do you +think Jarge----" She hadn't courage to finish her sentence. + +Terence looked over to Rosie with a sudden chuckle. "Say, Rosie, +wouldn't it be fun if Jarge happened in? Let's drop him a line. Gee! +Maybe he wouldn't do a thing to that St. Louis guy!" + +"Ma!" Ellen admonished, sharply. + +"Terry lad," Mrs. O'Brien began, obediently, "I'm surprised at you +talkin' this way about the young gentleman that's coming to see your +poor sister Ellen on Saturday night." + +Terence pushed away his plate and began writing an imaginary postcard +with a spoon. "Dear Jarge," he read slowly; "Won't you please come in +on Saturday night? We're arranging a little surprise for Ellen. Yours +truly, Terence O'Brien. Gee!" Terry murmured thoughtfully, "I wish he +would come! It sure would be worth seeing!" + +"Now, Terry," Mrs. O'Brien begged, "promise me you'll do nuthin' so +foolish as that! You know yourself the awful temper Jarge has on him, +an' if he was to come I'm afeared there'd be something serious. Don't +you think, Ellen dear," she went on a little timidly, "that perhaps +you'd better tell Mr. Harry not to come this week?" + +Ellen looked at her mother defiantly. "I don't see why. This week's as +good as any other for me." + +"Well, then, don't you think that perhaps he'd better make you a little +call down at the shop? With so many children and things the house is a +wee bit untidy." + +"It's his own idea to come up here." Ellen paused, a trifle embarrassed. +"He says he wants to meet the family." + +"H'm!" murmured Terry. "He's not like your old friend, Mr. Hawes, is he, +Ellen?" + +Ellen flushed. "No, Terry, he's not a bit like Mr. Hawes." + +Small Jack piped up unexpectedly. "Is he like Jarge, Ellen?" + +"No, he's not like George, either." + +"Can he fight?" + +Ellen tossed her head. "I should hope not! Harry Long is a gentleman!" +Seeing that this was not a very strong recommendation to her brothers, +she added: "But, unless I'm very much mistaken, he's plenty able to take +care of himself. He's a fine swimmer, too." + +"Is he a sport, Ellen?" Terry asked. + +"He's certainly an elegant dresser, if that's what you mean. Just you +wait and see." + +Friday's letter put Ellen into something of a flurry. + +"Ma, Harry thinks it would be awful nice if you would invite him to +supper tomorrow night. He's coming to the shop in the morning. Then +he'll take me out to lunch and we'll go somewheres in the afternoon, and +he wants to know if we can't come back here for supper. He thinks that +would be a good way for him to meet the whole family." + +"Mercy on us!" Mrs. O'Brien wailed. "With all I've got to do, how can I +get up a fine supper for a sporty young gent like Mr. Harry? Can't you +keep him out, Ellen? I don't see why he's got to meet the family. We're +just like any other family: a father, a mother, and five children." + +"But, Ma, he makes such a point of it. I don't see how we can refuse. +Besides, you know he's been pretty nice to me taking me out to dinner +and things." + +"If he was only Jarge Riley now," Mrs. O'Brien mused, "I wouldn't mind +him at all, at all, for he wouldn't be a bit of trouble. Poor Jarge was +always just like one of the family, wasn't he?" + +Ellen drew her mother back to the subject of the moment. "So can I tell +him to come?" + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed. "Oh, I suppose so. That is, if Rosie'll help me. I +tell you frankly, Ellen, I simply can't manage it alone." + +Mrs. O'Brien called Rosie to get the promise of her assistance. Rosie +listened quietly, then, instead of answering her mother, she turned to +her sister. + +"Ellen, I want to know one thing: Have you told this Harry about Jarge +Riley?" + +Ellen frowned. "I don't see what that's got to do with tomorrow's +supper." + +Rosie took a deep breath. "It's got a lot to do with it if I'm going to +help." + +For a moment the sisters measured each other in silence. Then Ellen +broke out petulantly: + +"Well, then, Miss Busybody, if you've got to know, I haven't! And, +what's more, I'm not going to!" + +"You're not going to, eh? We'll see about that." Rosie turned to her +mother. "Ma, I'll help you tomorrow night. We'll have a good supper. But +I want to give you both fair warning: if Ellen don't tell this Harry +about Jarge Riley, I will! She's trying to make a goat of both of them +and I'm not going to stand for it." + +"Ma!" screamed Ellen, "are you going to let her meddle with my affairs +like that? You make her mind her own business!" + +"Rosie dear," begged Mrs. O'Brien, "don't go excitin' your poor sister +Ellen by any such foolish threats. You'd only be causin' trouble, Rosie, +and I'm sure you don't want to do that. And, Ellen dear, don't raise +your voice. The neighbours will hear you." + +"I don't care!" Ellen shouted. "She's nothing but George's little +watch-dog, and I tell you I'm not going to stand it!" + +"Perhaps, Ellen dear," Mrs. O'Brien ventured timidly, "it might be just +as well if you did tell him about Jarge." + +Ellen burst into tears. "You're all against me, every one of you--that's +what you are! You're so afraid I'll have a good time! Isn't George +coming on Thanksgiving and aren't we to be married in the spring? I +should think that would suit you! But, no, you've got to spoil my fun +now and it's a mean shame--that's what it is!" + +"Ah, now, Ellen dear, don't you cry!" Mrs. O'Brien implored. "I'm sure +Rosie is not going to interfere, are you, Rosie?" + +Rosie regarded her sister's tears unmoved. "I'm going to do exactly what +I say I am, and Ellen knows I am." + +Ellen straightened herself with a shake. "Very well," she said shortly. +"I guess I can be mean, too! You just wait!" + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +MR. HARRY LONG EXPLAINS + + +Rosie was more than true to her promise. She prepared a good supper and, +in addition, made the kitchen neat and presentable, scrubbed Jack until +his skin and hair fairly shone with cleanliness, and, long before supper +time, had Mrs. O'Brien and Geraldine, both in holiday attire, seated in +state on the front porch to receive Ellen and her admirer. + +When Jack, who was perched on the front gate as family lookout, saw them +coming, he rushed back to the kitchen to give Rosie warning and Rosie +had time to slip behind the front door and, through the crack, to +witness the arrival. + +"And, Ellen dear," Mrs. O'Brien exclaimed in greeting, "do you mean to +tell me that this is your friend, Mr. Harry Long! If I do say it, Mr. +Long, I'm mighty pleased to see you! As I've said to Ellen, many's the +time, 'Why don't you bring your friend out to see me? Bring him any +time,' says I, 'for the friends of me children are always welcome in +this house.' And himself says the same thing, Mr. Long." + +The florid well-built young man who gave Rosie the impression of bright +tan shoes, gray spats, a fancy vest, and massive watchfob, waited, +smiling, until Mrs. O'Brien was done and then remarked in friendly, +cordial tones: "Just call me Harry, Mrs. O'Brien. I'm plain Harry to my +friends." + +"Well, I'm sure you're among friends when you're here," Mrs. O'Brien +said with a downcast look of melting coyness. "But I fear you won't +think so if I keep you standing much longer. Won't you sit down, Mr.--I +mean, won't you sit down, Harry? You see, Harry," she continued, "I'm +taking you at your word. And now I must introduce Jackie to you. +Jackie's me second b'y. Now, Jackie dear, shake hands with Mr. Long and +tell him you're glad to see him. The baby's name, Harry, is Geraldine. +Besides her, I've got Terence who's a fine lad--oh, I know you'll be +glad to meet Terry!--and Rosie who's next to Terry and who's helping me +with the supper tonight so's to give me a chance to say 'How do you do' +to you. Ah, if I do say it, I've a fine brood of children and never a +word of bickering among them.... Now, Jackie dear, like a good b'y, will +you run upstairs and tell your da to come down this minute, that we're +waiting for him, and then run into the kitchen and ask sister Rosie if +the supper's ready." + +Rosie slipped hurriedly back to the kitchen and then, through Jack, +summoned the family in. + +When she was presented to the newcomer, she added to her first +impressions the smooth pinkish face of a city-bred man who had never +been exposed to the real violence of sun and wind, a cravat pin and seal +ring that were fellows to the watchfob, and hands that bore themselves +as if a little conscious of a recent visit to the manicure. + +As Rosie gathered in these details, she saw, in contrast, the figure of +George Riley: the roughened weatherbeaten face, the cheap ill-fitting +clothes, the big hands coarsened with work, the heavy feet. Ellen, of +course, and girls like Ellen would be taken in by the new man's flashy +appearance and easy confident manner, but not Rosie. Rosie hated him on +sight! She knew the difference between tinsel and solid worth and she +longed to cry out to him: "You needn't think you can fool me, because +you can't! Any one can dress well who spends all he makes on clothes! +But how much money have you got salted away in the bank? Tell me that, +now!" + +She had to shake hands with him, but when he stooped down to kiss her, +she jerked away and glared at him like an angry little cat. + +"Why, Rosie!" Mrs. O'Brien exclaimed in shocked tones, "is that the way +you treat a family friend like Mr. Harry?" + +"Family friend!" stormed Rosie; "I've never laid eyes on him before and +neither have you!" + +Mrs. O'Brien's embarrassment deepened. "Rosie, I'm ashamed of you! Is +that the way for you to be treatin' a gentleman who's taking supper with +us? I tell you frankly I'm ashamed of you!" + +Jamie O'Brien cleared his throat. "See here, Maggie, Rosie's perfectly +right. There's no call for her to be kissing a stranger. She's too big a +girl for that." + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her husband blankly. "Jamie O'Brien, how you +talk! Do you think it's becoming to call a man a stranger who's sitting +down with you at your own table?" + +Jamie turned to his guest politely. "I'm sure, Mr. Long, I don't know +what all this noise is about. I'm like Rosie here. I've never seen you +before to me knowledge. But that's neither here nor there. You're here +now and you're welcome, and I hope we'll be friends. So let us drop the +argument and sit down." + +It was an awkward beginning, but Jamie refused to be embarrassed and, +after a moment of silence, the others tried hard to follow his example. + +Harry was evidently bent on pleasing. + +"Ever been in St. Louis, Mr. O'Brien?" He spoke with a proprietorial air +as one might of a household pet, pronouncing the name of his city Louie. +"Fine place, St. Louie!" + +"For meself," Jamie answered unexpectedly, "I never much cared for it. +It's a hot hole!" + +Ellen flushed. "Why, Dad!" + +Jamie looked up impatiently. "What's the matter now?" + +"Dad, don't you know that St. Louie is where Harry lives?" + +"I do not!" Jamie answered truthfully. "And, if you ask me, Ellen, I +don't see why I should." + +"Jamie O'Brien!" Mrs. O'Brien gasped, "what's come over you? I haven't +heard you talk so much at table in ten years!" She turned to her guest. +"Would you believe me, Harry, there are weeks on end when I never get a +word out of him! Sometimes I think I'll forget how to talk meself for +lack of some one to exchange a word with! And to think," she concluded, +"that Jamie's been in St. Louie! I give you me word of honour I never +heard that before! Tell me, Jamie, when was it?" + +Jamie ruminated a moment. "It must have been before we were married." + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head. "That just proves what I always say: +little a woman can know about a man before she marries him." + +She talked on and Harry gave her every encouragement, laughing heartily +at her anecdotes, asking further details, and making himself so +generally pleasant that, before supper was half done, the opening +embarrassment was forgotten and Mrs. O'Brien was exclaiming: "Well, +Harry, I must say one thing: I feel like I'd known you forever!" + +Harry glanced at Ellen. "Shall we tell them?" + +Ellen drew a quick breath. "We've got to sometime," she murmured. + +Harry beamed on Mrs. O'Brien. "I'm mighty glad to hear you say that, +Mrs. O'Brien. There's nothing would please me better than to have you +like me. In fact, I'm hoping you like me well enough to take me for a +son-in-law!" + +Mrs. O'Brien gasped: "What's this you're saying, Harry?" + +Rosie, pale and tense, stood up. "Ellen," she said, looking straight at +her sister, "have you told him about Jarge Riley?" + +Ellen laughed a little unsteadily. "Yes, Rosie, I told him. And I see +now you were right. It wasn't fair to Harry not to tell him. And I want +to apologize for getting so mad." + +"Yes, Rosie was right," Harry repeated, smiling at her kindly. "Rosie +must have known I was dead gone on Ellen and meant business." + +Rosie was not to be taken in by any such palaver as that. "No, Mr. Long, +you're mistaken. I was only thinking about Jarge Riley. Ellen's going to +marry him in the spring." + +Harry still smiled at her ingratiatingly. "She's not going to marry him +now, Rosie. She can't because, don't you see, she married me this +afternoon!" + +"What!" Rosie, feeling suddenly sick and weak, crumpled down into her +chair, a nerveless little mass that gaped and blinked and waited for the +world to come to an end. + +There was a pause broken at last by an hysterical laugh from Ellen. +"Don't look at me like that, Rosie! I should think you'd be glad I was +married to some one else!" + +Ellen's words brought Rosie to her senses. "I am glad!" she cried. "You +never cared two straws about Jarge, anyhow! But why did you have to be +so crooked with him? When he finds out the way you've done this, it'll +just break his heart! I guess I know!" + +Jamie O'Brien cleared his throat. "Rosie, you talk too much! Will you +just hold your tongue a minute while I find out what all this clatter's +about. Mr. Long, sir, will you be so good as to explain things?" + +There was no smile on Jamie's face and Harry, looking at him, seemed to +realize that it was not a time for pleasantries. + +"I hope, Mr. O'Brien," he began soberly, "that you'll forgive me for not +taking things more slowly. I expected to until this morning when Ellen +told me about this Riley fellow. Then I sort of lost my head. I was +afraid of delays and misunderstandings. I've been just crazy about +Ellen. The first time I saw her I knew she was the girl for me and I +came to town today to tell her so. I suppose she knew what I was going +to say and down at the shop, the very first thing, she began telling me +about Riley. Mighty straight of her, I call it. She had got herself +engaged to him but she didn't want to marry him, and it just seemed to +me that the easiest way out of things was for us to get married right +quick. So we hustled over the river and got to the courthouse just +before closing time. It was really my fault, Mr. O'Brien. I made Ellen +do it." + +Jamie looked at Ellen thoughtfully. "I don't believe you'd have made her +do it if she hadn't wanted to do it." + +"You're right, Dad," Ellen said; "I did want to. I didn't know how +little I cared about George or any one else until Harry came along. +George is good and kind and all that, but we'd never have made a team. I +knew it perfectly well and I was wrong not to tell him so." + +Jamie nodded his head. "You're right, Ellen. You've treated him pretty +badly." + +Her father's apparent blame of Ellen brought Mrs. O'Brien back to life +and to speech. "Jamie O'Brien, I don't see how you can talk so about +poor Ellen! You know yourself many's the time I've said to you, 'I can't +see Ellen milkin' a cow.' For me own part I think she's wise to choose +the life she has." + +"Do you know the life she's chosen?" Jamie asked quietly. "I'm frank to +say I don't." He turned to Harry. "Since you're me son-in-law, Mr. Long, +perhaps you'll be willing to tell me who you are." + +"Oh, Dad!" Ellen murmured, and Mrs. O'Brien whispered, "Why, Jamie!" + +Harry flushed but answered promptly: "I'm twenty-six years old. I'm a +St. Louie man. I'm a travelling salesman for the Great Ostrich Feather +Company, head office at St. Louie. I'm on a twenty dollar a week salary +with commissions that usually run me up to thirty dollars." + +Harry paused and Jamie remarked: "Plenty for a single man. You might +even have saved a bit on it, I'm thinking." + +Harry hesitated. "No," he said slowly; "I'll tell you the truth. I've +been kind of a fool about money. I haven't saved a cent." + +Rosie sat up suddenly. "I knew it!" she cried. + +"Rosie!" whispered Mrs. O'Brien. "Shame on you!" + +"Well, I just did!" Rosie insisted. + +Her father, paying no heed to her, went on with his catechism: "But even +if you didn't save anything, I'm thinking with that salary you're not in +debt." + +"Dad!" murmured Ellen in an agony of embarrassment. + +"Be quiet, Ellen, and let your husband talk." + +The flush on Harry's face deepened. "I'm sorry to say I have a few +debts--not many. I've been paying them off since I've known Ellen." + +"There!" cried Mrs. O'Brien in triumph. "Do you hear that, Jamie!" + +"Since you've known Ellen," Jamie repeated. "How long may that be?" + +"I think it's nearly a month." + +"H'm! Nearly a month.... Well, now, Mr. Long, since you've got a wife +and a few debts, is it your idea, if I might ask you, to start +housekeeping?" + +"Dad!" Ellen cried; "I don't see why you put it that way! We've got +everything planned out." + +Jamie was imperturbable. "I'd like to hear your plans, Ellen." + +"We're not going housekeeping. I hate housekeeping, anyway. We're going +boarding." + +"Boarding, do you say?" Jamie ruminated a moment. "If you were to ask +me, Mr. Long, I'd tell you that twenty dollars won't go far in +supporting a wife in idleness." + +"Ellen don't want to be idle, Mr. O'Brien. It's her own idea to keep on +with millinery, and of course I can get her into a good shop in St. +Louie." + +It was Mrs. O'Brien's turn to feel dismay. "Do you mean to tell me, +Ellen, that, as a married woman, you're keeping on working?" + +Ellen's answer was decided. "I'd rather do millinery than housekeeping. +Millinery ain't half as hard for me. I told Harry so this afternoon and +he said all right." + +"But, Ellen dear," wailed Mrs. O'Brien, "people'll be thinking that your +husband can't support you!" + +Ellen laughed. "As long as I know different, that won't matter." + +Jamie gave Ellen unexpected support. "Maggie, I think Ellen's right. +It'll be much better to be a good milliner than a poor housekeeper." +Jamie paused and looked at the young people thoughtfully. "Well, you're +married now, both of you, and perhaps you're well matched. I dunno. +Ellen's been a headstrong girl, never thinking of any one but herself +and, from your own account, Harry, you're much the same. You've both +jumped into this thing without thinking, but you'll have plenty of time +for thinking from now on. Well, it's high time you both had a bit of +discipline. It'll make a man and a woman of you. I don't altogether like +the way you've started out, but you're started now and there's no more +to say. So here's my hand on it, Harry, and may neither of you regret +this day!" + +Jamie reached across the table and the younger man, in grateful +humility, grasped his hand. "Thank you, Mr. O'Brien," he said simply. +"You've made me see a few things." + +Ellen got up and went around to her father's chair. "I have been +thoughtless and selfish, Dad. I see that now. I hope you'll forgive me." +There were tears in her eyes, and her lips, as she put them against her +father's cheek, trembled a little. + +Harry turned himself to the task of winning his mother-in-law. "Is it +all right, Mrs. O'Brien?" + +All right, indeed! Who could resist so handsome a son-in-law? Certainly +not Mrs. O'Brien. She broke out in tears and laughter. + +[Illustration: They all looked at Rosie, who sat, oblivious of them, +staring off into nothing.] + +"Ah, Harry, you rogue, come here and kiss me this minute!... Why," she +continued, "do you know, Harry, I had a presintimint the moment you +entered the gate! 'What a fine-looking couple!' says I to meself. And +the next minute I says, 'I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they made a +match of it!' Why, Harry, I've never seen a fella come and turn us all +topsy-turvy as you've done! Here I am talkin' me head off and Jamie +O'Brien's been doing the same! Do you mind, Ellen, the way your da's +been talkin'? You're not sick, are you, Jamie?" + +Jamie chuckled quietly. "It's just I'm a little excited having a +daughter run off and get married." + +"Oh, Dad!" Ellen begged. + +"I suppose," Jamie went on, "Rosie'll be at it next." + +They all looked at Rosie, who sat, oblivious of them, staring off into +nothing. + +"What's the matter, Rosie?" her father asked. + +Rosie roused herself. "I was just thinking about Jarge. Who's going to +tell him?" + +"Ellen, of course," Jamie said. "Ellen'll have to write him." + +"But will she do it?" Rosie persisted. + +A look of annoyance crossed Ellen's face. "Of course I will. I'll have +plenty of time because I'm not going to St. Louie for a week. I'll write +him tomorrow." + +Rosie looked at her sister curiously. She wanted to say: "You know +perfectly well you won't write him tomorrow or the next day or the day +after. You'll put it off from day to day and at last you'll go, and +then you'll never think of it again and poor Jarge'll come down here on +Thanksgiving expecting to find you, and then we'll have to tell him." + +This is what Rosie wanted to say. But she restrained herself. When she +spoke, it was in a different tone. "All right, Ellen, I won't bother you +again. What dad says is true: you and Harry are married and that's all +there is about it. I hope you'll both be happy." Rosie hesitated a +moment, then walked over to Harry's chair. "And, Harry, I'm sorry I was +rude to you when you tried to kiss me. You see, I didn't know you were +Ellen's husband." + +Rosie hadn't intended to be funny, but evidently she was, for a shout of +laughter went up and Harry gathered her in with a hug and a kiss. + +"You're all right, Rosie!" he whispered. "I like you for the way you +stand up for George!" + +_For the way she stood up for George!_... Tears filled Rosie's eyes. She +had tried faithfully to guard George's interests like the little +watch-dog Ellen had called her. But George would never know. How could +he? All he would know now was that he had been betrayed. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +THE GREATEST TEACHER IN THE WORLD + + +Rosie kept her promise faithfully. During the week that elapsed before +Ellen's departure, she was careful not to mention George Riley's name. +The time for discussion of any subject that might prove unpleasant to +Ellen was past. Ellen was going, never to return--at any rate, never as +one of them in the sense that she had been one of them and, for their +own sakes as well as for hers, it behooved them all to make those last +days as frictionless as possible. The approaching separation did not +bring Rosie any closer to Ellen nor Ellen any closer to her, but it made +them both strangely considerate of one another and also a little shy. + +Like Rosie, Terence and Jack regarded Ellen's going with deep interest +but with very little feeling. Between them and her there had always been +war and there probably always would be if they continued to live under +the same roof. They had their mother's word for it that Ellen was their +own sister and that they ought to love her, but they did not for that +reason love her nor did she love them. Yet they did not question that +pretty fallacy which their mother offered them as an axiom, namely, +that love is the inevitable bond between brothers and sisters, since +boys and girls, like men and women, have a way of keeping separate the +truths of experience and the forms of inherited belief. With Rosie they +instinctively called a truce. Ellen will soon be gone, their attitude +said, so let's not fight any more. To show their sincerity, Terry +polished Ellen's shoes and asked if there was anything more he could do, +and Jack ran numberless errands without once asking payment. + +Mrs. O'Brien more than made up for the indifference of the rest of the +family. Her grief at Ellen's departure was very genuine and very loud. +Ellen had always seemed to her mother a paragon of beauty and talent and +now she had made a fine match and was going off to St. Louie, poor girl, +where she'd be far away from her own people in case of illness or +distress. Mrs. O'Brien was so nearly overcome at the actual moment of +farewell that Jamie and Terry had to drag her off to a soda fountain +before the train was fairly started. + +Ellen, too, was affected at the last as Rosie had never seen her +affected. She kissed Rosie, then looked at her a moment sadly. "Say, +kid," she said, "I'm sorry we haven't been better friends. I'm afraid it +was my fault." + +Rosie gulped. "I was as much to blame as you. I see it now." + +Ellen touched Rosie's cheek impulsively. "If ever I get a home of my +own in St. Louie, will you come and make me a visit?" + +Rosie's thought was: "If ever you get a home of your own, you'll never +remember me." Her spoken answer, though, was all that it should be: +"Ellen, I'd love to." + +Rosie, you see, knew Ellen's character pretty well. What she did not +know and could not as yet know was this: that the Ellen of tomorrow +might not be quite the Ellen of today; that life probably held +experiences for Ellen that would at last make her look back on home and +family with a new understanding and a feeling of genuine tenderness. + +Ellen's train pulled out and Rosie watched it go with a sigh of relief. +The chapter of Family Chronicles entitled Ellen was finished. That is, +it was finished so far as any new interest was concerned. Yet, like the +hand of a dead man touching the living through the clauses of a last +will, so Ellen, though gone, continued to touch Rosie on a spot already +sensitive beyond endurance. + +Rosie had not spoken of George Riley during Ellen's last week. She had +tried to suppress even the thought of him. Now the time was come when +she had again to think of him, and she was so tired and weary of the +whole problem that she felt unequal to the task of working out its +solution. + +"Do you know, Danny," she remarked that afternoon to her old friend, +"I'd give anything to go off somewheres where I don't know anybody and +where nobody knows me. I'm just so tired of this old town that I don't +know what to do." + +Danny nodded sympathetically. "I'm thinking you're in need of a little +change, Rosie. Maybe you could go out to the country for a day or two at +Thanksgiving." + +Rosie knew perfectly well what Danny meant but, for conversational +reasons, she asked: "Where in the country, Danny?" + +"Well, I was thinking of the Riley farm. I'm sure Mrs. Riley would be +crazy to have you." + +Rosie shook her head. "I can't go out there because Jarge is coming +here." She paused a moment. "He's coming to see Ellen. You know, Danny, +he thinks he's engaged to Ellen." + +"What!" Danny's little eyes blinked rapidly. "Don't he know yet that +she's married to the other fella?" + +"How can he know when no one's told him? Ellen said she would, but of +course she didn't." + +Danny's expression grew serious. "Rosie dear, he ought to be told! He +ought t' have been told at once! You don't mean to say, Rosie, you'll +let him come down on Thanksgiving without a word of warning?" + +Rosie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't see that it's any of my +business." + +Danny looked at her sharply. "Why, Rosie dear, what's come over you?" + +Rosie sighed. "I don't know, Danny. I'm just kind o' tired of things." +She made a sudden change of subject. "Wisht I didn't have to go to +school! I hate school this year. I don't see why I have to go, anyway. +I'm not going to be a teacher." + +There was no mistaking Rosie's dejection and Danny, instead of scoffing +it away, accepted it quietly. + +"I'm sorry to hear you say that about school, Rosie. I was thinkin' +you'd be in High School next year." + +"I would be, if I passed. Ellen went through High School, and now +Terry's in the first year, and of course dad wants me to go, too. But I +don't see why I should. You know, Danny, I'm not very bright in school. +I'm not a bit like Janet. I've got to work awful hard just barely to +pass. I don't think I'd have passed last year if Janet hadn't helped me. +But I can cook and do a lot of things that Janet can't do. I know +perfectly well I could never be a teacher, so I don't see the use of +keeping on at school." + +"You surprise me, Rosie!" Danny peered at her earnestly. "Do you think +that's the only reason for going to school--so's to be a teacher?" + +Rosie nodded. "I don't see any other." + +"And what do you want to be, Rosie?" + +"I don't want to be anything." + +"Don't you want to do something?" + +"No." + +"But, Rosie dear, that's no way to talk. You know you can't sit through +life with folded hands, doing nothing." + +Rosie protested: "But, Danny, I don't expect to do nothing. I know I +have to work and I do work, too. You ask ma. I take care of Geraldine +night and day, and you needn't think it isn't a big job taking care of a +baby, because it is. And I used to take care of Jarge Riley, too. Old +Mis' Riley herself told me I took as good care of him as she did. And +she meant it, too. Oh, I could just work forever for Geraldine and +Jarge." + +Danny looked at her a few moments in silence. "Rosie dear," he said +gently, "pull your chair over close. I want to talk to you." + +Rosie obeyed and, after a slight pause, Danny continued: "You're +troubled about Jarge, aren't you, Rosie?" + +Rosie's eyes filled with tears. "I suppose I am, Danny." + +"Rosie," Danny asked slowly, "are you in love with Jarge?" + +The question startled Rosie. She stared blankly through her tears. "Why, +Danny, how can you say a thing like that? I'm only a little girl and +Jarge is a grown man!" + +"But you'd like to take care of him all the time, wouldn't you, Rosie?" + +Rosie nodded. "You bet I would! If I could have just Jarge and +Geraldine, I wouldn't care how hard I'd have to work! I'd do anything +for both of them. Don't you know, Danny, I just feel like they're +_mine_!" + +"I thought so, Rosie." Danny sighed and cleared his throat. "Now listen +carefully, Rosie, what I've got to say. As you say yourself you're only +a little girl now, but in a few years you'll be a big girl, as big as +Ellen is today. And then perhaps, Rosie, you'll be marrying some one." + +"No, Danny, no!" Rosie cried. "I don't want to be marrying some one, +honest I don't!" + +Danny waved aside the interruption. "As I was saying, perhaps you'll be +marrying some one, and then after while you'll be having babies of your +own." + +"Oh, Danny!" A look of wonder, almost of ecstasy, spread over Rosie's +face. Instinctively her arms reached out for the precious burden of the +future. "Do you really mean it, Danny?" she whispered. "My _own_!" + +"Yes, Rosie, I mean it. And you'll be a wonderful mother, for you'll +know how to feed your children properly and take proper care of them. +But in one way, Rosie, I fear you'll be a pretty poor mother." + +The light in Rosie's eyes went out. "Why do you say that, Danny?" + +"You won't be able to help them in their schoolin' and they'll probably +all turn out poor ignur'nt b'ys and girls, with no opportunity to rise +in the world. And if they do get on in school, they'll soon be scornin' +their poor mother and lookin' down on her because she hasn't had the +education she might have had. And when their father sees how they feel, +I'm afeared he'll begin feelin' the same and thinkin' he'd made an awful +mistake marryin' such an ignur'nt woman." + +"Oh, Danny, stop! Stop!" Tears of self-pity already filled Rosie's eyes. + +"So I say to you, Rosie, if I was a little girl, I'd want to keep on +going to school even if I didn't expect to be a teacher. And for that +matter, darlint, isn't a mother the greatest teacher in the world? +Aren't you yourself Geraldine's teacher every day of your life?" + +Rosie's eyes stretched wide in surprise. "Danny, I believe you're right! +A mother is a teacher, isn't she?" + +"Sure she is, Rosie. And the better her own education is, the better +chance she has of being a good teacher. That stands to reason, don't it +now?" + +Rosie nodded slowly. "Do you know, Danny, I never thought of that +before." She ruminated a moment. "Really and truly it just seems like +every girl in the world ought to have a good education. I always did +think that ignorant mothers were awful and they are, too." + +"You're right, Rosie, they are. They're a hindrance to their children +instead of a help." + +Rosie took a deep breath. "Wouldn't it just be wonderful to have a baby +really and truly your own?" She gazed off into space. Then her +expression changed. "But, Danny, I'll never marry." + +"Is that so?" Danny started to laugh, then checked himself. + +"You see, Danny, it's this way: Maybe you're right. Maybe I am in love +with Jarge. Anyway, I know I'll never love anybody else half as much as +I love him." + +"If that's the case," Danny remarked casually, "the only thing for you +to do is to marry Jarge." + +"Danny!" Rosie looked at him reproachfully. "I don't think it's kind of +you to make fun of me that way. I know I'm only a kid." + +"I didn't mean to marry him this minute," Danny explained. "I expected +you to take your time about it--after you had finished school and were +grown up and all that." + +"Oh!" Rosie sat up very straight. She spoke a little breathlessly. "But, +Danny, won't Jarge be too old then?" + +Danny drew a long face. "I had forgotten all about that, Rosie. To be +sure he will. He must be ten or fifteen years older than you this +minute." + +"No, Danny, no! He's not! He's only six years older--about six and a +half. I'm thirteen now. I had a birthday last month. And he's nineteen +and a half. I know because he's four months older than Ellen." + +"Six years, do you say?" Danny mumbled. "Well, now, that's a good many, +Rosie. Let's see: when you're eighteen, he'll be twenty-four. H'm. At +twenty-four a lad's getting on, ain't he? Of course a lot of them don't +marry nowadays till thirty but, if they'd ask me advice, I'd tell them +to settle down with the right girl by the time they're twenty-five.... +Yes, Rosie, you're right: Jarge'd be pretty old. Six years is a pretty +big difference." + +Rosie tossed her head. "I'm not so sure about that! Let's see now: Harry +Long is twenty-six and that makes him seven years older than Ellen, and +I'm sure Harry and Ellen look fine together! No one would ever think of +calling Harry old! Why, he don't look a bit old!" + +Danny shrugged his shoulders. "Well, Rosie, have it your own way!" + +"Danny Agin, how you talk! Have it my own way, indeed! It isn't my way, +it's just facts!" + +Danny looked bored. "Well, anyway, it's all in the future, so why are we +arguin' now? You'll be falling in love and probably falling out again +with half a dozen lads before you're eighteen, and by the time you're +twenty you'll probably be happily married to some one you've never yet +laid eyes on. That's how it goes. And in that case, you'll have long +since forgotten all about poor old Jarge Riley." + +"Is that so?" Rosie spoke rather coldly, not to say sarcastically. +However, she did not dispute Danny's word. If that was his opinion, he +was, of course, welcome to it. By the same token, Rosie claimed a like +privilege for herself. The way she pressed her lips together told very +plainly that her opinion differed somewhat from Danny's. + +Presently Danny opened on another subject. "Now about Jarge Riley: If +you ask me advice, Rosie, I think you had better write him a letter. It +would be a bad thing to have him come down here not knowin' about +Ellen." + +Rosie's face changed. "But, Danny, it would be an awful hard letter to +write and, besides, it isn't my business." + +"That's so," Danny agreed. "Perhaps now you'd better not meddle. When I +suggested it, it was only because I was thinkin' that you and Jarge were +such good friends that you'd be wantin' to spare him a little. But, +after all, he's a man, so he might as well come down and find things out +for himself. It'll be an awful shock, but no matter. Besides, maybe +Ellen'll write him. In fact, I'm sure she will." + +"Ellen!" Rosie snorted scornfully. "Ellen never yet has done anything +she hasn't wanted to do and I don't see her beginning now!" + +"We've all got to begin some time," Danny remarked. + +Rosie pointed her finger impressively. "Danny Agin, I know Ellen O'Brien +Long better than you do and, when I say she'll never write a line to +Jarge, I guess I know what I'm talking about." + +"I'm sure you do," Danny murmured meekly. "If you say she won't, she +won't. I wouldn't question your word for a hundred dollars. If you tell +me that Jarge is not to get a letter, then it's settled. He won't get a +letter." Danny sighed. "Poor Jarge! I do feel sorry for him! It'll be an +awful shock to him!" Danny sighed again. "But, of course, every one has +to take a few shocks in this life. Ah, me!" + +Rosie sighed, too. "If I was to write him, Danny, what would I say?" + +Danny wagged his head. "It'd be a pretty hard letter and, as you say +yourself, why should you?" + +"I know it would be hard," Rosie agreed, "but, if I wanted to write it, +I guess it wouldn't be too hard for me. Only I'm not quite sure what to +say." + +Danny squinted his little eyes thoughtfully. "Well, Rosie, if I was +writing such a letter, to begin with I'd tell me bad news as quickly as +I could and have it over with. Then, if it was some one I was real fond +of, I'd tell him what I thought of him. It don't hurt any one to be told +he has a friend or two. Then I'd fill in with all the family news and +talk I could, so's he wouldn't feel lonely. At first he wouldn't have +eyes for anything but the bad news, but, after while, he'd begin to take +comfort from the rest of the letter and, if it was written with lots of +love and feelin', I'm thinkin' there'd come a time when he'd be readin' +that part over and over and over again, I dunno how many times, and +takin' a little more comfort from it each time." + +Rosie stood up a little breathlessly. "Good-bye, Danny. I must hurry +home. I've got something to do." + +"Don't be runnin' off," Danny begged. "Besides, I'm not done yet with +the letter. As I was sayin', I wouldn't try to finish it in one sitting. +I'd write at it as much as I could every day and in a week's time it'd +be a good big letter." + +"But, Danny, Thanksgiving's not more than three weeks off!" + +"Three weeks, do you say? That's bad. The poor lad ought to be given two +weeks' notice at least. So if any one was to write him, they'd better +begin at once. They'd have to write every day for a week pretty +steadily." + +"Is that all, Danny?" + +"It's all I think of just now. If you was to sit awhile longer, Rosie, +maybe something more would come to me." + +"I don't believe I better, Danny. I'm awful busy. I must get home." + +"But you'll stop awhile tomorrow, darlint, won't you? Promise me you +will." + +Rosie thought a moment. "It's this way, Danny: I'm a little behind in +school and I've got to catch up. And, besides that, I'll be very busy +for a week on something else. I don't believe I'll have time to stop +tomorrow but, if I have, I will. Good-bye." + +Rosie started off, then turned back a little shyly. She put her arm +about old Danny's neck and kissed him on the cheek. "Danny, you're +awful good to me. And do you know, Danny, after Jarge and Geraldine and +Janet I think I love you best of all!" + +Danny chuckled. "Well, I suppose fourth ch'ice is better than no ch'ice +at all!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +THE ROSIE MORROW + + +For a whole week Rosie worked away at her letter. She followed Danny's +advice and added new pages each day. As a result her manuscript grew in +bulk with startling rapidity. She had to buy a big envelope for it and +then spend a large part of a week's wages on postage stamps. + +Here is what she wrote: + +DEAR GEORGE, + +How are you and how is your mother and how is your father? Tell your +mother that Geraldine is growing so fast that she would hardly know her. + +George, I've got some bad news for you. Only it isn't as bad as it +sounds, for I know it will be all right in the end. George, Ellen's got +married. He's a feather salesman. He wears sporty clothes. He's +twenty-six years old. That makes him seven years older than Ellen. He's +a good-looker. Him and Ellen are just the same kind. They both like to +dress and to gad around. + +George, I know you're going to feel awful bad about this at first, but +listen, George, it would have been an awful thing to plant Ellen out on +a farm. She would have hated it. She would have been unhappy and that +would have made you unhappy. And I don't think Ellen and your mother +would have liked each other either and they would have to live together +and then where would you be? George, don't you see, you're a farmer and +you ought to pick out the kind of girl that likes farm life and that +knows how to work. George, Ellen just loves the city where she can go to +the theatre and dances and things and she never would like the country. +Don't you see, George? I don't mean that Ellen was right to get married +without telling you. She ought to have told you. I know that. But, +George, I think she was a little bit scared of you. Really and truly, +George, I don't think she would ever have got engaged to you if that +Hawes man hadn't insulted her. Then afterwards, George, she didn't know +how to get away from you. But she wanted to, honest she did. + +George, I'm awful sorry to be the one to tell you this. But I thought I +better because it wouldn't be fair to have you come down on Thanksgiving +without knowing. And I thought it would be better for you to hear it +from me than from any one else. You and me, George, are awful good +friends and I love you like I love Geraldine and I'd give anything not +to have to tell you something that will hurt you and make you feel bad. +Honest, George, I'm awful sorry. + +George, all your friends always ask for you. The other day Danny Agin +asked about you. Danny's pretty well but he ain't very strong these days +and me and Mrs. Agin are a little bit worried. I don't know what I'd do +without Danny. Sometimes he thinks he's funny and then me and Mrs. Agin +have to scold him, but I just love him and so does Mrs. Agin even when +she pretends she don't. You know, George, you can't help it because +really and truly he's always so kind and gentle. And he gives awful good +advice when you're worried about something. I always stand up for Danny. +I told him once that he is my fourth best friend. I put you first, +George, and then Geraldine, and then Janet. + +And, George, do you know about Janet? Dave McFadden has never once fell +off the water wagon! What do you know about that? Mrs. McFadden got home +from the hospital just after you left. She's real weak and she'll +probably never be able to work again. She just sits around and complains +and what do you think? Dave waits on her like she was a baby and don't +say a word. Miss Harris from the Settlement House explained about it to +Janet and me. She said that time that Dave was laid up with a broken leg +and Mrs. McFadden began working out and Dave saw how easy it was for him +to get along without supporting Mrs. McFadden and Janet that he lost the +sense of family responsibility. And Miss Harris says it just took a +thing like this to wake him up. And Miss Harris says it was Mrs. +McFadden's big mistake to take Dave's place ever because lots of men +are just that way when they see their wives and mothers can earn money +by working out they just let them and Miss Harris says a woman has +enough to do at home and taking care of her children. I'm sure my mother +has, don't you think so, George? + +The McFaddens are real comfortable now because all Dave's money comes +home. They're going to move out of that horrible tenement next week. +They've rented a little four-room house in the next block to us. Janet +ain't very good friends with her father. She hardly ever talks to him +and he hardly ever talks to her. She says how can she when she looks at +her mother. But she says now she'll keep on at school. She thought she'd +have to go to work. You know Janet's just crazy about school. She wants +to go through High School and be a teacher. I want to go through High +School, too, but I don't want to be a teacher. I think a girl ought to +go through High School, don't you, George? because if she ever has any +children of her own she wouldn't want them to grow up and think their +mother was an ignorant old thing. And, besides, if she hasn't got a good +education herself, how can she teach her children? And really and truly, +George, you know a good mother has to be a teacher. Did you ever think +of that before? + +George, I don't suppose I'll ever marry. But if I was to marry, do you +know the kind of man I'd pick out? I'd take a farmer every time! I just +love the country, George, and I just love the kind of work a farmer's +wife has to do. You ask your mother if I don't. There wasn't a thing +that Mrs. Riley did last summer that she didn't teach me, and she told +me herself I was awful quick about learning. + +My, my, George, did you ever think how fast time flies? Here I'm +thirteen now and it won't be hardly any time before I'm eighteen. When +I'm eighteen I'll be grown up and getting ready to graduate from High +School. Will you promise me to come down and see the graduation? I'd +rather have you come than any one else in the world. Let's see how old +you'll be then? You'll be twenty-four. That's not so awful old. Maybe +you won't even be married. Lots of men nowadays don't get married until +they're thirty. But I think you ought to get married by the time you're +twenty-five. And you ought to get a wife that would love your mother and +would be willing to take some of the work off her shoulders. That's why +I say to you that you ought to pick out a girl that loves the country +and isn't afraid of work. And you ought to take a girl that's gone +through High School, too, because it's a mistake for a man to marry an +ignorant woman that he'd be ashamed of. + +George, I can't tell you how much I miss you. I miss you every day. We +always had such good times together, didn't we? Do you remember all the +times you took me to the movies and for street-car rides and things like +that? I remember every one of them. And whenever I was bothered about +anything you were always so kind to me. Other people are kind to me, +too. Danny Agin is. I love Danny Agin, too, but I love you first. + +George, I don't think I could get on without you if I didn't have +Geraldine. Seems like I just got to have some one to love. When I get +real lonely for you, I take Geraldine and give her a good scrubbing and +then dress her up and take her out for a walk. + +George, I don't know when I'll see you again, but listen here, George, I +want you to remember one thing. It won't make any difference how long it +is because I'll love you just the same. + +And, George, I love your mother, too, and she told me that she loved me. +Will you tell her that I hope she's well and that I'll never forget how +kind she was to me and Geraldine last summer. And I hope your father's +well, too. + +Terry says to say Hello to you. And he says, how's farming? Jackie's +getting awful big and he's real smart in school. He always gets a +hundred in problems. + +Ma and dad are well and I told you all about Janet. So that's all now. + + With love, + Yours truly, + ROSIE O'BRIEN. + + + + +"_THE CHEERIEST, HAPPIEST BOOKS_" + +By JULIE M. 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The charm of the young women, all brave and humorous and gay, +and all trailing clouds of glory from the fairyland from which they have +just come." + + +JOSEPH VANCE + +The story of a great sacrifice and a life-long love. + + "The book of the last decade; the best thing in fiction since + Mr. Meredith and Mr. Hardy; must take its place as the first + great English novel that has appeared in the twentieth + century."--LEWIS MELVILLE in _New York Times Saturday Review_. + + +ALICE-FOR-SHORT + +The romance of an unsuccessful man, in which the long buried past +reappears in London of to-day. + + "If any writer of the present era is read a half century hence, + a quarter century, or even a decade, that writer is William De + Morgan."--_Boston Transcript._ + + +SOMEHOW GOOD + +How two brave women won their way to happiness. + + "A book as sound, as sweet, as wholesome, as wise, as any in the + range of fiction."--_The Nation._ + + +IT NEVER CAN HAPPEN AGAIN + +A story of the great love of Blind Jim and his little daughter, and of +the affairs of a successful novelist. + + "De Morgan at his very best, and how much better his best is + than the work of any novelist of the past thirty years."--_The + Independent._ + + +AN AFFAIR OF DISHONOR + +A very dramatic novel of Restoration days. + + "A marvelous example of Mr. De Morgan's inexhaustible fecundity + of invention.... Shines as a romance quite as much as 'Joseph + Vance' does among realistic novels."--_Chicago Record-Herald._ + + +A LIKELY STORY + + "Begins comfortably enough with a little domestic quarrel in a + studio.... The story shifts suddenly, however, to a brilliantly + told tragedy of the Italian Renaissance embodied in a girl's + portrait.... The many readers who like Mr. De Morgan will enjoy + this charming fancy greatly."--_New York Sun._ + + _A Likely Story, $1.35 net; the others, $1.75 each._ + + +WHEN GHOST MEETS GHOST + +The most "De Morganish" of all his stories. The scene is England in the +fifties. _862 pages. $1.60 net._ + + * * * * * + +.*. A thirty-two page illustrated leaflet about Mr. De Morgan, +with complete reviews of his first four books, sent on request. + + + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + PUBLISHERS NEW YORK + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + +Spelling and hyphenation have been retained as they appear in +the original publication. + +Changes have been made as follows: + + Page 175 on one side the gate _changed to_ + on one side of the gate + + Page 190 Good for Jarge! _changed to_ + Good for Jarge!" + + Page 227 had happened Janet _changed to_ + had happened to Janet + + In the advertisements + Louisa Olcott _changed to_ + Louisa Alcott + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rosie World, by Parker Fillmore + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROSIE WORLD *** + +***** This file should be named 31718-8.txt or 31718-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/1/31718/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Rosie World + +Author: Parker Fillmore + +Illustrator: Maginel Wright Enright + +Release Date: March 21, 2010 [EBook #31718] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROSIE WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<hr /> + +<h1>THE ROSIE WORLD</h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<div><a name="front" id="front"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 439px;"> +<img src="images/i-001.jpg" width="439" height="600" alt="frontispiece" title="page 12" /> +<span class="caption">"I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to +fight, it scares me so!" [<a href="#frontis">Page 12</a>.]</span> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<div class="tp"> +<p class="center"><span class="title">THE ROSIE WORLD</span><br /> + +BY<br /> +<span class="author">PARKER FILLMORE</span><br /> + +<span class="books">Author of "The Hickory Limb," "The Young Idea"</span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<span class="books">With Illustrations by</span><br /> +<span class="illus">MAGINEL WRIGHT ENRIGHT</span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 80px;"> +<img src="images/logo.jpg" width="80" height="100" alt="Logo" title="" /> +</div> + +<h3><small>NEW YORK</small><br /> +HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY<br /> +1914</h3> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<div class="block"> +<h5>Copyright, 1914.<br /> +BY<br /> +<big>HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY</big><br /> +<em>Published September, 1914</em></h5> + +<p class="noi">Parts of <em>The Rosie World</em> have appeared serially in <em>Everybody's +Magazine</em> under the titles: "The Chin-Chopper," "A Little Savings +Account," copyright, 1912, by The Ridgway Company; "A Little Mother +Hen," "The Loan of a Gentleman Friend," "Crazy with the Heat," +copyright, 1913, by The Ridgway Company; "The Stenog," "The Watch-Dog," +"The Rosie Morrow," copyright, 1914, by The Ridgway Company; and in +<em>Smith's Magazine</em> under the title: "What Every Lady Wants," copyright, +1913, by Street & Smith.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h2>To<br /> +<big>Gilman Hall</big></h2> + + + + +<hr /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="Contents"> +<tr> +<th class="thr1">CHAPTER</th> +<th class="thr2" colspan="2">PAGE</th> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">I</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Chin-Chopper</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#I">1</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">II</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Schnitzer</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#II">7</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">III</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Paper-Girl</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#III">18</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Little Savings Account</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#IV">25</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">V</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">George Riley on Muckers</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#V">40</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Jackie</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VI"> 47</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">How to Keep a Duck out of Water</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VII">59</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Little Mother Hen</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#VIII">67</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Janet's Aunt Kitty</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#IX">78</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">X</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Rosie Receives an Invitation</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#X">87</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Traction Boys' Picnic</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XI">93</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Loan of a Gentleman Friend</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XII">99</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Janet Explains</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIII">107</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">On Scars and Bruises</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIV">113</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Brute at Bay</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XV">123</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XVI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">What Every Lady Wants</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVI">130</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XVII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Rosie Promises to Be Good</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVII">143</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XVIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">On the Culture of Babies</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XVIII">147</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Crazy with the Heat</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XIX">157</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Fevered World</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XX">165</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Storm</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXI">168</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Chance for Geraldine</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXII">171</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Home Again</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIII">175</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXIV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">George Turns</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIV">182</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Danny Agin on Love</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXV">194</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXVI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Ellen</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXVI">204</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXVII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Rosie Urges Common Sense</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXVII">213</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXVIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Janet Uses Strong Language</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXVIII">224</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXIX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Case of Dave McFadden</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXIX">234</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Janet to Her Own Father</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXX">242</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXXI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Danny's Suggestion</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXI">254</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXXII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Substitute Lady</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXII">264</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXXIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Ellen's Career</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXIII">273</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXXIV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Kind-Hearted Gentleman</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXIV">285</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXXV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Ellen Makes an Announcement</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXV">292</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXXVI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Happy Lover</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXVI">298</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXXVII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Sisters</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXVII">304</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXXVIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Ellen Has Her Fling</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXVIII">308</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXXIX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Watch-Dog</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XXXIX">317</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XL</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Mr. Harry Long Explains</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XL">322</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XLI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Greatest Teacher in the World</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XLI">335</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XLII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Rosie Morrow</span></td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#XLII">349</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<table summary="Illustrations"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl">"I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to fight, +it scares me so!"</td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#front"><em>Frontispiece</em></a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<th class="thr2" colspan="2">PAGE</th> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl">"Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie"</td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#here">48</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Rosie gently lifted off his nightshirt and held the candle +close</td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#gently">60</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl">"Because you kiss Janet McFadden, you needn't think +you can kiss any girl"</td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#because">106</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl">Rosie stared at him out of eyes that were very sad and +very serious</td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#stared">148</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl">She read it again by the light of the candle</td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#she">290</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl">To be the confidant of Mrs. O'Brien in this particular +disappointment was embarrassing, to say the least</td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#to">298</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdl">They all looked at Rosie, who sat, oblivious of them, +staring off into nothing</td> +<td class="tdr2"><a href="#they">332</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span> +THE ROSIE WORLD</h2> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER I</span><br /> +<br /> +THE CHIN-CHOPPER</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Mrs. O'Brien</span> raised helpless distracted hands. "Off wid yez to school!" +she shouted. "All of yez! Make room for George!" What Mrs. O'Brien +really called her boarder is best represented by spelling his name +Jarge.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I didn't have a dandy fight on my last trip down," George +announced as he took off his coat and began washing his hands at the +sink.</p> + +<p>The young O'Briens clustered about him eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Did you lick him, Jarge?" Terry asked.</p> + +<p>"Tell us about it!" Rosie begged.</p> + +<p>"Will yez be off to school!" Mrs. O'Brien again shouted.</p> + +<p>No one heeded her in the least. George by this time was seated at the +table and Rosie was hanging over his shoulder. Terence and small Jack +stood facing him at the other side of the table and Miss Ellen O'Brien, +with the baby in her arms, lingered near the door.</p> + +<p>"Your cabbage'll be stone cold," Mrs. O'Brien<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> scolded, "and they'll all +be late for school if they don't be off wid 'em!"</p> + +<p>"Was he drunk, Jarge?" Rosie asked.</p> + +<p>"No, but he'd been taking too much." George spoke through a mouthful of +corned beef and cabbage.</p> + +<p>"Aw, go on," Terry pleaded, "tell us all about it."</p> + +<p>"They ain't much to tell," George declared, with a complacency that +belied his words. "He was nuthin' but a big stiff about nine feet high +and built double across the shoulders." George sighed and cocked his eye +as though bored at the necessity of recounting his adventure. Then, just +to humour them, as it were, he continued: "I see trouble as soon as he +got on. They was plenty of empty seats on one side, but the first thing +I knew he was hanging on a strap on the crowded side insultin' a poor +little lady. He wasn't sayin' nuthin' but he was just hangin' over her +face, lookin' at her and grinnin' until she was ready to cry out for +shame."</p> + +<p>"The brute!" snapped Mrs. O'Brien as she slopped down a big cup of +coffee.</p> + +<p>"Did you throw him off?" Terence asked.</p> + +<p>George took an exasperating time to swallow, then complained: "You +mustn't hurry me so. 'Tain't healthy to hurry when you eat."</p> + +<p>Ellen O'Brien tossed her head disdainfully. "If that's all you've got to +say, Mr. Riley, I guess I'll be going."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>Rosie +turned on her big sister scornfully. "Aw, why don't you call him +Jarge? Ain't he been boarding with us a whole week now?" To show the +degree of intimacy she herself felt, Rosie slipped an arm about George's +neck.</p> + +<p>Ellen sniffed audibly.</p> + +<p>George had not been looking at the elder Miss O'Brien but, from the +haste with which now he finished his story, it was evident that he +wished her to hear it.</p> + +<p>"When I see he was looking for trouble, I went right up to him and says: +'If you can't sit down and act ladylike, just get off this car.' And +then he looks down at me and grins like a jackass and says: 'Who do you +think you are?' 'Who do I think I am?' I says; 'I'm the conductor of +this car and my number's eight-twenty and, if I get any more jawin' from +you, I'll throw you off.' He'd make two of me in size but I could see +from the look of him he was nuthin' to be afraid of. So, when he grins +down at the little lady again and then drops his strap to turn clean +around to me and poke out his jaw, I up and gives him a good +chin-chopper."</p> + +<p>George stopped as if this were the end and his auditors grumbled in +balked expectancy:</p> + +<p>"Aw, go on, Jarge, tell us what you did."</p> + +<p>"Well, if that's the end of your story, Mr. Riley, I'm going."</p> + +<p>"The brute, insultin' a lady!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>It +was Rosie who demanded in desperation: "But, Jarge, what is a +chin-chopper?"</p> + +<p>"Chin-chopper? Why, don't you know what a chin-chopper is?" George +paused in his eating to explain. "A chin-chopper is when a big stiff +pokes out his jaw at you and then, before he knows what you're doing, +you up and push him one under the chin with the inside of your hand. It +tips him over just like a ninepin."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jarge, do you mean you knocked him down on the floor of the car?" +By this time Rosie was skipping and hopping in excitement.</p> + +<p>"Sure that's what I mean."</p> + +<p>"And then, Jarge, when you had him down, what did you do?"</p> + +<p>"What did I do? Why, then I danced on him, of course."</p> + +<p>George jumped up from his chair and, indicating a prostrate form on the +kitchen floor, proceeded to execute a series of wild jig steps over +limbs and chest.</p> + +<p>Rosie clapped her hands. "Good, good, good, Jarge! And then what did you +do?"</p> + +<p>"What did I do? Why, then I snatches off the stiff's hat and throws it +out the window. As luck went, it landed in a fine big mud-puddle. Then I +pulls the bell and says to him, 'Now, you big bully, if you've had +enough, get off this car and go home and tell your wife she wants you.'"</p> + +<p>"And, Jarge, did he get off?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>"Did + he? I wonder! He couldn't get off quick enough!"</p> + +<p>George glanced timidly toward Ellen in hopes, apparently, that his +prowess would meet the same favour from her as from the others.</p> + +<p>Ellen caught his look and instantly tightened her lips in disgust. "I +think it's perfectly disgraceful to get in fights!"</p> + +<p>Under the scorn of her words George withered into silence. Terence +rallied instantly to his defence. He turned on his older sister angrily. +"Aw, go dry up, you old school-teacher!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not an old school-teacher!" Ellen cried. "And you just stop calling +me names! Ma, Terence is calling me an old school-teacher and you don't +say a thing!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked at her son reprovingly. "Why, Terry lad, I'm +surprised at you callin' your poor sister Ellen a thing like that! You +know as well as I that she's not an old school-teacher."</p> + +<p>"Well, anyway," Terence growled, "she talks like one."</p> + +<p>Rosie's wild spirits, meantime, had vanished. She sighed heavily. "Say, +Jarge, wisht I was a boy."</p> + +<p>George looked at her kindly. "What makes you say that, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nuthin'. Only I know some stiffs I'd like to try a chin-chopper +on."</p> + +<p>George eyed her a little uneasily. "Aw, now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> Rosie, you oughtn't to +talk that way. You're a girl and 'tain't ladylike for girls to fight."</p> + +<p>"I know, Jarge. That's why I say I wisht I was a boy."</p> + +<p>George grew thoughtful. "Of course, though, Rosie, I wouldn't have +blamed the little lady in the car if she had poked her hatpin into that +fellow. It's all right for a lady to do anything in self-defence."</p> + +<p>In Rosie's face a sudden interest gathered. "Ain't it unladylike, Jarge, +if it's in self-defence?"</p> + +<p>George answered emphatically: "Of course not—not if it's in +self-defence."</p> + +<p>He would have said more but Terence interrupted: "What's the matter, +Rosie? Any one been teasing you?"</p> + +<p>Rosie answered quickly, almost too quickly: "Oh, no, no! I was just +a-talkin' to Jarge——"</p> + +<p>"Well, just stop yir talkin' and be off wid yez to school! Do ye hear me +now, all o' yez!" Mrs. O'Brien opened the kitchen door and, raising her +apron aloft, drove them out with a "Shoo!" as though they were so many +chickens.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +<a name="II" id="II"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER II</span><br /> +<br /> +THE SCHNITZER</h2> + + +<p class="noi">"<span class="smcap">Tell</span> me now, Rosie, are you having any trouble with your papers?" +Terence asked this as he and Rosie and little Jack started off for +school.</p> + +<p>Terence had a regular newspaper business which kept him busy every day +from the close of school until dark. His route had grown so large that +recently he had been forced to engage the services of one or two +subordinates. Rosie had begged to be given a job as paper-carrier, to +deliver the papers in their own immediate neighbourhood, and Terence was +at last allowing her a week's trial. If she could be a newsgirl without +attracting undue attention, he would be as willing to pay her twenty +cents a week as to pay any ordinary small boy a quarter.</p> + +<p>Twenty cents seemed a princely wage to one handicapped by the limitation +of sex, and Rosie was determined to make good. So, when Terence inquired +whether she were having any trouble, she declared at once:</p> + +<p>"No, Terry, honest I'm not. Every one's just as nice and kind to me as +they can be. Those two nice Miss Grey ladies always give me a cookie, +and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> nice old Danny Agin nearly always has an apple for me."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Terence, severely—besides being Rosie's brother, fourteen +years old and nearly two years her senior, he was her employer and so +simply had to be severe—"Well, just see that you don't eat too many +apples!"</p> + +<p>Terence and Jack turned into the boys' school-yard and Rosie pursued her +way down to the girls' gate. Just before she reached it, a boy, biggish +and overgrown, with a large flat face and loosely hung joints, ran up +behind her and shouted:</p> + +<p>"Oh, look at the paper-girl, paper-girl, paper-girl! Rosie O'Brien, +O'Brien, O'Brien!"</p> + +<p>He seemed to think there was something funny in the name O'Brien, and +his own name, mind you, was Schnitzer!</p> + +<p>Rosie marched on with unhearing ears, unseeing eyes. Other people, +however, heard, for in a moment, one of the little girls clustered about +the school-yard gate rushed over to her, jerking her head about like an +indignant little hen.</p> + +<p>"Don't you care what that old Schnitzer says, Rosie! Just treat him like +he's beneath your contemp'!"</p> + +<p>Whereupon she herself turned upon the Schnitzer and, with most withering +sarcasm, called out: "Dutch!"</p> + +<p>Rosie's friend's name was McFadden, Janet McFadden.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span>Why +don't you just tell Terry on him?" Janet said, when they were safe +within the crowded school-yard and able to discuss at length the +cowardice of the attack. "It wouldn't take Terry two minutes to punch +his face into pie-crust!"</p> + +<p>"I know, Janet, but don't you see if I was to tell Terry, then he'd +think I was getting bothered on my paper route and take it away from me. +He's not quite sure, anyhow, whether girls ought to carry papers."</p> + +<p>Janet clucked her tongue in sympathy and understanding. "Does that +Schnitzer bother you every afternoon, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and he's getting worse. Yesterday he tried to grab my papers and +he tore one of them. I'm just scared to death when I get near his house, +honest, I am."</p> + +<p>Janet clenched her hands and drew a long shivering breath. "Do you know, +Rosie, boys like him—they just make me so mad that I almost—I almost +<em>bust</em>!"</p> + +<p>Black care sat behind Rosie O'Brien's desk that afternoon. It was her +fifth day as paper-carrier and, but for Otto Schnitzer, she knew that +she would be able to complete satisfactorily her week of probation. Was +he to cause her failure? Her heart was heavy with fear but, after +school, when she met Terry, she smiled as she took her papers and +marched off with so brave a show of confidence that Terry, she felt +sure, suspected nothing.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>As +usual, she had no trouble whatever on the first part of her route. At +sight of her papers a few people smiled but they all greeted her +pleasantly enough, so that was all right. One boy called out, "How's +business, old gal?" but his tone was so jolly that Rosie was able to +sing back, "Fine and dandy, old hoss!" So that was all right, too.</p> + +<p>The Schnitzer place was toward the end of her route, a few doors before +she reached Danny Agin's cottage. As she passed it, no Otto was in +sight, and she wondered if for once she was to be allowed to go her way +unmolested. A sudden yell from the Schnitzers' garden disclosed Otto's +whereabouts and also his disappointment not to be on the sidewalk to +meet her. He came pounding out in all haste but she was able to make +Danny Agin's gate in safety.</p> + +<p>Rosie always delivered Danny's paper in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Come in!" said Danny's voice in answer to her knock.</p> + +<p>Rosie opened the door and Danny received her with a friendly, "Ah now, +and is it yourself, Rosie? I've been waiting for you this half-hour."</p> + +<p>He was a little apple-cheeked old man who wheezed with asthma and was +half-crippled with rheumatism. "Mary!" he called to some one in another +room. "It's Rosie O'Brien. Have you something for Rosie?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>A +voice, as serious in tone as Danny's was gay, came back in answer: +"Tell Rosie to look on the second shelf of the panthry."</p> + +<p>Rosie went to the pantry—it was a little game they had been playing +every afternoon—and on the second shelf found a shiny red apple.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Danny. I do love apples."</p> + +<p>Danny shook his head lugubriously. "I'm afeared there won't be many +more, Rosie. We're gettin' to the bottom of the barrel and summer's +comin'. But can't you sit down for a minute and talk to a body?"</p> + +<p>Rosie sat down. As she had only two more papers to deliver, she had +plenty of time. But she had nothing to say.</p> + +<p>Danny, watching her, drew a long face. "What's the matter, Rosie dear? +Somebody dead?"</p> + +<p>Rosie shook her head and sighed. "That old Otto Schnitzer's waiting for +me outside."</p> + +<p>Danny exploded angrily. "The Schnitzer, indeed! I'd like to give that +lad a crack wid me stick!"</p> + +<p>"Danny," Rosie said solemnly, "do you know what I'd do if I was a boy?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"I'd try a chin-chopper on Otto Schnitzer. That'd fix him!"</p> + +<p>"It would that!" said Danny, heartily. He paused and meditated. "But +what's a chin-chopper, darlint?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>Rosie +explained. "And Jarge says," she concluded, "they tumble right +over like ninepins."</p> + +<p>"Who's Jarge?"</p> + +<p>"Jarge Riley, our boarder. He's little but he's a dandy scrapper. Terry +says so, too."</p> + +<p>Danny wagged his head. "Jarge is right. I've turned the same thrick +meself in me younger days, many's the time."</p> + +<p>"It would just serve that Otto Schnitzer right, don't you think so, +Danny?"</p> + +<p>"I do!" Danny declared. He looked at Rosie with a sudden light in his +little blue eyes. "Say, Rosie, why don't you try it on him? He's nuthin' +but a bag o' wind anyhow. One good blow and he'll bust."</p> + +<p>Rosie cried out in protest: "But, Danny, he's so big and I'm so scared! +<a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a>I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to fight, it scares me +so!"</p> + +<p>"Whisht, darlint!" Danny raised a quieting hand. "Mind now what I'm +sayin': Almost everybody's got to fight sometime. I don't mean to pick a +fight but to fight in plain self-protiction. Now it's me own opinion +that young hound of a lad'll never let up on ye, Rosie, till ye larn him +a good lesson. I could give him a crack wid me stick if ever he'd come +nigh enough, but he'd be at you just the same the next time I wasn't +around. Now, Rosie, if you ask me, I'd advise you to farce yirself to +give that young bully a good chin-chopper once and for all. And, what's +more, I'll take me oath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> ye'll never be feared of him again.... Come +here and I'll show you how to go at him. Palm up now with yir fingers +bent making a little cup of the inside of your hand. Do ye see? Now the +thrick is here: Run at him hard and catch his chin in the little cup. +One good blow and you'll push him over. Oh, you can't miss it, Rosie."</p> + +<p>Rosie's breath was coming fast and her hand was cold and shaky. "But I +don't want to do it, Danny, honest I don't! I can't tell you how scared +I am!"</p> + +<p>Danny wagged his head. "Of course you don't want to do it, Rosie. +Because why? Because ye're a little lady. But I know one thing: ye'll +make yirself do it! And them that makes theirselves do it, not because +they want to do it but because it's the right thing to do, I tell ye, +Rosie, them's the best fighters! Come, come, I'll crawl out to the gate +wid ye and hold yir apple for you while ye do the business."</p> + +<p>Fixing his bright little eyes upon her, Danny waited until Rosie had, +perforce, to consent. Then, with her help, he stood up and slowly +hobbled to the door.</p> + +<p>"We won't mintion the matther to the ould woman," he whispered with a +wink. "She mightn't understand."</p> + +<p>Rosie almost hoped that old Mary would catch them and haul Danny back, +but she could not, of course, give the alarm.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>As +she had expected, the Schnitzer was there waiting for her. At sight +of Danny he moved off a little.</p> + +<p>"Now then, Rosie dear," Danny whispered, after Rosie had propped him +securely against the gate-post; "at him and may luck be wid ye! It's +high time that young cock crowed his last!"</p> + +<p>As Danny spoke, the Schnitzer's taunting cry rang out: "Look at the +paper-girl, paper-girl, paper-girl!"</p> + +<p>Rosie started up the street and the Schnitzer cavorted and pranced some +little distance in the front of her, making playful pounces at her +papers, threatening to clutch her hair, her arms, her dress. Then, +suddenly, he stood still, stretching himself across the middle of the +walk to bar her passage.</p> + +<p>Rosie's heart pounded so hard she could scarcely breathe. She wanted to +dodge to the side and run, she wanted to turn back, she wanted to do +anything rather than go straight on. But she felt Danny's presence +behind her, she heard the click-clack he was making with his stick to +encourage her, and she pushed herself forward.</p> + +<p>Then her mood changed. What had she ever done to this great lout of a +boy that he should be annoying her thus? He was not only terrorizing her +daily with no provocation whatever but, in addition, he was doing his +best to beat her out of her job. Yes, if she lost this well-paying job +tomorrow, it would be his fault, for he was the one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> thing on the route +that caused her trouble.... Oh, for the fist of a Jarge to give him the +chin-chopper he deserved!</p> + +<p>She was close on to him now, looking him full in the eye. "Otto +Schnitzer, you let me go by!" The words came so naturally that she was +not conscious of speaking. "I guess I got as much right to this sidewalk +as you have!"</p> + +<p>"You have, have you? Well, who do you think you are, anyway?" The +Schnitzer pushed out his jaw at her and grinned mockingly.</p> + +<p><em>Who do you think you are?</em> Where had Rosie heard those insulting words +before? Ah, she remembered and, as she remembered, all fear seemed +instantly to leave her heart and she cried out in ringing tones:</p> + +<p>"Who do I think I am? I'm the conductor of this car and if you——"</p> + +<p>Rosie made for the Schnitzer and, with all her strength, sent the cup of +her hand straight at his chin. You have seen a ninepin wobble +uncertainly for a moment, then go down. The comparison is inevitable. A +yell of rage and fright from the sidewalk at her feet brought Rosie to +her senses. Glory be, she had chin-choppered him good and proper!</p> + +<p>But what to do next? What next? In her mind's eye Rosie saw the interior +of a street-car with George Riley dancing a jig on the prostrate form of +a giant. Thereupon Danny Agin and Mary, his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> wife, who by this time had +joined him, and the woman next door, with a baby in her arms, saw Rosie +O'Brien perform a similar jig over the squirming members of the +Schnitzer.</p> + +<p>That trampled creature was sending forth a terrific bellow of, "Murder! +Murder! Mommer! Help! I'm gettin' killed!"</p> + +<p>"And just good for him, too!" the woman with the baby shouted over to +Mary and Danny. "I've been watching the way he's been teasing the life +out of that little girl!"</p> + +<p>"Good wur-r-rk, Rosie, good wur-r-rk!" old Danny kept wheezing as he +pounded his stick in enthusiastic applause.</p> + +<p>As the jig ended, Rosie stooped and snatched off the Schnitzer's cap. +For a moment she hesitated, for there was no mud-puddle on the street +into which to throw it. Then she noticed a tree. Good! That would give +him some trouble. She twisted the cap in her hand and tossed it up into +a high branch where it lodged securely.</p> + +<p>Then she leaned over the Schnitzer for the last time. He was moaning and +groaning and whimpering with no least little spark of fight left in him. +And was this the thing she used to be afraid of? Danny was right: never +again would she fear him. She gazed at him long and scornfully. Then she +gave him one last stir with her foot and brought the episode to a close.</p> + +<p>"Now then, you big bully, if you've had enough,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> get off this car—I +mean, <em>sidewalk</em>, and go home and tell your—your <em>mother</em>, I mean, that +she wants you!"</p> + +<p>And, as Rosie said that evening in relating the adventure to George +Riley: "And, oh, Jarge, you just ought ha' seen how that stiff got up +and went!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +<a name="III" id="III"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER III</span><br /> +<br /> +THE PAPER-GIRL</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">On</span> Saturday night as soon as supper was cleared away, Terence was +accustomed to make out his weekly accounts. He had a small account-book +with crisscross rulings and two fascinating little canvas money-bags, +one for coppers, the other for nickels and silver. After his book +accounts were finished, he would gravely open his money-bags and, with +banker-like precision, pile up together coins of the same +denomination—pennies by themselves, nickels by themselves, dimes, and +so on.</p> + +<p>Though oft repeated, it was an impressive performance and one that Rosie +and little Jack surveyed with untiring gravity and respect. With a frown +between his eyes and his lips working silently, Terence would estimate +the totals of the various piles, then the sum total. He would very +deliberately compare this with the amount his book showed and then—it +always happened just this way—with a sigh of relief, he would murmur to +himself: "All right this time!"</p> + +<p>On this particular night, instead of sweeping the money piles back into +their little bags at once,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> Terence paused and looked at Rosie with a +questioning: "Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well." Rosie used the same word with a different intonation.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I owe you twenty cents."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Terry, you do."</p> + +<p>"Are you having any trouble?"</p> + +<p>With a truthfulness that made her own heart glow with happiness, Rosie +was able to answer: "No, I'm not having a bit of trouble, honest I'm +not. You're going to let me have it now regular, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>Before Terence could answer, Ellen O'Brien, who was seated on the far +side of the table, presumably studying the pothooks of stenography, +called out suddenly: "Ma! Ma! Come here! Quick!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien appeared at once. She was still nursing the baby to sleep, +but no matter. Whenever her oldest child called, Mrs. O'Brien came.</p> + +<p>"Say, Ma, I think it's disgraceful the way Terry's letting Rosie sell +papers. If I was you I just wouldn't allow it! It's awful for a girl to +sell papers!"</p> + +<p>Rosie's heart sank. Was this comfortable income of twenty cents a week +now, at the last moment, to be snatched from her?</p> + +<p>"Aw now, Mama," she began; "it's only right around here where every one +knows me, honest it is! This is the end of Terry's route and he gets<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +here so late that if I don't help him he'll lose his customers, won't +you, Terry?"</p> + +<p>Rosie appealed to Terence, but Terence was busy scowling at his older +sister. "Say, Ellen O'Brien, what do you think you are? You mind your +own business or I'll give that pompadour of yours a frizzle!"</p> + +<p>Ellen concentrated on her mother: "I don't care, Ma! You just mustn't +let her! How do you think I'd feel going into a swell office some day, +hunting a job, and have the man say, no, he didn't want any common +newsgirls around!"</p> + +<p>For a moment every one was silent, overcome by the splendour of that +imagined office. Then Terence broke into a jeer:</p> + +<p>"Aw, forget it! If Rosie was to make her living selling papers, who'd +know about it downtown? And if some one from downtown did see her, how +would they know she was your sister? Say, Sis, it's time for you to go +shine your nails!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Ma, just listen to that! I wish you'd make Terry stop always +making fun of me! Haven't I got to keep my hands nice if ever I'm going +to be a stenog?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien tried hard to restore a general peace: "Terry lad, you +mustn't be talkin' that way to your sister. P'rhaps what Ellen says is +right. I dunno. We'll see what himself says when he comes in."</p> + +<p>The young O'Briens were used to having their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> mother refer to their +father as one to decide all sorts of vexed questions. When he was out of +the house he seemed the person to appeal to. When, however, Jamie +O'Brien was at home, no one ever heeded him in the least. He would come +in tired and silent from his run and, after sitting about in +shirtsleeves and socks long enough to smoke a pipe, would slip quietly +off to bed. So no one was deceived by Mrs. O'Brien's manœuver of +begging them to await their father's judgment in the matter. Rosie and +Terence would have been willing to let it mark the close of the +discussion, but not Ellen.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, Ma," she insisted, "it's a perfect disgrace if you don't +stop it right now!"</p> + +<p>Terry regarded his sister grimly. "Listen here, Ellen O'Brien, I've got +something to say to you: Who's been paying your carfare and your lunch +money, too, ever since you been going to this fool business college?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien feebly interposed: "Ah now, Terry lad, Ellen's just +borrowin' the money from you. She'll pay you back as soon as she gets a +job, won't you, Ellen dear?"</p> + +<p>Terence grunted impatiently. "Aw, don't go talkin' to me about +borrowin'! I guess I know what borrowin' means in this house! But I tell +you one thing, Ellen O'Brien: if you don't stop your jawin' about Rosie, +it'll be the last cent of carfare and lunch money you ever get out o' +me!"</p> + +<p>More than two-thirds of Terence's weekly earnings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> went into the family +coffers, so what he said carried weight. Ellen tossed her head but was +careful not to speak.</p> + +<p>Terence rumbled on disjointedly: "Business college! Business nuthin'! I +bet all you do down there is look at yourself in a glass and fix your +hair and shine your nails. Huh!"</p> + +<p>Ellen shrugged her handsome shoulders and, tilting a scornful nose, +returned to her pothooks.</p> + +<p>Rosie was jubilant. She was sure Terry had intended letting her keep on, +but Ellen's opposition had clinched the matter firmly.</p> + +<p>"So it's all settled," she told her friend, Janet McFadden, the next +day. "Just think of it, Janet—twenty cents a week!"</p> + +<p>Janet sighed. "My, Rosie! What are you going to do with it all?"</p> + +<p>Rosie hadn't quite decided.</p> + +<p>Janet was ready with a good suggestion. "Why don't you save it and buy +roller skates, Rosie? I don't mean old common sixty-cent ones, but a +fine expensive pair with good ball-bearings. Then you could skate on +Boulevard Place. Why, Rosie, is there anything in the world you'd rather +do than go up to Boulevard Place with a pair of fine skates? And listen +here, Rosie: if you lend them to me in the afternoon while you're on +your paper route, I'll take good care of them, honest I will."</p> + +<p>H'm, roller skates. The longer Rosie thought about the idea, the better +she liked it. She decided<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> to talk it over with Danny Agin on Monday +afternoon when she left him his paper.</p> + +<p>Danny met her with a sly grin. "Have you been chin-chopperin' some more +of them, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at her old friend reprovingly. "Aw now, Danny, why do you +always talk about that? I don't like to fight boys, you know I don't. It +was Otto Schnitzer's own fault. But, Danny, listen here: Bet you can't +guess what I'm saving for."</p> + +<p>Danny couldn't, so Rosie explained. Then she continued:</p> + +<p>"You see it's this way, Danny: those old cheap skates are no good +anyhow. They're always breaking. I'd give anything for a good pair and +so would Janet. We just love to skate on Boulevard Place—the cement's +so smooth and it's so shady and pretty. But do you know, Danny, last +summer when we used to go up there on one old broken skate they called +us 'muckers.' We're not muckers just because we're poor, are we, Danny?"</p> + +<p>Danny Agin snorted with indignation. "As long as ye mind yir manners, +ye're not to be called muckers! You don't fight 'em, Rosie, and call 'em +names, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, Danny, I don't, honest I don't, but sometimes Janet does. She gets +awful mad if any one calls her 'Cross-back!' You see, Danny, they're all +Protestants and Jews on Boulevard Place."</p> + +<p>"From their manners, Rosie, I'd know that!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>"But it seems to me, Danny, if we had a pair of ball-bearing skates we'd +be just as good as they are."</p> + +<p>"Betther!" said Danny.</p> + +<p>"So you think I'm right to save for skates, do you, Danny?"</p> + +<p>"Do I think so? I do. Why, Rosie dear, as soon as people find out that +ye're savin' in earnest, they'll be givin' ye many an odd penny here and +there. Let me see now.... Go to the panthry, Rosie, and on the third +shelf from the top ye'll see a cup turned upside down, and under the +cup—well, I dunno what's under the cup."</p> + +<p>Rosie went to the pantry and under the cup found two nice brown pennies. +"Thanks, Danny. But do you think Mis' Agin would want me to take them?"</p> + +<p>"Mary? Why, Mary'd be givin' ye a nickel—she's that proud of you for +chin-chopperin' the young Schnitzer. He stones her cat, but if he does +it again she'll be warnin' him that you'll take after him. Ha, ha, +that'll stop him if anything will!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +<a name="IV" id="IV"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER IV</span><br /> +<br /> +A LITTLE SAVINGS ACCOUNT</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">What</span> Danny said proved right. As soon as Rosie's immediate family and +friends heard of the project, they gave her every encouragement. Little +Jack lent her his last Christmas money-box—one of those tin banks whose +opening is supposed to be burglarproof against the seducing attractions +of all hatpins and buttonhooks except those employed by its rightful +owner—and Mrs. O'Brien suggested at once that the old wardrobe upstairs +would be the place of greatest safety for the bank.</p> + +<p>"You can get into it whenever you like, Rosie dear, for you know +yourself where the key's to be found."</p> + +<p>It might be argued that every one else in the family knew where the key +was to be found, for it was an open secret that its hiding-place was +under the foot of the washstand. Nevertheless, it was an accepted +tradition that anything in the wardrobe was under lock and key and +therefore safe. So, with unbounded confidence, Rosie slipped her first +week's wages into Jack's money-box and carefully locked the old +wardrobe.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>George Riley, the boarder, was the first to make a handsome +contribution.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Rosie," he said, "here you are carrying my supper up to +the cars every night and I've never said anything more than 'Thank you.' +I just tell you I'm ashamed of myself! After this I'm going to pay you a +nickel a week regular."</p> + +<p>"Aw now, Jarge, you won't do any such thing!" Rosie shook her head +vigorously. "You can't afford it! And besides, Jarge, I just love to +carry your supper up to the cars, honest I do!"</p> + +<p>"Of course you do! And why? 'Cause you're my girl!" George turned +Rosie's face up and gave her a hearty kiss. "Now you'll be making +twenty-five cents a week regular. Here's a nickel for last week."</p> + +<p>Twenty-five cents a week and two good sure jobs to one who, but a few +days before, was nothing but a penniless creature dependent on any +chance windfall! Rosie hugged herself in delighted amazement. She even +bragged a little to her friend Janet McFadden.</p> + +<p>"Why, Janet, once you know how to do it, making money's just as easy as +falling off a log! Look at me: My papers don't take me more'n half an +hour in the afternoon and carrying Jarge's supper-pail up to the cars is +just fun. And every Saturday night twenty-five cents, if you please!"</p> + +<p>Janet said "Oh!" with a rising inflection and "Oh!" with a falling +inflection: "Oh! Oh!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>"And besides that, if I hadn't my paper route I'd have to take care of +Geraldine all afternoon. Don't you see?"</p> + +<p>"You would indeed, Rosie, I know you would."</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at her friend thoughtfully. "Say, Janet, why don't you get +a job? Of course, I'll lend you my skates, but if we both had a pair we +could go to Boulevard Place together. Wouldn't that be fun?"</p> + +<p>Janet cleared her throat apologetically. "Do you think Terry would give +me a job, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Hardly. Though he did employ Rosie, Terence was scarcely in position to +employ every needy female that might apply to him. Rosie spoke kindly +but firmly:</p> + +<p>"No, Janet, I don't believe Terry can take on any more girls. When I get +my skates, though, I tell you what I'll do: I'll let you 'sub' for me +sometimes. Yes. On the afternoons I go to skate on Boulevard Place, I'll +let you deliver my papers. I'll pay you three cents a day. Three cents +ain't much but, if you save 'em real hard, they count up—really they +do. If you 'sub' for me eight different times then you'll have +twenty-four cents. I told you, didn't I, that twenty-five cents is +what's coming in to me now every week regular?"</p> + +<p>Yes, Rosie had already specified the amount many times but Janet, being +a devoted friend, exclaimed with unabated enthusiasm: "You don't say so, +Rosie! Well, I think that's just grand!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>Janet was right. It is fine to have an income that permits one to enjoy +the good things of life. Without a touch of envy Rosie could now view +the rich Jews and Protestants as they skimmed the smooth surface of +Boulevard Place. She, too, would soon be rolling along as well skated as +the best of them. The time was not far distant when, hearing the soft +whirr of the ball-bearings, they would look at her with a new respect +and no longer call out "Mucker!" the moment her back was turned.</p> + +<p>This was the happy side of saving. There was, however, another side, and +to ignore it would be to ignore the effect upon character which any +effort as conscious as saving must produce. In simple innocence Rosie +had started out supposing that all that was necessary toward saving was +to have something savable. She soon discovered her mistake. The prime +essential in saving was not, after all, the possession of a tidy little +sum coming in at regular intervals, so much as the ability to keep that +sum intact. That is to say, for the sake of this one Big Thing, that +looms up faint but powerfully attractive on the distant horizon, you +must do without all the Little Things that make daily life so pleasant.</p> + +<p>Alas, once you begin saving, you may no longer heedlessly sip the joys +of the moment taking no thought for the morrow. Saving involves thought +for the morrow first of all! In the old days when she hadn't a penny, +Rosie had somehow managed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> to enjoy an occasional ice-cream cone, or a +moving picture show, or a cent's worth of good candy. Now, on the other +hand, with money in the bank, these and all like indulgences were +forbidden. She was saving!</p> + +<p>If for a moment she tried to forget the wearisome task to which she had +publicly dedicated herself, some one was always at hand to remind her of +it and to rescue her, as it were, from her weaker self. For instance, if +she even hinted of thirst in the neighbourhood of a root-beer stand, +Janet McFadden would turn pale with fright and hurriedly drag her off, +imploring her to remember that, once she had her skates, she could have +all the root-beer she wanted. Yes, of course, but Rosie sometimes felt +that she wanted it when she wanted it and not at some far-off time when +she would, no doubt, be too old and decrepit to enjoy it.</p> + +<p>The experience began to give Rosie a clue to one of those mysteries of +conduct which had long puzzled her. She had never stood in front of the +glowing posters of a picture show, saying to herself or to any one that +chanced to be with her: "I tell you what: If I had a nickel, I bet I +know what I'd do with it!" nor paused before a bakery shop or a candy +store, that she hadn't seen other people—men, women, and children—with +eyes as full of desire as her own. What used to amaze her was that many +of these people, she was absolutely sure, had money in their pockets. +Heretofore, in her ignorance of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> life, she had supposed that, to possess +yourself of anything you wanted, was a simple enough matter provided you +had money in your pocket—or in your bank, which is the same thing. What +a mistake she had made! How she had misjudged those poor creatures who, +in spite of their jingling pockets, so often turned regretful backs upon +the pleasures of life. Rosie understood now. Money in their pockets had +nothing to do with it for—they were saving.</p> + +<p>Unknown even to themselves they were all members of a mystic +brotherhood, actuated by the same impulse, undergoing the same +sacrifices for some ultimate benefit. Look where she would, she saw them +plainly: Miss Hattie Graydon, Ellen's fashionable friend, saving for an +outing in Jersey; Janet McFadden's poor mother always saving for a new +wash-boiler; George Riley saving to give himself a good start on his +father's farm; and now, the newest recruit to their ranks, Rosie +herself, saving for ball-bearing roller skates.</p> + +<p>"I'd just love to go with you! If there's anything I do enjoy, it's a +matinée. But I can't. I got to have a new hat this spring."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to lend it to you, Charley, the worst ever, but I don't see +how I can. I got to save every cent this year for payments on the +house."</p> + +<p>"Waffles nuthin'! I ain't goin' a-spend a cent till I got enough money +for a new baseball mitt!"</p> + +<p>They were the things Rosie had been hearing all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> her life but never +until now had she grasped what they meant. Think of it, oh, think of +it—the heroic self-denial that masks itself in commonplaces like these! +Rosie wondered if the others, too, had their moments of weakness. +Weren't there perhaps times when George Riley sighed over the shabbiness +of his clothes, realizing that, if only he were a little sportier, Ellen +might not scorn him so utterly?</p> + +<p>Theoretically practice makes easy, but Rosie found that the practice of +self-denial, instead of growing easier, became harder as time went by. +The week she had a dollar ninety-five in her bank, a Dog and Pony Show +pitched its tent in a field which Rosie had to pass every afternoon on +her paper route. She thought the sight of that tent would kill her +before the week was over. The only things talked about at school were +Skippo, the monkey that jumped the rope, Fifi, the dancing poodle, and +Don, the pony, who shook hands with people in the front row. Afternoon +admission was ten cents but, nevertheless, there were people who +attended daily.</p> + +<p>Even Janet McFadden, valiant soul that she was, grew pale and wan under +the strain. "Of course, though, Rosie," she said, "you wouldn't have +time to go even if some one was to give you a ticket."</p> + +<p>This was Friday, so Rosie was able to answer: "I could go tomorrow +afternoon, Janet. You know the Saturday matinée begins at two instead of +half-past three. That'd get it over by four. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> could ask you or +somebody to get my papers for me and meet me at the tent at four +o'clock. Then I'd be only a few minutes late."</p> + +<p>Janet made hopeless assent. "Yes, I could get them for you all right. +And if some one was to give me a ticket, Tom Sullivan would get them for +you—I know he would. Tom would do anything for you, Rosie."</p> + +<p>Tom was Janet's red-haired cousin and a flame of Rosie's.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Janet, I suppose Tom would. But there's no use talking about +it.... Now if only I could just take——"</p> + +<p>Rosie broke off and Janet, understanding her thought, murmured hastily: +"No, no, Rosie! Of course you can't take any of that!"</p> + +<p>Janet was right. Rosie could not possibly raid her own bank. Too many +eyes were upon her. Yet all she needed was a quarter: ten cents for +herself, ten for Janet, and five for her small brother. She couldn't go +without Janet and Jack and, as she hadn't a cent anyhow, it was just as +easy to plan the expenditure of a quarter as of a dime.</p> + +<p>She wondered idly if there could by some happy chance be more in her +bank than she supposed. She hadn't counted her savings for nearly a +week. There wasn't much likelihood that a dime or a quarter or a nickel +had escaped her count, but perhaps now—... There was one chance in a +thousand, for Rosie was not very strong in addition.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> At any rate, after +supper she would slip up to the wardrobe and, with a bent hairpin, make +investigations. A dollar ninety-five was all she was responsible for to +the world at large. If her bank contained more, she could appropriate +the surplus and no one be the wiser.</p> + +<p>Supper afforded one excitement.</p> + +<p>"Oh, lookee!" Jack suddenly cried, pointing an excited finger at Ellen. +It was the period of pompadour and false hair and Rosie and Terence, +following Jack's finger, saw a new cluster of shiny black curls in +Ellen's already elaborate coiffure.</p> + +<p>"Get on to the curls, Rosie," Terence remarked facetiously. "Lord, ain't +we stylish!"</p> + +<p>Ellen made no remark but seemed a little flurried.</p> + +<p>"Shame on you, Terry!" Mrs. O'Brien expostulated. "Talkin' so of your +own sister! Don't you know if Ellen's to be a stenog, she's got to be +careful of her appearance? All the young ladies at the college are +wearing curls."</p> + +<p>Terence answered shortly: "She can wear all the curls she wants as soon +as she's able to pay for them. But I tell you one thing, Ma: you needn't +think you're going to get me to pay for them, because I won't. She tried +to work me for them last week and I told her I wouldn't."</p> + +<p>Ellen regarded her brother distantly. "You make me tired, Terence +O'Brien. When you're asked to pay for these curls it'll be time for you +to squeal."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>"Are they paid for already?"</p> + +<p>"Of course they're paid for already. Do you think I can get curls on +tick?"</p> + +<p>Terence's incredulity changed to suspicion. Turning to his mother he +demanded: "Did you give her the two dollars you begged from me for the +baby's food?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien spread out distracted hands. "Why, Terry lad, of course I +didn't! Rosie went to the drug-store herself with the money, didn't you, +Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Yes, Rosie had, but even this did not satisfy Terry.</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, I bet she's playing crooked somewhere!"</p> + +<p>Ellen disdained to answer and Rosie remarked: "I'd rather spend my money +on skates than on old curls."</p> + +<p>Ellen looked at her kindly. "They say skates are going out of style, +Rosie."</p> + +<p>Rosie folded her hands complacently. "I don't care whether they're going +out or coming in. I don't like 'em because they're fashionable but +because I like 'em. If the Boulevard Placers didn't have one pair I'd +want to go up there by myself and skate by myself just the same. I love +roller skates! And, what's more, by the time vacation comes I'll have +the finest pair of ball-bearing skates in town! And vacation, mind you, +comes at the end of next week!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>Terence nodded a cautious approval. "You're that close to the finish, +are you, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I am. Tomorrow night when I get paid I'll have two twenty and, by +the end of next week, if I can manage to scrape up an extra nickel, I'll +have two fifty exact."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien fluttered her hands nervously. "I dunno about all this +skatin', Rosie dear. I dunno if it's healthy to jump around so."</p> + +<p>Rosie smiled superiorly. "I don't jump around. I know how to skate."</p> + +<p>A few moments later Ellen excused herself from her usual evening duties +on the plea that her friend, Hattie Graydon, had invited her out. So +Rosie had to wipe the supper dishes as well as wash them before she +could slip upstairs for the purpose of counting her savings.</p> + +<p>She found the wardrobe key in its usual place and the little bank where +she had put it, hidden beneath her mother's Sunday hat. She reached for +it and lifted it up and then, with a loud cry, she clutched it hard and +shook it with all her might.</p> + +<p>"Ma! Ma!" she screamed, flying wildly downstairs. "My money! Some one's +taken all my money!"</p> + +<p>"Ssh!" Mrs. O'Brien implored. "Ye'll be wakin' Geraldine!"</p> + +<p>For once Rosie heeded not the warning. "I tell you my money's gone! Some +one stole it! Listen here!" She was weeping distractedly and waving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> the +empty bank aloft. "There's not a cent left! And, Terry, look here how +they took it!"</p> + +<p>The thief had not even had the grace to use a hairpin, but had calmly +bent back the opening slit.</p> + +<p>Terence looked at his mother sternly. "Ma, who took Rosie's money?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien squirmed uncomfortably. "Now, Terry lad, how do I know who +took it? But I do know this: whoever it was that took it only borrowed +it and Rosie'll get paid back."</p> + +<p>"Paid back!" wept Rosie. "Don't talk to me about getting paid back in +this house! I guess I know!"</p> + +<p>With a determined eye Terence held his mother's wavering attention. +"Now, Ma, you know very well who took that money and I want you to tell +me."</p> + +<p>"Why, Terry lad, how you talk!" Mrs. O'Brien turned her head to listen, +in hopes, apparently, that the baby would require her presence. "But I +will say one thing, Terry: Ye know yirself a young girl, if she goes +out, has to keep up appearances."</p> + +<p>Terence nodded grimly. "So it was Ellen, was it? I thought so."</p> + +<p>"Ellen," Rosie repeated in a dazed tone. Then her body grew tense, her +eyes blazed. "Terry, I know! Those curls! I bet anything it was those +curls!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien made no denial and Rosie, dropping her head on the table, +wept her heart out.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>"Terry, Terry, what do you know about that! And after the way I been +working hard and saving every cent for two whole months! Just think of +it! And you know yourself the fuss she always made about my selling +papers at all! It's disgraceful for me to sell papers because I'm a +girl, but it ain't disgraceful for her to go steal all my money and buy +curls!... And I can't do nuthin'! If she was a nigger, I could have her +arrested but, because she's my own sister, I can't do nuthin'! Oh, how I +hate her, how I hate her!..."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien sighed unhappily. "But, Rosie dear, Ellen'll be paying you +back as soon as she gets a job. She promised me faithfully she would. +You see, she'll soon be going around to them offices now and she feels +she ought to be lookin' her best. Oh, you'll be gettin' back your money +all right! Why, nowadays a good stenog gets ten dollars a week up!"</p> + +<p>Terence cut his mother off sharply. "Aw, forget it! You can't fool Rosie +with guff like that! I tell you, Ellen's nuthin' but a low-down crook +and it's your fault, too, for encouraging her!"</p> + +<p>"But, Terence lad, what could I do? I thried to dissuade her, but ye +know yirself how set she is once she gets an idea into her head."</p> + +<p>Yes, Terence and Rosie both knew and they knew, likewise, their mother's +helplessness in her hands. With no further words they could easily +imagine just what had taken place. Mrs. O'Brien<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> had, no doubt, tried +hard to protect Rosie's interests. She could always be depended on to +protect the interests of an absent child. Her present attitude was an +evidence of this, for now she was turned about seeking to defend Ellen +because Ellen was absent.</p> + +<p>A wail from upstairs brought her ineffectual excuses to a close and, +with a "Whisht! The baby!" she fled.</p> + +<p>Rosie, crushed and miserable, wept on. Terence put an awkward hand on +her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Say, Rosie, I'm awful sorry, honest I am. I wish I could give you a +quarter, but I can't this week. They've cleaned me out. Here's a nickel, +though."</p> + +<p>Rosie did not want the nickel; at that moment she did not want anything; +she took it, however, because Terry wished her to.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Terry. It wasn't your fault. You're not a sneak and a thief. +I—I'm glad some of my relations are honest."</p> + +<p>Little Jack, who had been listening gravely, snuggled up with a sudden +suggestion: "Say, Rosie, if you want me to, I'll kick her in the shins +when she comes in."</p> + +<p>Rosie wiped her eyes sadly. "No, Jackie, I don't see how that'll do any +good."</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to spit in her eye?"</p> + +<p>Rosie gave Jack a tight hug, for his sympathy was sweet. Then she shook +her head reprovingly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> "You mustn't talk like that, Jackie, and you +mustn't do things like that, either. You don't want to be a mucker, do +you?"</p> + +<p>For this once Jack thought that perhaps he did, but, when Rosie +insisted, he promised to behave.</p> + +<p>From babyhood he had been Rosie's special charge, so now, when the time +came, she took him upstairs and saw him safely to bed. Then she herself +slipped down to the front porch and there on the steps, in the dark +electric shadow, she waited for her friend, George Riley.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +<a name="V" id="V"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER V</span><br /> +<br /> +GEORGE RILEY ON MUCKERS</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Rosie</span> had not long to wait, as George's run ended at nine o'clock.</p> + +<p>"Sst! Jarge!" she called softly as he bounded up the steps and would +have passed her in the dark.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"Sit down a minute, Jarge. I want to ask you something."</p> + +<p>George mopped his head with his handkerchief and drew a long breath. +"Whew, but I'm tired, Rosie! I rang up over seventy-five fares three +times tonight."</p> + +<p>Rosie opened with no preliminary remarks. "Say, Jarge, can you lend me +twenty-five cents until tomorrow night? You know I get paid tomorrow."</p> + +<p>"Sure, Rosie. What for?"</p> + +<p>"I want to go to the Dog Show matinée."</p> + +<p>George paused a moment. "But, Rosie, you don't need twenty-five cents +for that. You told me it was ten cents."</p> + +<p>"I know, Jarge, but I want to take Jackie and Janet."</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie!"</p> + +<p>"Well, if I don't, poor Janet'll never get there.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> She never gets +anywhere. You know her father boozes every cent. And I just got to take +Jackie if I go myself. Besides, he'll only cost me five cents and that +will let me use the nickel Terry gave me for peanuts."</p> + +<p>"But, Rosie,"—George cleared his throat—"I thought you were saving +every penny. You know you can't save and spend at the same time."</p> + +<p>"I'm not saving any more." Rosie spoke quietly, evenly.</p> + +<p>"Not saving any more! What do you mean, Rosie? What's happened?"</p> + +<p>She could feel his kind jolly eyes looking at her through the dark but +she knew that he could not see the tears which suddenly filled her own.</p> + +<p>"N-nothing," she quavered.</p> + +<p>"Rosie! Tell me!" He put his arm about her shoulder and drew her to him. +At the tenderness in his voice and touch, all the sense of outrage and +loss in Rosie's heart welled up afresh and broke in sobs which she could +not control.</p> + +<p>"I wasn't going to tell you, Jarge, honest I wasn't, because you're dead +gone on her and, besides, she's my own sister."</p> + +<p>For a few seconds Rosie could say no more and George, with a sudden +tightening of the arm that encircled her, waited in silence.</p> + +<p>"I—I was going up to count my money, Jarge, and what do you think? Some +one had smashed open the bank and taken every cent! I tell you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> there +wasn't even one cent left! And, Jarge, I've been saving so hard—you +know I have!" She lay on his shoulder, her body shaking with sobs.</p> + +<p>George spoke with an effort: "Why do you think it was Ellen?"</p> + +<p>"Terry and me got it out o' ma. When we cornered her she told us.... And +she's gone and spent it on a bunch of curls! Think of that, Jarge—curls +for her hair! Just because Hattie Graydon's got false curls, Ellen's got +to have them, too! Now do you call that fair? I saved awful hard for +that money, you know I did, and it was my own!"</p> + +<p>George sighed. "Poor kiddo! Of course it was your own! But Ellen'll pay +you back, I—I'm sure she will."</p> + +<p>"That's what ma says. But, Jarge, even if she does, it won't be the same +thing. Just tell me how you'd feel yourself if all your savings were +snatched away from you!"</p> + +<p>George's answer was unexpected. "They have been, Rosie, a good many +times."</p> + +<p>"What!" Rosie sat up in fright and astonishment. "Has she dared to go +and break into your trunk?"</p> + +<p>George laughed weakly. "No, Rosie, it ain't Ellen this time." He paused +a moment. "I've told you about my father's farm. It's a good farm and +I'd rather live on it and work it than do anything else on earth. But +it's got run down, Rosie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> The old man's had a mighty long spell of +unluck. A few years ago he got a little mortgage piled up on it and for +nearly two years now he hasn't kept it up like he ought to. In the +country you've got to have ready money to wipe out mortgages and to +start things goin' right. That's why I'm here in town railroading and +that's why I'm saving every cent until people think I'm a tightwad."</p> + +<p>"But, Jarge, how did they get it away from you so many times?"</p> + +<p>"Well, just to show you: Two years ago one of the barns burned down. +That cost me two hundred dollars. Last summer we lost a couple of our +best cows worth sixty dollars apiece. This winter the old man was laid +up with rheumatiz a couple o' months and it cost me a dollar a day to +get the chores done, let alone the doctor bill. And each time I was just +about ready to blow my job here and hike for home. I thought sure I'd be +doing my own plowing this spring."</p> + +<p>Weariness and discouragement sounded in his voice and Rosie, forgetting +her own troubles, slipped her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>"I'm awful sorry, Jarge. Maybe if nothing happens this summer you'll be +able to go back in the fall."</p> + +<p>George shook himself doggedly. "Oh, I'll get there some time! I cleaned +up the mortgage the first year I was here and now I'm working to pile up +five hundred in the bank before I go. I'm getting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> there, too, but I +hope to God I won't have any more setbacks!"</p> + +<p>"And if you do, Jarge?..."</p> + +<p>The answer came sharp and quick: "I'll save all the harder!"</p> + +<p>For a few moments both were silent. Then George spoke: "I'm sorry, +Rosie, about this thing. I know how you feel. If you want to, after this +you may hide your savings in my trunk. I've got two keys and I'll give +you one."</p> + +<p>"I—I didn't think I was going to save any more, Jarge."</p> + +<p>"Not save? Of course you're going to save! You've got to save!"</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"So's to have something to show for your work!"</p> + +<p>"But it takes so awful long, Jarge, and even then maybe you lose it."</p> + +<p>"I know, Rosie, but even so you got to do it. It's only muckers that +never save."</p> + +<p>"Why, Jarge!"</p> + +<p>"Sure, Rosie. Only muckers. They blow in every cent they get as soon as +they make it or before. That's why they can afford to go off on drunks +and holler around and smash things up. They ain't got nuthin' to lose no +matter what they do. Oh, I tell you, Rosie, just show me a loud-mouthed +mucker and I'll show you a fellow that don't know the first thing about +saving!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>"Really, Jarge?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, really. And the same way, take decent hard-working people and what +do you find? As sure as you're alive, you'll find them saving every cent +to put the children through school, or pay for their home, or take care +of the old folks. I tell you, Rosie, you got to save if ever you get +anywhere in this world!"</p> + +<p>"But, Jarge, I—I think I just got to go to that Dog Show now."</p> + +<p>George laughed and gave her a little hug. "All right, kiddo. Here's the +quarter. Have a good time and tell me about it afterwards. Next week, +you know, you can begin saving in earnest. My trunk——"</p> + +<p>"Please, Jarge," Rosie begged, "don't make me promise. Give me a week to +think about it."</p> + +<p>"Of course you can have a week to think about it." They were standing up +now, ready to go into the house. "But I know all right what you'll +decide."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>George stooped and gave her a hearty country kiss, smack on the mouth. +"Because I know there's nothing of the mucker about Rosie O'Brien!"</p> + +<p>And Rosie, as she slipped upstairs, tying the quarter in the corner of +her handkerchief, suddenly realized that she was no longer unhappy. How +could any one be unhappy who had a friend as good and as kind as George +Riley? And, in addition to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> him, she had nice old Terry—hadn't he given +her a nickel and been sorry it wasn't a quarter?—and dear little Jackie +and the faithful Janet and poor old Danny Agin, too! Thank goodness, +neither Ellen nor any one else could steal them away from her!</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +<a name="VI" id="VI"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER VI</span><br /> +<br /> +JACKIE</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">In</span> declaring that Ellen would repay the money she had taken from Rosie's +bank, Mrs. O'Brien had spoken in all sincerity. She was perfectly +convinced in her own mind that every one of her children would always do +exactly as he should do. She was willing to acknowledge that the poor +dears might occasionally make mistakes, but such mistakes, she was +certain, were mistakes of judgment, not of principle. Give them time, +she begged, and in the end they would do the right thing. She'd stake +her word on that!</p> + +<p>Ellen's own attitude was one of annoyance, not to say resentment, that +she had been forced to raise money for the curls in so troublesome a +manner. Rosie's reproachful glances and Terry's revilings irritated but +in no way touched her. In fact, she seemed to think that, in +appropriating Rosie's savings, she had been acting entirely within her +rights. She would never have been guilty of touching anything belonging +to an outsider but, like many selfish people, she had as little respect +for the property of the members of her own immediate family as she had +for their feelings. It was quite as though she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> conscientiously believed +that the rest of the O'Briens had been placed in this world for the sole +purpose of adding to her comfort and convenience. It always surprised +her, often it bored her, sometimes it even grieved her that they did not +share this view. It seemed to her nothing less than stupidity on their +part not to.</p> + +<p>So, despite her mother's promises, despite George Riley's hopes, Rosie +knew perfectly well that her savings would never be refunded. They were +gone and that was to be the end of them. Thanks to kind George Riley, +Rosie had weathered the first storm of disappointment and had learned +that, notwithstanding a selfish unscrupulous sister, life was still +worth living. Neither then nor later did she definitely forgive Ellen +the theft—how could she forgive when Ellen, apparently, was conscious +of no guilt?—but she tried resolutely not to spend her time in vain +regrets and useless complainings. The days passed and life, like the +great river that it is, flowed over the little tragedy and soon covered +it from sight.</p> + +<p>The school year slowly drew to a close and at last Mrs. O'Brien felt +free to make a request about which she had been throwing out vague hints +for some time.</p> + +<div><a name="here" id="here"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 461px;"> +<img src="images/i-002.jpg" width="461" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie."</span> +</div> + +<p>"Rosie dear," she began with an imploring smile, "now that vacation's +come and you don't have to go back any more to school, won't you, like a +good child, help your poor ma and take care of your little sister +Geraldine? Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>Mrs. O'Brien held out the baby, but Rosie backed resolutely away.</p> + +<p>"Now see here, Ma, you just needn't begin on that, because I won't. I +guess I do enough in this house without taking care of Geraldine: I wash +all the dishes, and that old Ellen O'Brien hardly ever even wipes them; +and I do the outside scrubbing; and I go to the grocery for you six +times a day; and I help with the cooking, too; and I always carry up +Jarge's supper to the cars; and I take care of Jackie. Besides all that, +I got my paper route. I guess that's enough for any one person."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien conceded this readily enough. "Of course it is, Rosie dear, +and I'm not sayin' it ain't. You're a great worker, and a fine little +manager, too. I used to be a manager meself, but after ye've been the +mother of eight, and three of them dead and gone—God rest their +souls!—things kind o' slip away from you, do ye see? What was it I was +sayin' now? Ah, yes, this: now that summer's come, if only ye'd help me +out with Geraldine, p'rhaps I could catch up with me work. Like a +darlint, now."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien, shifting Geraldine from one warm arm to the other, smiled +ingratiatingly; but Rosie only shook her head more doggedly than before.</p> + +<p>"No, Ma. The rest of the people in this house don't do things they don't +want to do, and for once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> I'm not going to either. I tell you I'm not +going to begin lugging Geraldine around!"</p> + +<p>"You poor infant!" Mrs. O'Brien crooned tearfully, "and does nobody love +you? Ah, now, don't cry! Your poor ma loves you even if your own sister +Rosie don't!"</p> + +<p>Responsive to the pity expressed in her mother's tones, Geraldine raised +a fretful wail, but Rosie, though she felt something of a murderess, +still held out.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, Ma, Jackie's my baby. I've taken good care of him, and +that's all you can ask."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien sighed in patient exasperation. "But, Rosie dear, can't you +see that Jackie's a big b'y now, well able to take care of himself?"</p> + +<p>"Take care of himself! Why, Ma, how you talk! Don't I have to wash him +and button his shoes and put him to bed?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I must say, Rosie, it's high time he did such things for +himself—a fine, healthy lad going on six! Why, yourself, Rosie, hadn't +turned six when you began mothering Jackie!"</p> + +<p>It was not a subject Rosie cared to argue, so she retired in dignified +silence. But her mother's words troubled her. In her heart she knew that +Jackie was a well-grown boy even if in many things he was still a baby. +But why shouldn't he still be a baby? The truth was Rosie wanted him to +be a baby; it delighted her to feel that he was dependent on her; it was +her greatest pleasure in life to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> things for him. And if she was +willing to serve him, why, pray, should other people object?</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, though, certain disturbing changes were coming over +Jackie himself. Within a few months he had burst, as it were, the +chrysalis of his babyhood and come forth a full-fledged small boy with +all a small boy's keenness to be exactly like all other small boys. +Rosie's interest in his welfare he had begun to resent as interference; +her supervision of him he was openly repudiating; and, worst of all, he +was showing unmistakable signs of becoming fast friends with Joe +Slattery, youngest member of the family and neighbourhood gang of the +same name. Rosie had done her best to check the growing intimacy, but in +vain. So long as school continued, Jack could meet Joe in the +school-yard, and Rosie had been helpless to interfere. But now, for the +coming of vacation, she had a project carefully thought out. In her own +mind she had already arranged picnics at the zoo, excursions to the +woods, jaunts to the park, that would so occupy and divert the attention +of Jack that he would soon forget Joe and the lure of the Slattery gang.</p> + +<p>What time, may one ask, would Rosie have for this work if she burdened +herself with Geraldine? None whatever. No. Geraldine was her mother's +baby, and if her mother didn't insist on Ellen's relieving her a little, +why, then she would have to go on alone as best she could. With her +everlasting excuse of business college, Ellen did little enough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> about +the house anyway. Rosie hardened her heart and, as the family gathered +for midday meal, was ready with a plan for that very afternoon.</p> + +<p>She broached the subject at the table. "Say, Jackie, do you want to come +with me this afternoon? I'm going somewheres."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dunno."</p> + +<p>Rosie's heart sank. But a short time ago he would have jumped down from +his chair and rushed over to her with an eager: "Oh, Rosie, where you +going? Where you going?" Now all he had to say was an indifferent, "I +dunno."</p> + +<p>Rosie made one more effort to arouse his old enthusiasm. "Me and Janet +are going up to Boulevard Place."</p> + +<p>She waited expectantly, and Jack finally grunted out in bored +politeness: "That so?"</p> + +<p>A moment later his indifference vanished at a vigorous shout from +outside: "Hi, there, Jack! Where are you?" It was Joe Slattery's voice.</p> + +<p>"I'm th'u," Jack announced, gulping down a last bite. "I got to go."</p> + +<p>"Where you going, Jackie?" Rosie tried not to show in her voice the +anxiety she felt.</p> + +<p>"Oh, nowheres. Don't you take hold o' me, Rosie, 'cause I'm in a hurry."</p> + +<p>Rosie went with him to the door, still keeping her hand on his shoulder. +"Please tell me where you're going."</p> + +<p>"You just let go my arm! I'll kick if you don't!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>Jack struggled violently, broke away, and, escaping to a safe distance, +scowled back at Rosie angrily. "'Tain't none o' your business where I'm +going! Guess I can go where I want to!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jackie, Jackie! Is that the way to talk to your poor Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Joe Slattery, who had, of course, instantly espoused his friend's cause, +now spoke: "He's goin' in swimmin'! That's where he's goin' if you want +to know it!"</p> + +<p>"Swimmin'! You mustn't, Jackie, you mustn't! You'll get drownd-ed! Sure +he will, Joe! He don't know how to swim one bit!"</p> + +<p>Joe grinned mockingly. "Guess he can learn, can't he?"</p> + +<p>Rosie paused distractedly, then clutched at the only straw that floated +by. "See here, Jackie, you can go with Joe and you can look on, but +listen: if you promise me you won't go in, I'll give you a whole +nickel!"</p> + +<p>Jack looked at Joe and Joe looked at Jack. Then with the eye farthest +away from Rosie, Rosie thought she saw Joe screw out a small wink. +Thereupon Jack turned to Rosie with a frank, guileless smile.</p> + +<p>"All right, Rosie. You give me a nickel and I won't—honest I won't."</p> + +<p>"You promise me faithfully you won't go in?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I won't, Rosie! Cross my heart!"</p> + +<p>Rosie drew out one of her hard-earned nickels<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> and gave it to him. He +and Joe promptly hurried off.</p> + +<p>"Now, remember!" Rosie called after them, beseechingly; but they seemed +not to hear, for they made her no answer.</p> + +<p>Rosie went back to the table almost in tears. "Jackie's gone off with +that Joe Slattery and they're goin' in swimmin' and I just know he'll +get drownd-ed!"</p> + +<p>"You don't say so!" ejaculated Mrs. O'Brien. "Why didn't you tell me, +Rosie dear, before they got started?"</p> + +<p>"Tell you!" Rosie's tears changed to scorn. "Why'd I tell you? You know +very well how much you'd do! You always let every one do just what they +want!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien blinked reproachful eyes. "Why, Rosie, how you talk! If +you'd ha' told me that Jackie was goin' in swimmin' I'd ha' gone out to +him and said: 'Now, Jackie dear, mind the water! Don't go in the deep +places first!' I give you me word, Rosie, I'd ha' said it if it were me +last breath!"</p> + +<p>Rosie lost all patience. "I know very well that's exactly what you'd +say! That's all the sense you got! That's all the sense that anybody in +this house has got! And I suppose by this time Jackie's drownd-ed, and +if he is I want to die, too!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked at her in amazement. "Why, Rosie dear, what a +flutter ye do be puttin'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> yourself into! Ah, now I see. It's because +Jackie's your first chick! Take me word for it, darlint, when ye're the +mother of eight ye won't be carryin' on so. Come to think about it, I +remember meself over Mickey—God rest his soul!—the first day he went +swimmin'. Mickey was just turned seven, and Terry here was toddlin' +about on the floor, and yourself was in me arms no bigger than poor wee +Geraldine.</p> + +<p>"'Where's Mickey?' says I to Mrs. Flaherty, who was livin' next door.</p> + +<p>"'Mickey?' says she. 'Why, didn't I see Mickey start off with the b'ys? +They be gone swimmin',' says she.</p> + +<p>"'Swimmin'!' says I, and with that I lets out a yell. 'He'll be +drownd-ed!' says I. 'Me poor Mickey'll be drownd-ed!'</p> + +<p>"'Be aisy, Mrs. O'Brien,' says she; 'or ye'll be spoilin' yir milk and +then what'll ye do?' And she was right, Rosie, was Mrs. Flaherty, for +Mickey got back safe and sound, to be carried off two years later with +scarlet fever!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head complacently and poured herself another cup +of tea.</p> + +<p>Rosie, her face still tragic and woebegone, turned to her brother. "Will +you do something for me, Terry?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Follow Jackie out and see that he don't get into deep water."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>Terry looked at her as if she were crazy. "Sorry, Rosie, but I got +something more to do than trail Jack around. Besides, he's not going to +get hurt. It'll be good for him."</p> + +<p>Rosie washed the dinner dishes in silence, thinking to herself what a +cold-blooded family she had. There was poor wee Jackie out there +drowning, for all they knew, and not one of them willing to stretch +forth a helping hand. She escaped as soon as she could to seek the +sympathy of her friend, Janet McFadden.</p> + +<p>Another blow was in store for her. Janet heard her out and then said: +"But, Rosie, don't all boys go swimming?"</p> + +<p>Rosie was ready to weep with vexation. "What do I care what all boys do? +This is Jack!"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Janet, with maddening logic, "even if it is Jack, I guess +Jack's a boy."</p> + +<p>Drawing herself up to her greatest height, Rosie looked her friend full +in the face. "If that's all you got to say, Janet McFadden, I guess I +had better be going. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>"Don't you want me to help with your papers this afternoon?" Janet +called after her.</p> + +<p>"No!" Rosie spoke brusquely, then added lamely: "I'm in a hurry today."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well!" Janet lifted her head and tightened her lips. "I'm sure +I don't want to go where I'm not wanted."</p> + +<p>"So she's mad at me, too!" Rosie told herself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> as she hurried off, +feeling more miserable than before.</p> + +<p>She got her papers and went about delivering them, nursing her grief in +her heart, till she came to old Danny Agin's cottage. Then she talked +and Danny, as usual, listened quietly and sympathetically.</p> + +<p>At first he had nothing to say. He screwed his head about thoughtfully, +squinted at his pipe, tapped it several times on the porch rail, blew +through the stem, then finally cleared his throat.</p> + +<p>"It's just this way, Rosie: I know exactly how ye feel. Jack's yir own +baby, as it were; but, whist, darlint, he can't be always taggin' after +ye, don't ye see? He's a pretty big lump of a b'y now, and if I was you +I'd just let him run and play by himself when the mood takes him. Then, +when he comes back, just talk to him like nuthin' was the matther, and +upon me word, Rosie, he'll love ye all the more for it."</p> + +<p>"But, Danny," Rosie wailed, "what if he was to get drownd-ed?"</p> + +<p>Danny reached over and patted her on the arm confidentially. "Ah, now, +Rosie, what if we was all to get drownd-ed? You know it happened wance. +Noah was the gintleman's name. From all accounts 'twas a fearful +experience. But 'twas a long time ago, and since then any number of us +have escaped. Why, Rosie dear, I've never yet been drownd-ed meself, and +in me young days I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> was mighty fond of the wather. So cheer up, darlint, +for the chances are that Jackie'll come out all right."</p> + +<p>Rosie dried her eyes listlessly. It seemed to her they were all in +conspiracy against her. Yes, she was sure of it.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +<a name="VII" id="VII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER VII</span><br /> +<br /> +HOW TO KEEP A DUCK OUT OF WATER</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Jack</span> was home in good time for supper.</p> + +<p>"Ah, now, do you see, Rosie?" Her mother pointed to him in triumph. +"It's just as I told you. Here he is safe and sound. But, Jackie dear, +mind now: the next time don't ye go into the deep water until ye know +how to swim."</p> + +<p>Ellen glanced at him amusedly. "Been in swimmin', kid?"</p> + +<p>To Rosie the question seemed both stupid and inane, for Jack's face had +a clean, varnished look that was unmistakable, and his hair had dried in +stiff, shiny streaks close to his head.</p> + +<p>He was hungry and ate with zest, but he said little and carefully +avoided Rosie's eye. Very soon after supper he slipped off quietly to +bed. Rosie did not pursue him. She was waiting for George Riley, upon +whom she was pinning her last hope.</p> + +<p>Presently he came but, before she had time to get his advice, she was +hurried upstairs by Jackie himself, who called down in urgent, tearful +tones:</p> + +<p>"Rosie! Oh, Rosie! Come here! Please come! Come quick!"</p> + +<p>The little front bedroom with its sloping walls<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> and one dormer window +was Ellen's room, theoretically. Actually, Rosie shared Ellen's bed, and +Jack's little cot stood at the bottom of the bed between the door and +the bureau.</p> + +<p>Rosie felt hurriedly for matches and candle. "Now, Jackie dear, what's +the matter? You're not sick, are you? Tell Rosie."</p> + +<p>"It hurts! It hurts!" Jack was sitting up, wailing dolefully. He reached +toward Rosie in a helpless, appealing way that warmed her heart. +Whatever was the matter, it was bringing him back to her.</p> + +<p>"What is it hurts, Jackie?"</p> + +<p>"My back! It burns! I tell you it's just burnin' up!"</p> + +<p>Rosie gently lifted off his nightshirt and held the candle close.</p> + +<p>"Jackie! What's happened to your back and shoulders? They're all red and +swollen! What did those Slattery boys do to you?"</p> + +<p>"They didn't do nuthin', Rosie, honest they didn't. Ouch! Ouch! Can't +you do something to make it stop hurting?"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, Jackie, and I'll call Jarge Riley. Jarge'll know what to +do."</p> + +<p>George came at once and as quickly recognized Jack's ailment. "Ha, ha, +Jack, old boy, how's your sunburn? Jiminy, you've got a good one this +time!... Say, how's the water?"</p> + +<div><a name="gently" id="gently"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px;"> +<img src="images/i-003.jpg" width="408" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Rosie gently lifted off his nightshirt and held the +candle close.</span> +</div> + +<p>"Ugh-h-h!" moaned Jack. "It hurts!" Then with a change of voice he +answered George enthusiastically: "Dandy! Just as warm and nice as +anything!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>George sighed. "Golly! Wisht I was a kid again! There sure is no place +like the old swimmin'-hole in the good old summer-time!"</p> + +<p>Rosie glared indignantly. "Jarge Riley, ain't you ashamed of yourself! +It's dangerous to go in swimming and you know it is! Jackie's never +going in again, are you, Jackie?"</p> + +<p>Jack snuffled tearfully: "My back hurts! Can't some o' you do something +for it?"</p> + +<p>Rosie turned stiffly to George. "What I called you up here for was to +ask you what's good for a sunburnt back."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," murmured George meekly. "Let's see now: We ought to put on +some oil or grease, then some powder or flour."</p> + +<p>"Will lard do?" Rosie still spoke coldly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but vaseline would be better. There's a bottle of vaseline on my +bureau. Do you want to get it, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie hurried off and returned just in time to hear George say: "Oh, you +can go in again in two or three days."</p> + +<p>Rosie blazed on him furiously. "Jarge Riley, what are you telling +Jackie?"</p> + +<p>"I?" He spoke with an assumption of innocence and that look of +guilelessness which Rosie was fast learning to associate with male +deceit. "I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> was just telling him it would take a couple o' days for his +back to peel. Then he'll be all right again."</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at him in scorn, but made no comment. She resolved one +thing: George Riley should have no more moments alone with Jack. When +the time came, she made him go downstairs for the flour-shaker, then +curtly dismissed him.</p> + +<p>"I guess you can go now, Jarge. Jackie wants to go to sleep. Now, Jackie +dear, just lie on your stummick and you'll be asleep in two minutes."</p> + +<p>George hesitated a moment. "Didn't you say you wanted to see me about +something, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at him steadily. "If ever I said that it was before I knew +you as well as I know you now. Now they isn't anything I want to say to +you."</p> + +<p>George gasped helplessly and departed, and Rosie, after settling Jack +comfortably, blew out the candle.... So even George Riley had joined the +conspiracy against her! Well, she was not done fighting yet.</p> + +<p>She insisted upon making an invalid of Jack the next morning, keeping +him in bed and carrying up his breakfast to him. All day long, she +waited on him, hand and foot, loved, amused, coaxed, threatened, bribed +him, until by evening she had him weak and helpless, ready to agree to +anything she might suggest.</p> + +<p>At supper Mrs. O'Brien beamed on him sympathetically and remarked to +Ellen, who was just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> home from business college: "Ellen dear, do you +know the awful back o' sunburn poor wee Jack's got on him? Rosie's been +nursing him all day."</p> + +<p>Ellen glanced at Terry and laughed. "Do you remember, Terry, how you +used to come home after your first swim every summer?"</p> + +<p>Jack looked up eagerly. "Oh, Terry, did you used to get sunburned, too?"</p> + +<p>Terry nodded. "Sure I did. Every fella does."</p> + +<p>Jack's face took on an expression of heavenly content.</p> + +<p>"Is it peeling yet?" Terry asked.</p> + +<p>"No, but it's cracking." Jack's tone was hopeful.</p> + +<p>Rosie moved uneasily. "Terence O'Brien, I just wish you'd look out what +you're saying, and you too, Ellen! It's dangerous to go in swimming, and +Jackie's never going again, are you, Jackie?"</p> + +<p>Jack hesitated a moment, then murmured a weak little "No."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien nodded approvingly. "Ah, now, ain't Jack the good b'y to +promise sister Rosie never to go in swimmin' again!"</p> + +<p>Ellen chuckled. "At least until his back's well!"</p> + +<p>Rosie flew at her sister like an angry little clucking hen. "Ellen +O'Brien, you just mind your own business! Come on, Jackie, we're +through. We're going out in front by ourselves, aren't we?"</p> + +<p>Jack, apparently, wanted to remain where he was; but when Rosie +whispered, "And I've got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> another penny for you," he slipped quietly +down from his chair.</p> + +<p>When you know that this was Jack's fifth penny for that day, you have +some idea of what the struggle was costing Rosie. A week's wages seemed +in a fair way of being eaten up in a few days. It was a fearful drain on +her resources, but anything, Rosie told herself, to keep him out of the +clutches of the Slattery gang!</p> + +<p>By the third day his back was dry and peeling. After dinner, as Rosie +was coming home from the grocery, she found him at the front gate +boasting about it to Joe Slattery.</p> + +<p>Rosie interrupted politely: "Jackie, will you come into the house a +minute? I got something to ask you."</p> + +<p>Jack looked at her kindly. "All right, Rosie. You go on in and I'll be +in in a minute."</p> + +<p>The dismissal was so friendly that Rosie could not gainsay it. She +hurried around to the back door and then rushed through the house to the +front door, which she slipped open wide enough to see and to hear what +was going on at the gate. Joe Slattery's voice carried distinctly.</p> + +<p>"Say, Jack, what do you say to goin' down now? Aw, come on! Let's."</p> + +<p>Rosie did not have to ask herself what Joe Slattery was proposing; she +knew only too well. Breathless, she awaited Jack's answer. It came with +scarcely an instant's hesitation.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>"All right. Let's."</p> + +<p>Jack was out of the gate and off before Rosie could push open the front +door.</p> + +<p>"Jackie! Jackie! Where you going? Wait for Rosie!"</p> + +<p>"Me and Joe got to go down and see a fella. We'll be back soon, won't +we, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Sure we will, Rosie. We'll be back in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>Rosie shook her head reproachfully. "Jackie, Jackie, you're telling +Rosie a story, you know you are! You're going swimming and you promised +me you wouldn't! Oh, Jackie, how can you, after the nickel I gave you +this morning, and the seven cents yesterday, and the nickel the day +before, and the nickel of the first day you went with Joe? Oh, Jackie, +how can you take poor Rosie's money and then act that way?"</p> + +<p>Jack had nothing to say, but Joe Slattery was able to answer for him.</p> + +<p>"Aw, go on, Rosie O'Brien—Jack's goin' in swimmin' if he wants to! I +guess you ain't his boss! Come on, Jack!"</p> + +<p>Joe threw his arm about Jack's shoulder and together they marched off.</p> + +<p>Rosie put forth one last effort: "Jackie O'Brien, you listen here: If +you go swimming with Joe Slattery, I——" She searched about frantically +for some threat sufficiently terrifying. She paused a moment, then hit +upon something which, a few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> months earlier, would have worked like +magic. "If you do, <em>I'll never button your shoes again! Never again!</em>"</p> + +<p>Jack glanced back insolently over Joe's shoulder. "Aw, go on! What do I +care? Anyway, it's summer-time and I'm goin' barefoot!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +<a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER VIII</span><br /> +<br /> +A LITTLE MOTHER HEN</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">For</span> Rosie this was the end. This was defeat and she accepted it as such. +Slowly and tearfully she dragged herself into the house.</p> + +<p>"Ma, Ma, after all I've done, there he's gone!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked up in concern. "Who did you say was gone, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"Jackie! He's gone off swimming again with that old Joe Slattery!"</p> + +<p>"Is that all it is, Rosie?" Mrs. O'Brien seemed much relieved. "You gave +me quite a turn."</p> + +<p>"But, Ma, what am I going to do?"</p> + +<p>"Well, Rosie dear, what do you want to do?"</p> + +<p>"I want to save Jackie from those old Slatterys."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien sighed sympathetically. "Ah, I'm afeared you can't do that, +Rosie. Jack's a b'y and you know how it is: b'ys do like to run around +with other b'ys."</p> + +<p>"But what if he gets all sunburnt again and maybe drownd-ed?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, now, but maybe he won't."</p> + +<p>There were times when, to Rosie, her mother's easy-going optimism was +maddening. Today it seemed to her the very sort of thing you might +expect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> to find in a hot, untidy kitchen cluttered up with +clothes-horses and steaming with fresh ironing. The rickety old +baby-carriage, draped in mosquito-netting, stood near the ironing board, +and Mrs. O'Brien, as she changed irons, would give it a push or two. +Geraldine was whimpering miserably, and little wonder, Rosie felt.</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien, on the other hand, seemed surprised and grieved that she +was not cooing herself comfortably to sleep. "Ah, now, baby, what can be +ailin' ye? Can't you see your poor ma is working herself to death to get +your nice clean clothes all ready for you? Now stop your cryin', +darlint, or your poor ma won't be able to iron right, and then what'll +sister Ellen say when she comes in? Ho, ho, Ellen's a Tartar, dear, she +is that! Now you wouldn't want your poor ma to be scolded by Ellen, +would you? Indeed and you wouldn't! So hush now like a good baby, and +don't be always cryin'...."</p> + +<p>Rosie stood it as long as she could, then her heart overflowed in +indignant speech: "Of course she's crying in this horrible hot kitchen! +Why wouldn't she? And they's flies in her mosquito-netting, too!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien paused in her ironing to shake her head in mournful +reproach. "Why, Rosie, how you talk! Where else can I put the poor child +but right here? Upstairs in Ellen's room and in my room it's just like +an oven. Jarge's room, downstairs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> here, is cool enough, but I can't use +that, for Jarge pays good money for it and besides lets Terry sleep with +him. No, no, Rosie, I can't impose on Jarge."</p> + +<p>Rosie's blue eyes snapped. "Well, why can't you put her in the front +room? That's cool."</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie! You know very well why I can't. Ellen won't let me. When a +girl's a young lady like Ellen, she's got to have a place for gintlemin +callers, and how would she feel, she says, if her gintlemin friends was +to smell Geraldine!"</p> + +<p>"Smell Geraldine! Maggie O'Brien, I'd think you'd be ashamed o' +yourself! Geraldine'd be all right if you changed her and washed her +often enough! You can bet nobody ever smelled Jackie! It's just your own +fault about Geraldine, and you know it is!"</p> + +<p>"Rosie dear, why do you be so hard on your poor ma? I'm sure I wash her +whenever I get the chance. I'm always washin' and ironin' somethin'!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. You're always washing and ironing Ellen's things!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie, how you do be talkin'! When a girl's a young lady she's got +to have a good supply of fresh skirts and clean shirt-waists. Men like +to see their stenogs dressed clean and pretty."</p> + +<p>"Aw, what do I care how men like their stenogs? All I want to say is +this: If you got a baby, you ought to wash it!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Rosie dear, but what'd you do if you'd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> been like your poor ma and +had had eight babies? Ah, you don't know how wearyin' it is, Rosie!"</p> + +<p>Rosie rushed out of the kitchen, unable longer to endure the discussion. +But she was back in a few moments, carrying towels and a large white +basin.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie dear, are you really goin' to give poor little Geraldine a +nice——"</p> + +<p>"Maggie O'Brien, if you say a single word to me I won't do a thing!" +Rosie glared at her mother threateningly.</p> + +<p>"Mercy on us, Rosie, how you talk! I won't say a word! I promise you on +me oath I'll be as quiet as a mouse! You won't hear a sound out o' me, +will she, baby darlint? I'll be like the deaf and dumb man at the +Museum. He talks with his fingers, Rosie. You'd die laughin' to see +him...."</p> + +<p>At the cooling touch of water, little Geraldine quieted her whimpering +and began to smile wanly. The sight of her neglected body made Rosie's +anger blaze anew.</p> + +<p>"Maggie O'Brien, I don't believe you've touched this baby for a week! +You ought to be ashamed o' yourself! Just look at how chafed she is, and +her body all over prickly heat, too!... Where's the corn-starch?"</p> + +<p>"Rosie dear, I'm awful sorry, but we're out o' corn-starch. I've been +meanin' this two days to have you get some."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'd like to know what I'm going to put on Geraldine!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>"Couldn't you run over to the grocery now?"</p> + +<p>"No, I can't! It's almost time for my papers. I know what I'll do: I'll +borrow Ellen's talcum."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rosie, Ellen wouldn't like that!"</p> + +<p>"I don't care if she wouldn't! I guess she helps herself to other +people's things. Besides, if she's so particular about her gentlemen +friends, she ought to be glad to have Geraldine all powdered up with +violet talc."</p> + +<p>"Don't tell me, Rosie, that you mean to be puttin' Geraldine in the +front room! Ellen'll be awful mad!"</p> + +<p>"Let her be! When she begins to ramp around, you just <em>sick</em> her on to +me! I'll be ready for her! Besides, I guess Geraldine's got some rights +in this house!"</p> + +<p>On the floor of the front room, between two chairs, Rosie made a cool +little nest, protected with mosquito-netting. The tired baby sighed and +turned and was asleep in two minutes.</p> + +<p>"You poor little thing!" Rosie murmured as she stood a moment looking +down at the dark circles under Geraldine's closed eyes and at the cruel +prickly heat that was creeping up her neck. "You poor little thing!"</p> + +<p>She went back slowly and thoughtfully to the kitchen. Before her mother +she paused a moment, then looked up defiantly. "Ma, has Geraldine a +clean dress to go out this afternoon in the baby-buggy?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>Mrs. O'Brien's face began to beam with delight. "Ah, now, do you mean to +say——"</p> + +<p>Rosie cut her off shortly. "Maggie O'Brien, if you say one word to me +I'll drop the whole thing!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien stopped her ironing to stretch out a timid, conciliatory +hand. "Rosie dear, why do you always be so sharp to your poor ma? I +won't say a word, I promise I won't. Geraldine's things is at the bottom +of the basket, and the moment I finish this waist of Ellen's I'll get at +them."</p> + +<p>Rosie felt a sudden pang of shame, but a foolish little pride made her +keep on scolding.</p> + +<p>"Well, I got my papers to attend to now, but see that you have those +things ready by the time I get back."</p> + +<p>"Indeed and I will!" Mrs. O'Brien declared with head-shaken emphasis.</p> + +<p>All afternoon on her paper route Rosie thought of poor, neglected little +Geraldine with her chafed body and sad, tired eyes. It wasn't her fault, +poor baby, that she had come eighth in a family when every one was too +busy and hard-worked to pay attention to her.... But it was a +shame—that's what it was! I just tell you when there's a baby around, +some one ought to take proper care of it!... Rosie wanted dreadfully to +fasten blame somewhere, and the person naturally responsible would seem +to be her mother.</p> + +<p>For some reason, though, she couldn't work up much of a case against +Mrs. O'Brien. That poor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> soul had enough to do, and more than enough, +without ever touching Geraldine. She was not, it is true, the best +manager in the world, and she was dreadfully helpless in the hands of +unscrupulous people like, say, her own daughter Ellen; but when all was +said and done, she was fearfully hard driven, early and late, and never +a day off. And yet how cheerful and uncomplaining she was! How loving +and kind, too, never remembering the cross words you gave her nor the +short, ill-natured answers. No matter how you had been acting, she would +call you "dear" again, the moment you let her....</p> + +<p>Moreover, even if she did not wash Geraldine as often as she should, +Heaven knows it was not to save herself. Maggie O'Brien would have gone +through fire and flood for the benefit of any of her children, living or +dead, and Rosie knew this. No, no. The things slighted were not slighted +because she was lazy and selfish, but because there were not hours in +the day for her one pair of hands, willing but not very skilled, to do +all there was to do in the crowded little household.</p> + +<p>But if it was once granted that her mother was unable to give Geraldine +proper care, was the child, Rosie asked herself, never to receive such +care? In her heart Rosie knew the one way possible and at last forced +herself to consider it. Could she take this baby and raise it as she had +Jackie?... To have Geraldine for a morning or an afternoon would be a +pleasure; but all day and every day—that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> was another matter. Rosie +knew how time-consuming it was to be a mother. She knew what it meant to +look after a baby's food and its naps and its baths and its clothes. And +such things were worse now than in Jackie's time. It would never do to +raise another baby in the haphazard fashion Jackie had been raised. The +care of babies was an exact science now. Out of curiosity Rosie and +Janet had once attended a few meetings of the Little Mothers' Class at +the Settlement, so Rosie knew. She sighed. Among other things, she +supposed she would have to become a regular member of that class.... +Dear, dear, what time would be left for all those lovely vacation +picnics which she had been planning for herself and Janet and Jackie?... +Jackie!... She had forgotten: <em>there wasn't any Jackie now</em>.</p> + +<p>Rosie stopped, expecting again to be swallowed up in that ancient grief. +But it scarcely touched her. Instead, she found herself looking at +Jackie with the critical eyes of an outsider. He was pretty big. Perhaps +he did not need her any longer. George Riley and Danny Agin and Janet +McFadden and Terry and her mother—hadn't each of them said the same +thing? Rosie had wanted to make herself believe that they were all in +league against her, but deep down in her heart she knew they were not +and had always known it. Now at last she was ready to confess the truth: +Jack did not need her any longer.... And poor little Geraldine did.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>Of course, though, she would never love Geraldine. All the love in her +heart she had poured out upon Jackie, and there simply wasn't any left. +How could there be? It was merely that, in any case, she must fill up +the barren days remaining with something. Why not with Geraldine?</p> + +<p>It would, however, be rather pleasant to see Geraldine grow plump and +happy under her wise care. Ever since hot weather the poor birdie had +not had half enough sleep. Rosie would not be long in remedying that. +And it would surprise her much if she did not have the little chafed +body well within a week....</p> + +<p>When you take a baby to raise, it's a satisfaction to get a pretty one. +Geraldine promised to be very pretty. Her hair was growing out in loose +little ringlets like Rosie's own, and her eyes, too, were like Rosie's, +only bluer. Perhaps, when Rosie fattened her, she would have a dimple. +Rosie herself had a lovely dimple that was much admired. Let's see: was +it in the right cheek or the left? Rosie made sure by smiling and +feeling for it. Yes, she really hoped that Geraldine would develop a +dimple. Was there anything on earth sweeter than a dimpled baby?... The +baby-buggy was a rickety old affair that had done service for Jackie and +for little Tim that was gone. Rosie did wish they could afford a nice +new up-to-date go-cart. No matter, though. Having any sort of thing to +push about, would give her and Janet all the excuse they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> needed to +promenade for hours up and down Boulevard Place.</p> + +<p>Not that Rosie was looking forward with any pleasure to her new +undertaking. Heavens, no! She shook her head emphatically. Henceforth it +was duty, not pleasure, to which she would devote her life. You know how +it is in this world: though our hearts, alas, are breaking, we must all +do our duty.</p> + +<p>She found Geraldine refreshed and happy after her long nap. She dressed +her carefully in the clean clothes that were waiting and settled her +comfortably in the old carriage. Then, when they were ready to start, +she turned to her mother.</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you something, Ma: I'm going to take care of Geraldine +this summer. Then maybe you won't have to work so hard."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien laughed and cried and hugged Rosie to her bosom.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you darlint, you darlint! What's this ye're tellin' me!... Ah, +Rosie, if I do say it, ye're the best child that ever stood in shoes! +Geraldine darlint, do ye hear what sister Rosie says?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien paused a moment, then spoke more quietly: "And, Rosie dear, +I've been sorry about this Jackie business—I have that. It's a turrible +thing when a little mother hen has only one chick, to have that chick +turn out a goslin'! But take me word for it, Rosie, Geraldine'll niver +disapp'int ye so. Ye'll niver take to water, will ye, baby dear?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>Rosie choked a little. "I—I guess we better be going. We got to stop +for Janet."</p> + +<p>They started off, and Mrs. O'Brien, in a fresh ecstasy of delight, +called after them: "Ah, look at the blissed infant, as happy as a lamb +with two mothers!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +<a name="IX" id="IX"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER IX</span><br /> +<br /> +JANET'S AUNT KITTY</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Janet McFadden</span>, after one searching look in Rosie's face, rushed forward +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad to see you! Where have you been all this time?"</p> + +<p>Rosie dimpled with pleasure. Wasn't it sweet of Janet not to refer to +the coldness of their last meeting? That was Janet right straight +through: always ready to be insulted on the first provocation, but just +as ready, once she knew you still loved her, to let bygones be bygones.</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, Janet, Jackie's been sick. No, not really sick, but +sore. His back was all sunburnt. He'd been in swimming for the first +time. You know boys always go in swimming and get sunburnt the first +day. But he's all right now and I don't have to bother about him any +more."</p> + +<p>Janet blinked in surprise and started to say something when the +expression on Rosie's face checked her. She paused, then exclaimed, +rather fatuously: "How sweet Geraldine looks!"</p> + +<p>"Doesn't she!" Rosie spoke enthusiastically. "Say, Janet, don't you +think she's a nice baby?"</p> + +<p>"I do indeed!" Janet wagged her head impressively.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> "You know yourself I +always did think she was a nice baby and I never could make out why you +didn't like her more."</p> + +<p>"Janet McFadden, how you talk! Of course I like Geraldine! I love her!" +Rosie bounced the baby-carriage vigorously and made direct appeal to +Geraldine herself: "Doesn't sister Rosie love her own baby? Of course +she does! And she's going to take care of her all summer, isn't she? +because ma's too busy."</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie!" Janet began.</p> + +<p>Rosie faced square about and with one look challenged Janet to show +further surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why—why, isn't that nice!" Janet murmured meekly.</p> + +<p>"Of course it's nice and we're going to Boulevard Place every afternoon, +aren't we, Geraldine? We're going there now and Janet can come with us +if she wants to."</p> + +<p>Janet wanted to, but she had to refuse. "I can't today, Rosie. I've got +to help my mother. But tomorrow afternoon—will you stop for me then? +I'll expect you."</p> + +<p>In this way friendship was restored. Not having to bear the strain of an +insistent questioning from Janet, its restoration was simple. Something +had occurred to change Rosie's attitude in regard to her small brother +and sister and upon this something she was not disposed, evidently, to +be communicative. Well, Janet was not inquisitive. Besides, even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> if +this subject of conversation was taboo, conversation was not in any +danger of early extinction. When together, Janet and Rosie always +talked—not perfunctorily, either, but with much emphasis and many +headshakings. Goodness me, they never stopped talking! After only a few +hours' separation, each had a hundred things to tell the other. By the +very next day Janet had a bit of news, that was to furnish them an +exciting topic for weeks to come.</p> + +<p>When Rosie called for Janet the following afternoon, her knock was +answered by Tom Sullivan, who instantly blushed a glowing crimson and +with difficulty stammered: "Yes, Janet's home. Come on in."</p> + +<p>Rosie found Janet and her mother entertaining Mrs. Sullivan, who was +Dave McFadden's sister and therefore Janet's aunt.</p> + +<p>At sight of Rosie, Mrs. Sullivan exclaimed gushingly: "If there ain't +Rosie O'Brien! You sweet thing! Come right here and kiss me!"</p> + +<p>Rosie had to submit to the caress although she knew it was intended as a +slight to Janet. That was one of Aunt Kitty Sullivan's little ways. Aunt +Kitty was a fat, smiling, middle-aged woman who was going through life +under the delusion that her face still retained the empty prettiness of +its youth.</p> + +<p>"I was just a-saying to Janet," Aunt Kitty began, "that she ought to be +making herself more attractive. As long as she goes about looking like +a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> scarecrow, she never will have a beau! Ain't that right, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Aunt Kitty smiled upon Rosie that meaning smile with which one conscious +beauty appeals to another. Rosie did not respond to it. From the bottom +of her heart she despised Aunt Kitty for the persistence with which she +tormented Janet. When Rosie came in her tirade must have been going on +for some time, for Janet looked tense and angry and her mother badly +flustered.</p> + +<p>Mrs. McFadden, hard-worked and worn and shabby, could not openly resent +her sister-in-law's little pleasantries, for Kitty Sullivan was the +prosperous member of the family. The chance that had given her a sober, +frugal, industrious husband had also given her a certain moral +superiority over all women whose husbands were not sober or frugal or +industrious. Mrs. McFadden did not question this superiority; she +accepted it humbly. Far be it from her, poor drudge that she was, to +dispute the words of a woman who could afford good clothes and a weekly +ticket to the matinée. So all she said now in Janet's defence was:</p> + +<p>"Kitty, I wish you wouldn't be putting such notions into Janet's head. +She's too young to have beaux."</p> + +<p>"Too young!" scoffed Mrs. Sullivan. "I guess I begun havin' beaux when I +was a good deal younger than Janet is now! Why, nowadays a girl can't +begin too young havin' beaux, or the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> thing she knows she's an old +maid! Ain't that right, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie turned her head away, mumbling some unintelligible answer. Tom, +blushing until his freckles were all hidden, came to her rescue.</p> + +<p>"Aw, now, Ma, why can't you let up on Janet? She ain't done nuthin' to +you!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sullivan looked at her son reprovingly. "Tom Sullivan, you just +mind your own business! What I'm saying is for Janet's own good. And I +must say, Mary McFadden, it's your fault, too. You ought to be dressing +Janet better now that she's getting big."</p> + +<p>Mrs. McFadden sighed apologetically. "I'm sure I dress her as well as I +can, Kitty."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, all I got to say is you must be a mighty poor manager, with +Dave making good money and you yourself working every day!" As she +finished, Mrs. Sullivan smiled and dimpled with all the malicious +triumph of a precocious child.</p> + +<p>Rosie felt shamed and troubled. To Mrs. Sullivan's taunt there was one +answer that everybody present knew, but that neither Mary McFadden nor +Janet would ever give, and that Rosie, as an outsider, could not give. +But even so, Mrs. Sullivan was not to go unanswered. Tom, blushing with +mortification, jumped to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Ma, you're the limit! You ought to be ashamed o' yourself! Uncle Dave +makes good money, does he? Yes, and he boozes every cent of it, and +Aunt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> Mary here has got to work like a nigger to pay the rent and keep +herself and Janet, and you know it, too."</p> + +<p>"Tom Sullivan, you shut up!" Mrs. Sullivan's voice rose to an angry +scream. "How dare you interrupt me! You deserve a good thrashing, you +do, and you're goin' to get it, too, as soon as your father comes +home!... Dave boozes, does he? Well, all I got to say is this: he never +boozed before he got married, and if he boozes now it's a mighty queer +thing!"</p> + +<p>Rosie stood up to go. "Say, Janet, you promised to come with me this +afternoon. Get your hat."</p> + +<p>"Yes," advised Mrs. Sullivan; "put on that old black sailor hat that +makes you look like a guy. Mary McFadden, if I had a girl I wouldn't let +her out on the street in a hat like that!"</p> + +<p>Rosie and Janet started off and Tom called after them: "Wait a minute! +I'll come, too!"</p> + +<p>"No, you don't!" his mother ordered. "You stay right where you are! You +don't get out o' my sight till I hand you over to your dad!"</p> + +<p>Once safe on the street, Rosie put a sympathetic arm about Janet's +shoulder. "Even if she is your aunt, Janet, I think she's low-down and I +hate her!"</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" Janet tossed her head in fine scorn. "In my opinion she ain't +worth hating! She ain't nuthin'! I consider her beneath my contemp'! The +truth is, Rosie, I don't mind her buzzin' around any more than I do a +fly! She'd die if she didn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> talk; so I say let her talk. If she +couldn't she'd probably do something worse. My mother feels the same +way. We get tired of her sometimes, but we stand her because she's my +dad's own sister.... Of course, though, some of the things she says is +perfectly true. I ain't pretty. You are, Rosie, but I ain't and I know +it, and that's all there is about it."</p> + +<p>Janet spread out her hands in simple candour and glanced at her friend. +Then, involuntarily, she gave a little sigh. It was not a sigh of envy. +She really did accept as a matter of fact that she herself was not +pretty and that Rosie was. Where Rosie was plump and rounded and +graceful, Janet knew that she was flat and long and lanky. Her arms were +long, her fingers were long, her face was long. Her dark hair, too, was +long, but with nothing in texture or colour to recommend it. She wore it +pulled straight from her forehead and hanging behind in two stiff +plaits.</p> + +<p>With her old black hat, her colourless face, her faded clothes, she gave +the impression of a very shabby, serious little person. And she was +both. Rosie, on the other hand, though as poorly dressed, seemed +anything but shabby and serious, for she was all life and colour, like +some little roadside flower, which, in spite of dusty leaves, raises +aloft a bright, fresh bloom.</p> + +<p>Janet might bravely dismiss her aunt with a wave of the hand, but Rosie +insisted upon repeating herself.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>"I don't care what you say, Janet, I think she's low-down the way she +talks to you and your mother! Now Tom's nice. That was fine the way he +spoke up. You don't think his father'll lick him, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Uncle Matt?" Janet laughed. "Nev-er! Uncle Matt's just crazy about Tom. +They're like two kids when they're together. And that reminds me, +Rosie—goodness me, I was forgetting all about it!" Janet paused to give +full flavour to her bit of news. "What Tom came over for this afternoon +was to tell me that Uncle Matt has promised to give him and me tickets +for the Traction Boys' Picnic—you know it's coming in two weeks +now—and Tom says he's going to try to beg another ticket for you!"</p> + +<p>"Is he really, Janet? Now isn't he just too kind!"</p> + +<p>"Kind? I should say he is! He's bashful, of course, and people laugh at +him because he's got red hair, but he's just as generous as he can be. +You remember last year I went with him, too. Why, do you know, last year +his father had six customers who bought their tickets and then turned +right around and said: 'But we can't go, so you just give these tickets +to some one who can.' Uncle Matt had enough tickets for the whole family +and two more besides. He sold those two and give us all ice-cream sodas +on them."</p> + +<p>"Did he really, Janet! That just proves what I always say: in some ways +I'd much rather have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> my father be a conductor than a motorman. A +motorman never gets a chance at a ticket. I'm glad Jarge Riley's a +conductor. I bet he sells a good many, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course he will, Rosie! I hadn't thought of Jarge. If a customer +gives Jarge back a ticket, of course he'll pass it on to you—I know he +will. Gee, Rosie, you're lucky to have a fella like Jarge Riley boarding +with you. He sure is a dandy."</p> + +<p>To this last Rosie agreed readily enough but on the priority of her +claim to any tickets she set Janet right. "If he gets only a couple, +he'll give Ellen first chance."</p> + +<p>Janet sighed. "Say, Rosie, is he still dead gone on Ellen?"</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed, too, and nodded. "Ain't it funny with a fella that's got +so much sense about other things?"</p> + +<p>Janet sighed again. "I don't like to say anything against Ellen, because +she's your sister, but, as you say yourself, it certainly is funny."</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +<a name="X" id="X"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER X</span><br /> +<br /> +ROSIE RECEIVES AN INVITATION</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Rosie</span> did not see George that night, but she brought up the subject next +day at dinner. It was Sunday, so the whole family was assembled.</p> + +<p>"Are you selling many tickets, Jarge?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a good many, and one of my customers give me back two."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jarge, did he really? What are you going to do with them?"</p> + +<p>George glanced timidly in the direction of Ellen. It was plain at once +what he wanted to do with them. It was also plain that Ellen was not +going to give him much encouragement. To get the support of the family, +George made his invitation public. "I was hoping that Ellen would like +to go with me."</p> + +<p>Ellen glanced up languidly. "Thanks, Mr. Riley, but I don't see how I +can."</p> + +<p>George, swallowing hard, forced out the question: "Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if you insist on knowing, it's this: I don't care to make a guy +o' myself going out with a fella that don't come up much above my +shoulder."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien threw up astonished hands and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> cried out: "Fie on you, +Ellen, fie, for sayin' such a thing!"</p> + +<p>Rosie blazed and spluttered with indignation: "Ellen O'Brien, you ought +to be ashamed o' yourself to talk like that to a nice fella like Jarge +Riley! If you had any sense you'd know that he's worth a whole cart-load +of the dudes that you and Hattie Graydon run after!"</p> + +<p>Rosie got up from her chair and, stepping over to George's place, +slipped her arm about his embarrassed neck. Then she put her cheek +against his. "Don't you care what that old Ellen says, Jarge. You're not +little at all! You're plenty big enough! Besides, little men are much +nicer!"</p> + +<p>Ellen laughed maliciously. "It's a pity George don't ask you."</p> + +<p>The red again surged up George's neck; he gulped; sent one hurt glance +in Ellen's direction, then spoke to Rosie: "Rosie, I've got tickets for +the Traction Boys' Picnic and I'd love like anything to take you. Have +you got anything else on for Friday night next week?"</p> + +<p>"Friday night, did you say, Jarge? Why, for Friday night they ain't +nuthin' 'd suit me better! Thanks ever so much!"</p> + +<p>Rosie, still behind George's chair, shot an annihilating glance at +Ellen. That young woman, a trifle piqued perhaps but still amused, +tossed her head and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Ma, I don't think it's right the way Rosie's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> getting a grown-up fella +and me not even engaged yet! I don't think you ought to allow it!"</p> + +<p>"Ellen, Ellen, your tongue's entirely too long!" Mrs. O'Brien looked at +her reprovingly, but Ellen, in a sudden change of mood, heeded her not. +She was gazing at Rosie with speculative eyes. When she spoke, it was in +a tone from which all banter and ill-humour had vanished.</p> + +<p>"Ma, if Rosie does go with George Riley, there's just one thing: she's +got to have a new dress. The poor kid hasn't a stitch to her back. She +ought to have a little pink dimity. She's just sweet in pink. Lucky, +too, there's a sale on tomorrow at the Big Store. So you needn't say a +word—I'm going to get her something. And I'll trim her a hat, too."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien protested that she hadn't the price of a ten-cent hat, let +alone a dress, but Ellen, as usual, was firm, and Rosie knew that she +was now destined to go to the picnic prettily costumed. Rosie would have +liked to nurse a while longer her indignation against Ellen but, as +Ellen was the only person in the house who knew how to trim a hat out of +little or nothing and how to whip together a pretty little dress, Rosie +was forced to change her manner of open hostility to one of a more +friendly reserve.</p> + +<p>On the whole Rosie was jubilant. "I'm sure I don't know why it is," she +said to Janet McFadden, "but people are pretty nice to me, aren't they?"</p> + +<p>"Nice?" echoed Janet with long-drawn emphasis.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> "Well, I should think +they are!... Say, Rosie, listen:"—Janet paused a moment—"do you think +Tom and me and you and Jarge could all go together? Do you think Jarge'd +mind?"</p> + +<p>Rosie considered the request carefully before answering. Then she spoke +as kindly as she could: "I'm sure I don't know, Janet. Perhaps he'd like +it all right, but, then again, perhaps he wouldn't. Don't you know, men +are so queer nowadays. Anyway, though, I tell you what: I'll ask him."</p> + +<p>"Will you, Rosie?" Janet's gratitude was almost pathetic.</p> + +<p>Later, in presenting the case to George himself, Rosie's manner lost its +air of Lady Bountiful, and she pleaded Janet's cause with an earnestness +for which Janet would have worshipped her.</p> + +<p>"Aw, now, Jarge, please! Poor Janet won't be in our way and she would +love to be with us. Tom Sullivan don't talk much and he's got red hair, +but he's awful nice, really he is. I told you he was trying to get me a +ticket before you invited me. And besides, Jarge, if we get tired of +them we can give them the slip for a little while."</p> + +<p>As soon as Rosie paused for breath, George said: "Of course we'll let +Janet and Tom Sullivan come with us if you want them. This is to be your +party and you're to have things your own way."</p> + +<p>Rosie looked her adoration. "Oh, Jarge, you're just too kind to me, +really you are!"</p> + +<p>The new dress was a great success. It was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> little rosebud dimity, pink +and pale green, which Ellen designed in pretty summer fashion to make +the most of Rosie's well-turned little arms and graceful neck. On a +ten-cent bargain counter Ellen had found a hat of yellow straw which was +just the thing to shape into a little bonnet and trim with a wreath of +pink rosebuds and two soft green streamers which hung down on either +side.</p> + +<p>Ellen planned and worked and was happier than Rosie herself over each +new effect. Mrs. O'Brien, hovering about, beamed with approval.</p> + +<p>"Ellen's an artist with her needle," she declared over and over again. +"She is indeed. How she does remind me of me own poor dead sister +Birdie! There was a milliner in Dublin would have give her two eyes to +get Birdie into her shop."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien was right. Ellen was an artist with her needle and took all +an artist's joy in her own creation. As she worked on Rosie's costume, +she showed none of that impatient, overbearing selfishness which marked +her so disagreeably at other times, but was gentle, frank, and +affectionate. Once when she pricked Rosie's shoulders by accident she +kissed the hurt away, and Rosie, surprised and touched, threw her arms +impulsively about her neck.</p> + +<p>"Why can't you always be like this to me, Ellen? I'd just love you +dearly if you were."</p> + +<p>Ellen laughed a little shamefacedly. "Ain't I nice all the time, Rosie? +Well, I'm afraid it's that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> old business college. It gets on my nerves. +I suppose I ought to be studying now, but I'm not going to. I'm not +going to stop until I finish this for you."</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of the picnic, Ellen was so proud of Rosie's appearance +that for once she forgot her haughtiness to George Riley. "Now tell the +truth, George, aren't you glad it's Rosie instead of me?"</p> + +<p>George gave Ellen one sick look, gulped, then said bravely: "Rosie sure +is mighty pretty!"</p> + +<p>"Pretty? I should say she is! See her now. Don't she look like a little +flower—a sweet-pea or something? And do you know, George, if I was to +dress that way, with my size and my height, I'd look like a guy! Yes, I +would."</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +<a name="XI" id="XI"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XI</span><br /> +<br /> +THE TRACTION BOYS' PICNIC</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">They</span> started off in time to make the half-past-five boat. George was at +his dressiest, so close-shaven that he looked almost skinned and +resplendent in new tan shoes, green socks, a red tie, and a pink shirt. +It was a striking combination of colour and one that made Ellen clutch +at her mother in despair. George carried a shoe-box of sandwiches, for +Rosie, always a thrifty little housewife, insisted that whatever money +they had to spend was not going for the commonplace necessaries of life.</p> + +<p>Janet McFadden and Tom Sullivan, with a similar shoe-box, were waiting +for them at the corner. Janet, in her old black sailor hat, looked +dreadfully neat and clean, but for some reason even dingier than usual. +It was Janet's first view of Rosie's finery. Shaking her head slowly, +she gazed at Rosie several moments before she spoke. Then she said:</p> + +<p>"Well, Rosie O'Brien, I must say you certainly do look elegant!"</p> + +<p>Tom Sullivan was so flustered by the close vision of Rosie's loveliness +that, when he opened his mouth to say something, he could only splutter +unintelligibly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> and then blush furiously at his own embarrassment.</p> + +<p>It is surprising, when one stops to think about it, how delightful a +mere street-car ride downtown really is. As Rosie sat there with her +plain but faithful friend on one side—hereafter she must always try to +be especially kind and gentle to Janet—and on the other her sporty, +grown-up escort, she had one of those rare moments of perfect content +and happiness. Old gentlemen smiled at her absent-mindedly as she +brushed aside the green streamers which the wind was forever blowing +across her face; young girls examined her critically; a mother across +the way distracted the attention of a weeping child by pointing her +finger and saying: "Oh, Eddy, look over there at that pretty little +girl! She's lookin' straight at you, and what'll she say if she sees you +cryin'!"... It was really a lovely, lovely world, and Rosie honestly and +truly hoped that everybody in it was happy.</p> + +<p>They reached the boat at that delightful moment when the bell is ringing +and the deckhands are threatening to pull in the gang-plank in spite of +the rushing crowds still arriving. By the time they had pushed their way +to the upper deck, the gang-plank was in, the band was striking up a gay +march, and with a lurch and a turn the <em>Island Princess</em> was off.</p> + +<p>"O-oh!" murmured Rosie happily, and Janet demanded tensely, of no one in +particular: "Isn't this just grand!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>Mothers and wives bustled about to get folding chairs and campstools, +but the young folk, scorning so soon to sit down, promenaded arm in arm. +Tucking Rosie's hand under his elbow, George joined the ranks of the +promenaders, and Janet and Tom Sullivan followed his lead at a +respectful distance.</p> + +<p>At the stern, seated off by themselves, was a group of picnickers who +hailed George as an old friend and waved at him inviting arms and +handkerchiefs.</p> + +<p>"Let's go over and say 'Howdy,'" George suggested.</p> + +<p>There were some ten of them, girls and young fellows about George's own +age. George took off his hat to them all and, with a flourish, presented +Rosie.</p> + +<p>"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you my lady friend, Miss +Rosie O'Brien. Rosie, won't you shake hands with my friend, Mr. +Callahan, and Miss Higgins, and Miss McCarthy, and Miss Mahony, ..."</p> + +<p>Rosie, feeling eighteen years old and perfectly beautiful, went the +rounds to an enchanting chorus of, "Pleased to know you, Miss O'Brien," +"You sweet little thing!" "Excuse me, Miss Rosie, but I must say George +Riley knows how to pick out a pretty girl!..."</p> + +<p>George then presented Janet, and Janet, too, went the rounds, looking +like a sleep-walker with tight-set muscles and staring eyes.</p> + +<p>"And this," concluded George, giving Tom Sullivan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> a little push, "is +Matt Sullivan's boy. You fellows all know Matt—he's on the East End +run."</p> + +<p>With blinking eyes and a crimson embarrassment that mounted to ears and +scalp, Tom passed about a nerveless, sodden hand.</p> + +<p>After a few more pleasantries, George, gathering together his forces, +flourished his hat and said: "Well, so long, friends! See you later."</p> + +<p>"Weren't they nice!" Rosie remarked enthusiastically, and Janet, in +humble gratitude, said: "That was awful kind of you, Mr. Riley, +introducing Tom and me."</p> + +<p>"Kind nuthin'!" George declared. "Aren't you my friends, I'd like to +know? Aren't all Rosie's friends my friends?"</p> + +<p>Unable to express in words how deeply moved she was by the loftiness and +nobility of this sentiment, Janet could only look at Rosie, sigh +gloomily, and shake her head.</p> + +<p>They ate their little picnic supper as soon as they landed, topped off +with ice-cream, and then, unencumbered with shoe-boxes, sought out the +allurements of sideshows, aërial and subterranean thrillers, and dancing +pavilion. Rosie insisted that they go into nothing that cost over ten +cents. By adopting this principle and making frequent excursions to the +dancing pavilion, which was free, they were so well able to husband +their resources that George's two dollars and Tom Sullivan's fifty cents +carried them through the evening.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>It seemed to Rosie she had never enjoyed so perfect a picnic. All the +thrillers really thrilled. Capitana, the giantess snake-charmer, was +actually a giantess, and the snakes she wound about her fat neck were +fully as long and as spotted and as green as the posters made out. And +so on through everything they tried.</p> + +<p>"I've never had such a good time in my life!" Rosie declared, as they +hurried off to the ten-o'clock boat.</p> + +<p>"Me, too!" gasped Janet in solemn, sepulchral tones.</p> + +<p>Looking at the strained expression of happiness on Janet's face, Rosie +suddenly thought of something new that would fittingly crown the day's +adventures. Out of her own abundance she would give Janet another crumb +that would make her eternally grateful.</p> + +<p>"Say, Jarge," she whispered coaxingly, "will you do something for me?"</p> + +<p>George looked down at her indulgently. "Of course I will. Anything you +want."</p> + +<p>"Well then, listen, Jarge: Will you take Janet all the way home and be +real nice to her and pretend she's your girl and pet her real, real +hard. Nobody ever pets Janet, and she never has a good time except when +she's with me. And I'll take Tom Sullivan."</p> + +<p>George laughed a good-natured "All right," and Rosie, turning around, +said to Janet: "Jarge don't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> want me any more, do you, Jarge? He wants +you, Janet, don't you, Jarge, want Janet? So will you let Tom Sullivan +take me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rosie!" Janet threw incredulous eyes to heaven and clutched her +hands together in a joy that was serious as grief.</p> + +<p>Rosie pushed her up to George and George, capturing her cold fingers, +drew them through his arm. Then Rosie, glowing all over in virtuous +self-approval, dropped behind with Tom Sullivan.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +<a name="XII" id="XII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XII</span><br /> +<br /> +THE LOAN OF A GENTLEMAN FRIEND</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">The</span> wives and mothers, with sleepy, crying children, cluttered up the +lower decks. The young people by some common instinct seemed all to be +drawn to the quiet and moonlight of the upper deck. There Rosie's party +found them, a thousand couples more or less, each couple sitting +somewhat apart from its neighbours, but frightfully close to itself.</p> + +<p>"I suppose they're all engaged," Rosie remarked to Tom Sullivan, and +even in the moonlight Tom blushed furiously.</p> + +<p>George and Janet found the unoccupied half of a deck bench, not too far +from the rail, and Rosie and Tom seated themselves on campstools some +distance behind. They were pretty far in on deck and so could see very +little beyond the backs of the great half circle of couples. But backs, +in their way, are very expressive, and Rosie soon found herself deeply +interested in the romances of which these various backs were soon giving +most unmistakable hints. Every couple that sat down seemed to go through +precisely the same emotional experience. A properly equipped +statistician could soon have reduced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> the whole thing to a matter of +minutes and seconds.</p> + +<p>Take what would be an average couple: They seat themselves like ordinary +people in their right minds and, for a moment, that is what you suppose +they really are. But only for a moment. Although they may be the only +couple on the bench, almost immediately you see them crowding against +each other as if to make room for a fat lady with a baby. Then to get +more room the man drops his arm—the arm next the girl—over the back of +the bench, where it lies a few moments lifeless and inert. The position +is uncomfortable, evidently, for soon he tries to bring it back. Too +late. The invisible fat lady with the baby has, in the meantime, wedged +the girl right under the man's shoulder, and his arm and hand, in +circling back, circle naturally about her. She, poor little soul, seems +not to know what has happened. Her tired head sinks like a weary +bird—sinks on his breast. She sleeps. At any rate, she looks like it. +Then she wakes. She wakes gradually. Her profile slowly rises and, as it +rises, lo! his descends until—until—Well, you know what always occurs +when his profile meets her profile full-face.</p> + +<p>Every time they saw it happen, Rosie held her breath for a moment, then +murmured: "They must be engaged, too!"</p> + +<p>Tom Sullivan stood it as long as he could, then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> burst out: "Aw, go on! +You don't have to be engaged to kiss!"</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at him, scandalized and shocked. "Why, Tom Sullivan, how +you talk! You ought to be ashamed o' yourself!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you don't!" Tom insisted doggedly.</p> + +<p>Rosie, drawing herself away from a person of such free-and-easy morals, +returned to the backs of the last couple to see whether their little +drama had completed itself. As she looked, the final act opened. The man +whispered something—from what happened when all the other men had +whispered something, Rosie decided he must be asking the girl if she +were chilly. She, like all others before her, presumably was, for the +man took off half his coat, the half near her, and drew it around her +shoulders. What became of his shirt-sleeved arm, or what, in fact, +thereafter became of the rest of both of them, no mere onlooker could +ever know. The half-coat, raising high its collar, served as an +effectual screen against the gaze of a curious world, and the only thing +left for a student of human nature was to hunt a new couple.</p> + +<p>One of the marvels of a picnic boat is that there are always new +couples. Rosie found one immediately and was already engrossed in it +when Tom Sullivan, clutching her excitedly, cried out:</p> + +<p>"Look! Look! Didn't I tell you!"</p> + +<p>Rosie looked, and what she saw seemed for a moment to make her heart +stop. George Riley and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> Janet McFadden—think of it! How long the +exhibit had been going on Rosie knew not, but Tom Sullivan had +discovered them just as Janet's profile was rising and George's +descending. In another instant——</p> + +<p>"There!" shouted Tom Sullivan in triumph. "Didn't I tell you so! Now you +can't say they're engaged!"</p> + +<p>Rosie stood up hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"This is a perfectly horrid boat and I wish I could get off! And I tell +you one thing, Tom Sullivan: I'm going downstairs. I won't stay up here +any longer. It's disgraceful, that's what it is!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, don't go down!" Tom begged. "It's fun up here."</p> + +<p>But Rosie was already started and Tom had to follow.</p> + +<p>"Say, Rosie," he chuckled confidentially over her shoulder as she +climbed down to the next deck, "did you see old Janet? Gee! I bet it was +the first time a fella ever kissed her!"</p> + +<p>Had Rosie seen old Janet? Yes, Rosie had, and the mere thought of the +perfidious creature sent Rosie hot and cold by turns. Oh, to think of +it! After all she had done for Janet out of the innocent kindness of her +heart, to have Janet face about and treat her so! Why, she was nothing +but a thief, a brazen thief!...</p> + +<p>It was true that, in a sense, George did not belong to Rosie: he +belonged to Ellen O'Brien if Ellen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> would once make up her mind to +possess him; but as between Rosie and Janet he certainly belonged to +Rosie. And Janet knew it, too! And he knew it! Oh, what a weak character +his was, thus to be tempted by the first fair face! Fair face, indeed! +The first ugly face! Yes, ugly! Not even her own mother could call Janet +anything else!</p> + +<p>Rosie found uncomfortable places for herself and Tom among the wives and +mothers who, heavy-eyed and dishevelled, were waiting impatiently to +land. Shining over them was no glamour of moonlight. They were plain, +homely, hard-worked women—exactly what Janet McFadden would be some +day, if George Riley had but sense enough to know it. Rosie picked out +the homeliest of them all and wished she had George down beside her so +that she could say to him:</p> + +<p>"Do you see that woman? Well, that's what your dear Janet's going to +look like when she grows up!"</p> + +<p>Rosie had a mental picture of herself at that same future period, with +golden hair and lovely clothes and heaps and heaps of beautiful jewels. +If she could only give George a glimpse of the great contrast which in a +few years there would be between her and Janet, then he'd feel sorry! +He'd probably get down on his knees and beg her pardon and she, flipping +back some expensive lace from her wrist, would smile at him kindly and +drawl out:</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Riley. I never think<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> of you any more. You +know how it is when a person has so many wealthy friends. I'm sorry, but +I got to go now, for my automobile is waiting. Good-bye...."</p> + +<p>But meanwhile the moonlight was still shining on the upper deck and +Rosie felt perfectly sure that, by this time, Janet was tucked away in +George's coat. Rosie stood the suspense as long as she could, then +jumped up to investigate.</p> + +<p>"You wait here for me, Tom," she ordered; "I'll be back in just a +minute."</p> + +<p>She hurried off to the upper deck and, of course, found conditions +exactly as she knew they would be. The only thing that showed above +George's coat collar was the tilted edge of Janet's old black sailor +hat. Rosie stepped up quite close to the guilty pair and cleared her +throat, but they heeded her not.</p> + +<p>"All right!" Rosie warned them in her own mind. "Just keep on and you'll +both be sorry some day!"</p> + +<p>Then she told herself for the fiftieth time what a fool she had been, +and she made a mighty vow never again to loan a gentleman friend to any +one whomsoever.</p> + +<p>When she got back to Tom Sullivan, Tom had a bag of peanuts which he +offered her at once. "You like peanuts, don't you, Rosie? It's my last +nickel, except carfare. Aw, go on, take some."</p> + +<p>Not to seem unfriendly, Rosie accepted a handful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> Crunching the shells +between her fingers comforted her a little. It was the sort of treatment +she would like to give some people—at any rate, it was the kind they +deserved. She didn't exactly name the peanuts, but she gave them +initials. To the small ones she gave the initial <em>J</em>, to the large ones +G.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose those two are spoonin' up there yet?" Tom asked finally.</p> + +<p>"What two?"</p> + +<p>"Why, George Riley and Janet." And Tom Sullivan, who was supposed to be +bashful, looked at Rosie with a meaning smile.</p> + +<p>Rosie returned the glance with fire and daggers. "Don't you move your +old chair any closer to me, Tom Sullivan!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, now, Rosie——" Tom began, but Rosie cut him short, for the +landing-bell was sounding and it was time for them to pick up their +disreputable friends.</p> + +<p>George and Janet were all for acting as if nothing unusual had happened, +and Rosie scorned them afresh for the useless hypocrisy.</p> + +<p>The journey home was stupid and unpleasant. The cars were crowded and +people were ill-natured and rude and everything in general was horrid. +The wind kept blowing Rosie's streamers into her eyes until she was +ready to tear them off.... Would they never get home?</p> + +<p>Janet McFadden, her dull black eyes fixed in a dream, heeded nothing. +But at the corner where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> their ways parted Rosie saw to it that she +heard something. When Janet offered farewells, Rosie called out with +unmistakable emphasis:</p> + +<p>"Good-night, <em>Tom!</em> I've had a very pleasant time with <em>you!</em>"</p> + +<p>Like Janet, George Riley seemed to think that everything was as before. +He himself was quiet, with the drowsy languor that follows an evening's +excitement, and he seemed to be attributing Rosie's silence to the same +cause.</p> + +<p>When they got home, Rosie tried to show him his mistake. The gas in the +little hallway was burning low, and George turned it high to light Rosie +upstairs.</p> + +<p>Rosie started off without a word.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to kiss me good-night, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>At that Rosie turned slowly about and gazed down upon him with all the +hauteur of an offended queen. "There's just one thing I want to tell +you, Jarge Riley: because you kiss Janet McFadden, you needn't think you +can kiss <em>any</em> girl!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie!" George began. But Rosie was already gone.</p> + +<div><a name="because" id="because"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 442px;"> +<img src="images/i-004.jpg" width="442" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Because you kiss Janet McFadden, you needn't think you +can kiss any girl."</span> +</div> + + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +<a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XIII</span><br /> +<br /> +JANET EXPLAINS</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">By</span> ten o'clock next morning Janet McFadden was at the door asking for +Rosie. Rosie did not, of course, ever care to see Janet again, but as +she had come Rosie could scarcely deny herself.</p> + +<p>She found her one-time friend looking pinched and +worried—conscience-stricken, no doubt—and little wonder.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to the grocery, Janet. Do you want to come with me?"</p> + +<p>Hardly outside the gate, Janet began: "You're not mad at me, Rosie, are +you?"</p> + +<p>"Mad?" Rosie spoke the word as if it were one with which she was +unfamiliar.</p> + +<p>"I didn't think you'd care, Rosie, honest I didn't. I thought you'd +understand."</p> + +<p>"Understand what?" There was a certain coldness in the tone of Rosie's +inquiry, and Janet, feeling it, seemed ready to wring her hands in +despair.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie, all we talked about was you—honest it was! Jarge said you +were just like his own little sister to him, and I told him I loved you +more than I would my own sister if I had one."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" Rosie grunted, recalling the tilt of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> Janet's black sailor hat +over George's shoulder. It had looked then as if they were talking about +her, hadn't it now?</p> + +<p>"Honest, Rosie!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course. I suppose now you were talking about me when you——" +Rosie pursed her lips and Janet, understanding her meaning, blushed +guiltily.</p> + +<p>"Aw, now, Rosie, listen: all I wanted was to have Tom Sullivan see."</p> + +<p>"Well, he saw all right. So did I. So did everybody. And it was +disgraceful, too!"</p> + +<p>Janet groped helplessly about for words. "I don't exactly mean on +account of Tom himself."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + +<p>"Please, Rosie," Janet begged; "don't talk to me that way.... You know +Tom's mother, my Aunt Kitty. You know the way she makes fun of me +because I'm ugly and lanky. She's always saying that I'm an old maid +already and that I'll never get a boy to look at me. So I just wanted +her to hear about a nice fella like Jarge Riley hugging me and kissing +me."</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at Janet in astonishment. She had certainly expected Janet +to make up a better story than that.</p> + +<p>"Well, I must say, Janet McFadden, this is news to me! Since when have +you got so particular about what your Aunt Kitty thinks or doesn't +think? I always supposed she was beneath your contemp'."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>"No, no, Rosie, it isn't that! I don't care what she thinks or what she +says either, if only she wouldn't go blabbing it around everywhere!" +With a sudden gust of passion, Janet clenched her hands and breathed +hard. "Oh, how I hate her!"</p> + +<p>Rosie had nothing to say and, after a pause, Janet continued more +quietly:</p> + +<p>"It's this way, Rosie: You know my old man. He's all right except +sometimes when he comes home not quite himself. You know what I mean."</p> + +<p>Yes, Rosie knew. In fact, like the rest of the world, she knew a great +deal more than Janet supposed about Dave McFadden's drunken abuse of his +wife and child.</p> + +<p>"He's all right when he's straight, Rosie, honest he is."</p> + +<p>Never before had Janet confessed in words, even to Rosie, that her +father wasn't always sober. It was the fiction of life that she +struggled most valiantly to maintain that this same father was the best +and noblest of his kind. Poor Janet! In spite of herself Rosie +experienced a pang of the old pity which thought of Janet's hard life +always excited. But Janet was not striving to appeal to her thus. Slowly +and painfully she was forcing herself to lay bare the little tragedy +that shadowed her days....</p> + +<p>"When he comes home that way he says awful things to me. He says I got a +face like a horse and arms as long as a monkey's. He'd never think of +things like that if it wasn't for Aunt Kitty. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> know he thinks +everything Aunt Kitty says is wonderful because she's supposed to be the +bright one of the family and used to be pretty. And, Rosie, she ain't +got a bit o' sense. All she can do is make people laugh by making fun of +somebody. She never cares how much she hurts any one's feelings. I—I +know I'm ugly, but—can I help it?..." Janet's face was quivering and +her eyes were swimming in tears. "I don't see why Aunt Kitty's got to +talk about it, do you? Even if I am ugly, I guess—I guess I got +feelings like anybody else.... It's only when dad's full that he starts +in on it and begins to yell around until everybody in the building hears +him. And I know just as well he'd never think of it if only Aunt Kitty +would let up on me a little. So I thought—— Oh, you understand now, +don't you, Rosie? That's the reason I did it, honest it is. You believe +me, Rosie, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Believe her? Who wouldn't believe her? Long before she had finished +speaking, the citadel of Rosie's affections had been stormed and retaken +and Rosie, abject and conquered, was ready to cry for mercy.</p> + +<p>"And when I told Jarge Riley about it," Janet continued, "he was just as +nice. He pretended he wanted to kiss me anyhow, but he didn't, Rosie, +honest he didn't. It was only because I was your friend that he wanted +to be nice to me...."</p> + +<p>Of course, of course. At last Rosie was seeing things as they really +were, and seeing them thus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> made her heartsick when she remembered how +she had spoken to kind old George Riley. How could she ever put herself +right with him?... She would be carrying his supper up to the cars at +six o'clock. There would be only an instant of time, but an instant +would be enough for her to say: "Oh, Jarge, I've just been happy all day +long thinking about the good time you gave me yesterday! Me and Janet +have been talking about it. Thanks, thanks so much!" And George Riley, +if she knew him at all, instead of recalling her foolish words of last +night, would grin all over and gasp out: "Aw, Rosie, that wasn't nuthin' +at all!" That was the sort of fellow George was!...</p> + +<p>"But listen here, Rosie," Janet's voice was continuing in tones of +humble entreaty; "if I'd ha' known it would ha' made you mad, I wouldn't +have asked Jarge Riley—honest I wouldn't. You believe me, don't you, +Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Tears were in Rosie's throat and self-abasement in her heart. Words, +however, came hard. Fortunately she could slip her arm about Janet's +neck in the old sweet, intimate fashion and Janet would understand that +all was well between them.</p> + +<p>"And, Janet dear, are you sure that Tom'll tell his mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm sure, because I made him promise not to."</p> + +<p>"Why, Janet!"</p> + +<p>"Sure, Rosie. You see Aunt Kitty'll ask him all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> about things and he'll +tell about you and how pretty you looked and about Jarge Riley, and then +Aunt Kitty'll begin making fun of me and that'll make Tom mad and he'll +tell Aunt Kitty not to be so sure, and then she'll see he's holding back +something and she'll tease until she gets it out of him.... Oh, Rosie, I +tell you I know her just as well! I can just hear her! And when Tom +tells her how mad you are, that'll make her believe the rest.... But +honestly, Rosie, I didn't know you was mad till Tom told me."</p> + +<p>"Tom!" Rosie was indignant at once. "Do you mean to say Tom Sullivan +told you I was mad? Well, the next time you see Tom Sullivan you tell +him for me to mind his own business!" Rosie paused a moment, then drew +Janet closer to her. "Mad? What's eating Tom Sullivan? Friends like you +and me, Janet, don't get <em>mad</em>!"</p> + +<p>And Janet McFadden, shaking her head in horror that any one should even +suggest such a thing, declared emphatically: "Of course not!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +<a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XIV</span><br /> +<br /> +ON SCARS AND BRUISES</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">A few</span> mornings later Rosie was seated on the front steps, shelling peas, +when Janet passed the gate.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you coming in?" Rosie called out.</p> + +<p>At first Janet was not, but on Rosie's second invitation she changed her +mind. As she reached the steps, Rosie discovered the reason of her +hesitation. She had a black eye. She carried it consciously, but with +such dignity, as it were, that Rosie could not at once decide whether +Janet expected her to speak of it, or to accept it without comment.</p> + +<p>Janet herself, after an introductory remark about the weather, broached +the subject.</p> + +<p>"What do you think about the eye I've got on me? Ain't it a beaut?"</p> + +<p>It certainly was, and Rosie expressed emphatic appreciation.</p> + +<p>"And how do you suppose I got it?" Janet pursued.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't guess if I had to!"</p> + +<p>Rosie's answer was tactful, rather than truthful. In her own mind she +had very little doubt whence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> the black eye had come. But it would never +do to say that she supposed it had been given Janet by her father during +one of the drunken rages to which he was subject. With one's dearest +friend one may be frank almost to brutality, but not on the subject of +that friend's family. There are reserves that even friendship may not +penetrate. So, with an exaggeration of guilelessness, Rosie declared:</p> + +<p>"I couldn't guess if I had to! Honest I couldn't!"</p> + +<p>Janet had her story ready:</p> + +<p>"You know how dark the halls in our building are. Well, I was just going +downstairs, when a boy sneaked up behind me, and pushed me, and I +slipped, and hit my face against the banister. And I think I know who it +was, too!"</p> + +<p>Rosie was by nature too simple and direct to simulate with any great +success the kind of surprise that Janet was forever demanding of her. +Fortunately this time it did not matter, for, while Janet was speaking, +Rosie's mother had appeared with an armful of darning. Unlike Rosie, +Mrs. O'Brien was always in a state of what might be termed chronic +surprise. She paused now before seating herself, to remark in shocked +tones:</p> + +<p>"Why, Janet McFadden, what's this ye're tellin'? Mercy on us, ain't b'ys +just awful sometimes! But I'm thinkin' your da'll soon settle that lad!"</p> + +<p>Janet shook her head violently.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. O'Brien, I wouldn't dare tell my father<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> that boy's name for +anything! My father'd just murder him—honest he would! It just makes my +father crazy when anybody touches me! He ain't responsible, he gets so +mad—really he ain't! So you can see yourself I got to be mighty careful +what I tell him. Besides, I ain't dead sure it was that boy, but I think +it was."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien's interest in the situation equalled Janet's own.</p> + +<p>"I see exactly the place you're in, Janet, and I must say it's wise, the +stand you take."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien bit off a strand of darning cotton, and carefully stiffened +the end.</p> + +<p>"You see," Janet continued, "it's this way with me. I'm an only child, +and you know yourself how men act about their only child."</p> + +<p>"I do, indeed, Janet, and I feel for you." From her sympathetic +understanding of Janet's problem, one would never have supposed that +Mrs. O'Brien herself was the mother of a large family, and had been the +child of a larger one. She held up a sock impressively. "You're quite +right, Janet. Your da might do somethin' awful. There's no holdin' back +some men when they take it into their heads that their only child has +been mistreated."</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed inwardly. She had very little of that histrionic sense that +prompts people to assume a part and play it out in all seriousness. At +first such a performance as the present one wearied her. Why in the +world do people pretend a thing when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> they know perfectly well that they +are pretending? Then, as the moments passed, she grew interested in +spite of herself, for the acting of her mother and Janet was most +convincing. At last she was not quite sure that it was acting. She was +brought back to her senses by Janet's turning suddenly to her with the +exclamation:</p> + +<p>"Ain't they all o' them just awful, anyhow!"</p> + +<p>No need to ask Janet of whom she was speaking. It was an old practice of +hers, this glorifying her father in one breath, and in the next +vilifying men in general. Rosie protested at once:</p> + +<p>"Why are they awful? I think they're nice."</p> + +<p>Janet looked at her in kindly commiseration.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Rosie, all I got to say is—you don't know 'em."</p> + +<p>"I don't know them! Well, I like that!" Rosie was indignant now. "I +guess I know them as well as you do!" Rosie paused, then concluded in +triumph: "Don't I know my own brother Terry? I guess he's all right!"</p> + +<p>"Terry," Janet repeated, with a significant headshake. "Now I suppose, +Rosie, you think you and Terry are great friends, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think so; I know so."</p> + +<p>Janet laughed cynically.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose you and him are great friends as long as you run your +legs off for him. But listen to me, Rosie O'Brien! Do you know what he'd +do to you if you was to lose one of his paper customers?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> He'd beat the +very puddin' out of you! I guess I know!"</p> + +<p>"Janet, you're crazy!"</p> + +<p>"Crazy? All right, Rosie, have it your own way. But I leave it to Mis' +O'Brien if I ain't right."</p> + +<p>That lady, being, as it were, pledged to Janet's support, instead of +vindicating her own son, made the weak admission:</p> + +<p>"Well, I must confess there's somethin' in what Janet says."</p> + +<p>At Janet's departure, Rosie looked at her mother scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Ma, don't you really know how Janet got that black eye?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien dropped her darning in surprise. At every turn life seemed +to hold a fresh surprise for Mrs. O'Brien.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie! What a question to ask your poor ma! Do I look like I was +born yesterday?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien did not; but, even so, Rosie insisted upon a direct answer.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, if you really must know, Rosie dear, I'll be glad to tell +you. That brute of a Dave McFadden has been knockin' her down again."</p> + +<p>Rosie clucked her tongue impatiently. "Maggie O'Brien, there's one thing +I'd like to ask you. When Janet knew how she got that black eye, and you +knew how she got it, and she knew perfectly well that you knew, why in +the world did you both go pretending something else?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>Mrs. O'Brien looked at her daughter in patient despair.</p> + +<p>"My, my, Rosie, what a child ye do be! Wouldn't it be awful of me to go +insultin' poor little Janet by saying: 'Ho, ho, Janet, that's a fine +black eye yir da has given you!'"</p> + +<p>Rosie squirmed in exasperation. "But why do you got to say anything? Why +do either of you got to say anything?"</p> + +<p>"Why do I got to say anything?" In Mrs. O'Brien, surprise had now turned +to amazement. "Why, Rosie dear, what's this ye're askin' me? Haven't I +always got to say somethin'? Wasn't it for talkin' purposes that the +Lord put a tongue in me head?"</p> + +<p>"But couldn't you talk about something else besides that black eye?"</p> + +<p>"I could not. Take me word for it, Rosie, that black eye was the one +thing of all to talk about. Don't you see, dear, 'twas that was taking +up Janet's entire attention, for it was on her mind as well as on her +face. So not to make it awkward for the poor child, I simply had to talk +and let her talk."</p> + +<p>Rosie still shook her head obstinately. "Even if it was on her mind, I +don't see why she had to go make up that silly story that nobody +believes, and that she don't believe herself. She always does."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien's face broke into a smile of understanding.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>"Ah, Rosie, I see now what's troublin' you. You don't see why poor Janet +wants to cover up that brute of a Dave."</p> + +<p>This was exactly what was troubling Rosie, as she agreed readily enough.</p> + +<p>"And, Ma," she continued, "do you suppose if my father beat me, I'd go +around pretending he was the best ever? Well, I wouldn't!"</p> + +<p>"Your poor da, did you say, Rosie? May God forgive you for havin' such a +thought! Why, that poor lamb wouldn't hurt a fly—he's that gentle! Ah, +Rosie, it's on yir knees ye ought to be every night of yir life, +thankin' God for the kind o' father I picked out for you!"</p> + +<p>"I am thankful, but I wouldn't be if he was like Dave McFadden. And I +wouldn't pretend I was, either."</p> + +<p>"Ah, it's little ye know about that, Rosie, for just let me tell +ye—ye'd be exactly like Janet if ye were in Janet's shoes."</p> + +<p>"I bet I wouldn't!"</p> + +<p>"Rosie, ye couldn't help yirself. Ye'd have to stand up for him even if +he was a brute."</p> + +<p>"Why would I have to?"</p> + +<p>"Because he's your da. Is it possible, Rosie dear, that ye don't yet +know 'tis a woman's first duty to stand up for a man if he's her da, or +her brother, or her husband, or her son? Mercy on us, where would we be +if she didn't? Have ye ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> heard me, all the years of your life, +breathe a whisper against Jamie O'Brien?"</p> + +<p>"I should think not!" To Rosie this seemed a very poor example of the +principle in question. "How could you? Dad never even beats the boys, +let alone you and me!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien smacked her lips pensively. "No, he don't beat me." She +sighed slowly. "I mean <em>now</em> he don't."</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at her mother with startled eyes. "Ma, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien sighed again, and took up her darning. "Nuthin' at all, +Rosie. I don't know what I'm sayin'. I can't gab another minute, for I +must finish this sock. So run off, like a good child, and don't bother +me."</p> + +<p>"But, Ma"—Rosie's voice dropped to a whisper, and a look of horror came +into her face—"do you mean he used to—beat you?"</p> + +<p>"Rosie dear, stop pesterin' me with your questions. Far be it from me to +set child against father, and, besides, as you know yourself, he's +behavin' now. What's past is past. I've said this much to you, Rosie, +so's to give you a hint of the ragin' lions that these here quiet, +soft-spoken little lambs of men keep caged up inside o' them. Oh, I tell +you, Rosie dear, beware o' that kind of a man, for you never know when +the lion in him is goin' to break loose and leap out upon you. Ah, I +know what I'm sayin' to me everlastin' sorrow!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>"Why, Ma, are you crazy! Dad has never laid a finger on you, or on any +one else, and you know he hasn't!"</p> + +<p>Rosie scanned her mother's face in hope of discovering a little family +joke, but Mrs. O'Brien met her gaze with sad, truthful eyes as guileless +as a baby's.</p> + +<p>"All right, Rosie dear, maybe your poor ma is crazy. But I wonder now +ye've never noticed the scar on me right shoulder, nor asked the cause +of it."</p> + +<p>"What scar?"</p> + +<p>"Have you never seen it, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien began unbuttoning her waist to exhibit the scarred +shoulder. Then she paused, thought a moment, and changed her mind.</p> + +<p>"No. As ye've never noticed it, Rosie, it wouldn't be right of me to +show it to you now. The sight of it might make you bitter. But you +surprise me that you've never seen it. It's a foot long at least, and +two fingers deep, and itches in rainy weather."</p> + +<p>"Why, Ma!" Rose's eyes were fixed, and her mouth a round, blank question +mark.</p> + +<p>"Upon me word of honour, Rosie!"</p> + +<p>For a moment Rosie was too shocked to go on. Then she gasped: "How—how +did it happen?"</p> + +<p>"How did it happen, do you ask? That, Rosie, is a secret that'll go with +me to the grave. This much I'll tell you—'twas made with a +butcher-knife.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> But who gave the blow, I wouldn't confess under torture. +Now, Rosie dear, don't tempt me to say another word, for I'm done."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien lifted her head high, took a long breath, and began a +serious attack on the sock.</p> + +<p>Rosie questioned further, but in vain.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +<a name="XV" id="XV"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XV</span><br /> +<br /> +THE BRUTE AT BAY</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Her</span> own father!... All afternoon as she went about delivering papers, +Rosie's mind kept going over this amazing revelation. Not for an instant +did she question the truth of it. An exuberance of imagination very +often led her mother to embroider fancifully the details of a story, but +surely not this time. This time that scar, that awful scar, was evidence +enough of what had taken place.</p> + +<p>To think that Rosie had never even suspected that side of her father's +nature! She shuddered at her own innocence. To her, her father had +always seemed all gentleness and meekness. Gentleness and meekness, +indeed! Why, with that raging lion ramping and tearing about inside of +him he was little better than a wolf in sheep's clothing!</p> + +<p>At first Rosie dreaded ever seeing him again. She doubted whether, at +sight of him, she could conceal sufficiently the abhorrence that she +felt. Then she began to want to see him, as one wants to see the animals +in the carnivora building at feeding time. It is a racking experience, +but one likes to go through it. Rosie's final decision was to take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> one +look at the beast, hear for herself the sound of its roar, then flee it +forever.</p> + +<p>A good time to see Jamie O'Brien was after supper, in the cool of the +evening, when he slipped off his shoes, unloosened his suspenders, and +sat him down in the peace and quiet of the back yard. He had a +broken-down old arm-chair, which he knew how to prop against the ancient +little apple-tree and support with a brick at its shortest leg. For +one-half hour every summer evening, when the old chair was properly +braced, and his sock feet were stretched out at ease on a soap-box, +Jamie O'Brien knew comfort, utter and absolute. It was the moment when, +like old King Cole, he called for his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Rosie dear, like a good child, will you bring me me pipe and a few +matches?"</p> + +<p>Rosie, busied in the kitchen over the supper dishes, always knew just +when this call was coming, and always had her answer ready: "All right, +Dad. Just wait till I dry my hands and I will."</p> + +<p>Tonight she gave the usual answer in the usual cheerful tone, for she +felt that it behooved her to meet deceit with deceit if she was to catch +the beast unaware. So she got Jamie his pipe, and later came out again +and perched on the arm of his chair.</p> + +<p>"Say, Dad," she began.</p> + +<p>She took a peep at him from the corner of her eye. Heaven knows he did +not look fierce. He was a plain, lean, little man, of indeterminate +colouring,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> with sparse hair, sparser mustache, and faded blue eyes, +that had a patient, far-away look in them. His face was thin and worn, +with lines that betokened years of labour borne steadily and without +complaint. He was a silent man and passed for thoughtful, though +contemplative would better express his cast of mind. He looked at things +and people slowly and quietly, as if considering them carefully before +committing himself. Then, when he spoke, it would be some slight remark, +brief and commonplace.</p> + +<p>When Rosie began: "Say Dad," he waited patiently. After several seconds +had elapsed, he turned his head slightly and said: "Well, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>He gave her a faint smile, and patted her hand affectionately. +Ordinarily, at this place, Rosie would have slipped an arm about his +neck, but tonight she held back.</p> + +<p>"Say, Dad," she opened again, in a coaxing, confidential tone, "did you +have a good run today?"</p> + +<p>The world in general supposes, no doubt, that, to a motorman, one day's +run must be much like any other. Rosie knew better.</p> + +<p>Jamie very deliberately relit his pipe before answering. Then he said: +"Yes, it was all right, Rosie."</p> + +<p>Rosie waited, as she knew from his manner that something more would +finally come. Jamie gazed about thoughtfully, then concluded: "They was +a flat wheel on the rear truck."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>Rosie was all sympathy. "Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry! It must ha' been horrid +riding all day on a flat wheel."</p> + +<p>Jamie took a puff or two, then announced: "I didn't mind it."</p> + +<p>"Well, Dad, did you report it?"</p> + +<p>Jamie scratched his head, as if in an effort to remember, and at last +said: "Sure."</p> + +<p>After a decent interval, Rosie began again: "Say, Dad, what'd you think +of a man who chased his wife with a hatchet?"</p> + +<p>Rosie thought it would be a little indelicate to come right out with +butcher-knife. Hatchet was near enough, anyway. Rosie's idea was that +her father would betray himself by defending the husband. When he did, +she expected to tell him that she knew all. Her imagination did not +carry her beyond this. She was prepared, however, for something +horrible.</p> + +<p>Jamie O'Brien turned his head almost quickly. "With a hatchet, did you +say, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dad, with a hatchet."</p> + +<p>"That's bad. And is it some one around here that we know?"</p> + +<p>"No, it ain't anybody. I was just saying, what would you think of a man +who did that?"</p> + +<p>"And it ain't some one we know?"</p> + +<p>With a wave of his pipe, Jamie dismissed all hypothetical hatchets, and +returned to the more sensible contemplation of the sky line.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>Rosie felt that she was being trifled with. She gazed at her father +meaningly.</p> + +<p>"Well, what would you say to a man who chased his wife with a +butcher-knife?"</p> + +<p>Again Jamie took an exasperating time to answer, and again his answer +took the form of the question: "Is it some one we know, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie threw discretion to the winds. "I'm sure you ought to know whether +it's some one we know!"</p> + +<p>Jamie blinked his eyes slowly and thoughtfully. "I don't seem to place +him, Rosie."</p> + +<p>Rosie left him in disgust. Brutality is bad enough, but hypocrisy is +worse. She went as far as the kitchen door, then turned back. She would +give him one more chance.</p> + +<p>Again smiling, she put her arms about his neck. "Say, Dad, if you was to +get awful mad at me, what would you do?"</p> + +<p>"At you, do you say, Rosie? Well, now, I don't see how any one could get +awful mad at you."</p> + +<p>Rosie's patience was about exhausted, but she restrained herself. "But, +Dad, if I was to do something awful bad—steal ten dollars, or run away +from home!"</p> + +<p>Jamie looked at Rosie, then at the sky line, then at the soap-box, then +back at Rosie. Surely now a brutal threat was coming.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie dear, I don't think you'd ever do anything like that!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>Huh! What kind of an answer was that for a father to give his child? +Rosie straightened her back, and without another word departed. She felt +that her worst fears were justified. Any man as difficult to trap as +Jamie O'Brien was a dangerous character.</p> + +<p>She nursed her resentment the rest of the evening. Just before she went +to sleep, however, she decided, as a matter of scrupulous justice, to +suspend final judgment until she should have seen for herself that +damning evidence of his brutality, namely, the scar on her poor mother's +right shoulder. Yes, she would find some excuse for seeing it at once.</p> + +<p>The next morning, while her mother was preparing to go to market, of +itself the opportunity came.</p> + +<p>"Rosie dear," Mrs. O'Brien called down from upstairs, "I need your help. +One of me corset strings is busted."</p> + +<p>Rosie found her mother seated at the bureau, half dressed, fanning +herself with a towel. A full expanse of neck and shoulders was exposed, +so that Rosie, busied at her mother's back, was able to scan minutely +all that there was to scan. She looked and looked again, and by patting +her mother affectionately, was able to add the testimony of touch to +that of sight.</p> + +<p>In due time her mother departed, and Rosie, left alone, turned to the +mirror and gazed into it several moments without speaking.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>"Well!" she said at last. "What do you know about that!"</p> + +<p>She shook her head at the round-eyed person in the mirror, and the +round-eyed person nodded back, as deeply impressed with the +inexplicability of things as Rosie herself.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +<a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XVI</span><br /> +<br /> +WHAT EVERY LADY WANTS</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">All</span> morning Rosie moved about the house preoccupied and silent, heaving +an occasional sigh, murmuring an occasional "Huh!"</p> + +<p>At dinner she paid scant attention to her mother's market adventures, +and with difficulty heard Terry's orders concerning a new paper +customer. Her mind was too fully occupied with a problem of its own to +be interested in anything else.</p> + +<p>On the whole it was a strange problem, and one that, after hours of +thought, remained unsolved. By mid-afternoon Rosie was ready to cast it +from her in disgust but she found that she could not. Like a bad +conscience, it stayed with her, dogging her steps even on her paper +route.</p> + +<p>It had the effect of colouring everything that she saw or heard. When +she handed a paper to Mrs. Donovan, the policeman's wife, who exclaimed: +"What do you think of the beautiful new hammock that Mr. Donovan has +just gave me?" Rosie remarked in a tone that was almost sarcastic: "Oh, +ain't you lucky!" and to herself she added cynically: "And I'd like to +know who gave you that black-and-blue spot on your arm!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>She found one of the Misses Grey pale and haggard under the strain of a +hot-weather headache. Rosie forced her unwilling tongue to some +expression of sympathy; but, once on her way, she told her disgruntled +self that what she had wanted to say was: "Well, Miss Grey, I must say, +if I didn't know you was an old maid, I'd ha' taken you for a happy +married woman!"</p> + +<p>Near the end of the route, she found old Danny Agin waiting, as usual, +for his paper. His little blue eyes twinkled Rosie a welcome, and his +jolly cracked voice called out: "How are you today, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>For a moment Rosie gazed at him without speaking. Then she shook her +head, and sighed.</p> + +<p>"You look all right, Danny Agin, just as kind and nice as can be, but I +guess Mis' Agin knows a few things about you!"</p> + +<p>Danny blinked his eyes several times in quick succession. "What's this +ye're sayin', Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nuthin'. I was only saying what a nice day it was. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>Rosie started resolutely away, then paused. She really wanted some one +with whom to talk out her perplexity, and here was Danny Agin, a man of +sound sense and quick sympathy, and her own sworn friend and ally.</p> + +<p>Rosie turned back and, seating herself on the porch step at Danny's +feet, looked up into Danny's face.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>"What's troublin' you, Rosie dear?" Danny's tone was kind and invited +confidence.</p> + +<p>Rosie shook her head gloomily. "Danny, I'm just so mixed up that I don't +know where I'm at. You know Janet McFadden? Well——"</p> + +<p>Rosie took a long breath and, beginning at the beginning, gave Danny a +full account of yesterday's discussion. She brought her story down to +that very morning when her mother had called her upstairs to tie the +broken corset string. At this point she paused and sighed, then looked +at Danny long and searchingly.</p> + +<p>"And, Danny, listen here: <em>There wasn't any scar at all!</em> I hunted over +every scrap of both shoulders and I felt 'em, too, and they were just as +round and smooth as a fat baby! And she said: 'A foot long at least and +two fingers deep.' And she even said it itched in rainy weather! Now +what do you know about that?"</p> + +<p>Danny slowly shook out the folds of a large red handkerchief, dropped it +over his head and face, and bowed himself as though in prayer. No sound +came from behind the handkerchief, but Danny's body began to shake +convulsively. Either he was sobbing, or——</p> + +<p>"Danny Agin, are you laughing?"</p> + +<p>Danny slowly raised his head and, drawing off the handkerchief, began +wiping his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Laughin', is it? Why, it's weepin' I am! Don't you see the tears?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>Rosie looked at him doubtfully. "I don't see what you're weeping about."</p> + +<p>Danny shook his head mournfully. "It's a way I have, Rosie. A thought +came over me while we was talkin' and off I went. And—and here it comes +again!"</p> + +<p>Danny reached for his handkerchief, but too late. The thought seemed to +hit him full in the stomach, and back he fell into his chair, rolling +and spluttering.</p> + +<p>"Danny Agin, you are laughing!"</p> + +<p>Danny wiped his eyes again. "Perhaps I am this time, Rosie. I'm took +different at different times."</p> + +<p>Rosie frowned on him severely. "Well, I think you were laughing the +first time and you needn't deny it. And, what's more, I don't see +anything to laugh at."</p> + +<p>"Whisht now, darlint, and I'll tell you. I'll talk to you like man to +man. 'Twas thought of the ladies."</p> + +<p>"What ladies?"</p> + +<p>"All o' them. They're all the same."</p> + +<p>"Who are all the same?"</p> + +<p>"The ladies, Rosie. Janet and your ma, and the rest o' them!"</p> + +<p>"Danny, I don't see how you can say that. Ma and Janet are not a bit the +same. They're exactly different. There's ma who's got a kind husband, +and she goes telling that he chases her with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> butcher-knife, and +there's Janet whose father is a drunken brute, and she goes pretending +he's the best ever."</p> + +<p>"Precisely, Rosie. You couldn't have expressed it better. Now you'll +understand me when I tell you that they all want the same thing, which +is this: They want to be beat, and they don't want to be beat. Now let +me say it to you again, Rosie: They want to be beat, and they don't want +to be beat. There!"</p> + +<p>Rosie put her hands to her head in distraction. "Danny Agin, I don't +know what you're talking about!"</p> + +<p>"I'm talkin' about the ladies."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, what I want to know is this: How can they want a thing when +they don't want it?"</p> + +<p>It was Danny's turn to look distracted. "Rosie, Rosie, ye'll drive me +mad with yir questions! If I could tell you how they do, I would and +gladly. But I can't. All I can tell you is they do."</p> + +<p>"But, Danny, what sense has a thing like that got? 'They want to be +beat, and they don't want to be beat.' That's exactly like saying: It's +winter and it's summer at the same time. It's not good sense to say a +thing like that."</p> + +<p>"Sense, Rosie?" Danny looked at her reproachfully. "It's not sense I'm +talkin' about. It's not the logic of the ladies I'm impressin' on you, +mind—it's their feelin's. I'm tellin' you the kind o' man every lady's +on the lookout for—a fine brute of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> fella that would as soon knock +her down as look at her, and yet would never raise a finger against +her."</p> + +<p>Rosie's hands dropped limply into her lap. "Danny Agin, do you know +sometimes I get so mixed up that I feel just like I was crazy! That's +how I feel now."</p> + +<p>Danny nodded sympathetically. "Small wonder, Rosie. 'They want to be +beat, and they don't want to be beat.' I defy any man to say that over +fifty times and not go mad! And what would you say, Rosie, to a poor man +havin' to live, day in and day out, for forty years with an everlastin' +conthradiction like that? Ah, Mary's a fine woman, but I tell you, +Rosie, in all confidence, I've had me own troubles. Many's the time I've +seen her just achin' for a good sound beatin', but, if ever I'd laid the +tip o' me finger upon her, her heart would ha' broke, and she'd ha' felt +the shame of it the longest day of her life. And they're all the same, +Rosie; take me word for it, they're all the same. They want their +menfolks to be lions, and they want them to be lambs."</p> + +<p><em>Lions and lambs!</em> Her mother's very words! Upon Rosie the light began +to break. "Why, Danny!" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"Take yir own case, Rosie dear. There's yir own da, a meek lamb of a +man——"</p> + +<p>"But, Danny, I like my father because he's so kind!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>"Whisht, now, darlint, and listen. Wouldn't it be fine if he was the +size of that sthrappin' polisman, Pete Donovan, with the lump of a +diamond in his shirt front as big as an egg, and a great black mustache +coverin' the red lips of him, and a roar in his voice that'd send the +b'ys a-scatterin' for blocks around!"</p> + +<p>The figure evoked was certainly one of heroic proportions, and Rosie, as +she gazed at it, involuntarily gave a little sigh.</p> + +<p>Danny chuckled. "Ha, ha, Rosie! Ye're like the rest o' them!"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not, Danny Agin! Honest I'm not! I'm glad my father's kind. I +wouldn't love him if he wasn't, and you needn't think I would!"</p> + +<p>Rosie struggled hard to convince Danny, but in vain. The more she +protested, the louder Danny chuckled.</p> + +<p>"Only think, Rosie dear, the pride in yir heart, if this great brute of +a man, rampin' about like a lion, tearin' to pieces everybody that stood +in his way, in yir own prisence, wee bit of a woman that ye are, should +turn into a tame lamb!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Danny!"</p> + +<p>In spite of herself, Rosie faced the world with something of the +conscious air of a lion-tamer. Danny's chuckle recalled her to herself, +and she watched him with growing resentment, as he continued:</p> + +<p>"You see, Rosie, it's this way: The worse brute<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> a man is, the greater +glory he brings to the woman that tames him. Rosie, me advice to any +young man that is courtin' a girl is to roar—not to roar at her, mind, +but at everybody else when she's within hearin'. What a fine feelin' it +must give a girl to have a roarin' bull of a young fella come softly up +to her and eat out of her hand! And think of the great game it is to +keep him tame! Rosie, take me word for it, these here soft-spoken men +like yir own poor da and like meself—I take shame to confess it—make a +great mistake. Many's the time it had been better for me peace of mind +afterward had I let out a roar just for appearances' sake. I see it +now."</p> + +<p>Danny wagged his head and sighed.</p> + +<p>"It's lucky for you, Rosie, that you have me to tell you all this, for +ye'd never hear it from the ladies themselves. They never let out a +whisper about it, but carry on just like Janet and yir own ma. Ah, don't +tell me! I know them! They's some kind of a mystic sisterhood among +them—I dunno just what, and in some few things they never give each +other away."</p> + +<p>"Don't they, Danny?"</p> + +<p>"They do not."</p> + +<p>Rosie regarded the old man thoughtfully. One could see the very +processes of a new idea slowly working in her mind. Danny watched her +curiously. At length he asked: "Well, Rosie, what is it?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>Rosie paused impressively before answering: "I was just thinking, Danny +Agin, that you're right about yourself, but you're making a great +mistake about my father." Rosie nodded significantly. "He's not as quiet +as you think he is, in spite of his quiet ways. Sometimes he's just +awful."</p> + +<p>For a moment Danny was taken in. "Why, Rosie, aren't you just afther +tellin' me about the scar that wasn't there?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I'm sorry now I told you." There was a gleam in Rosie's eye +which declared very emphatically that the sequel to that story would +never again be related. "Listen here, Danny Agin! Now I understand—if +my mother made up something about that scar, it was just to hide +something else that was worse!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie! Ye don't say so!" For a moment Danny looked at her in +astonishment. Then he lay back with a wheezy guffaw. "Rosie, ye'll be +the death o' me yet! I suppose if the truth was known, Jamie beats yir +ma every night of her life to a black-and-blue jelly! Don't he now?"</p> + +<p>Rosie covered herself with an air of distant reserve. "I'm not going to +tell you what he does. That's a family matter. But I will say one thing: +You think Terry's awful nice, don't you? Everybody does. But do you know +what he'd do to me if I was to lose one of his paper customers? He'd +just beat the puddin' out o' me—yes, he would!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie!" Danny looked shocked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> "What's this ye're sayin'? I +thought you and Terry were great friends."</p> + +<p>"Great friends? Oh, yes, we're great friends all right. You can always +be great friends with a fellow like Terry as long as you run your legs +off for him. But just let something happen, and then——"</p> + +<p>Rosie ended with a "Huh!" and shook her head gloomily.</p> + +<p>Danny gasped. "You don't say so, Rosie!"</p> + +<p>There was the sound of an opening screen, and Danny, knowing that his +wife must be coming, with a wheezy chuckle called out:</p> + +<p>"Mary, Mary, do ye know who's here? It's Rosie O'Brien, and she's one of +ye! She's fallen into line!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Agin came out on the porch, and stood for a moment looking from +Danny to Rosie. She was a tall, gaunt old woman with thick white hair +and thick eyebrows, which were still dark. She gave one the impression +of great tidiness and cleanliness, together with the possibility of that +caustic speech which so often characterizes the good housekeeper.</p> + +<p>Rosie appealed to her eagerly: "Mis' Agin, I think Danny's just awful!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Agin glanced sharply at Danny, and then, with a seemingly +clairvoyant understanding that the subject under discussion related +somehow to the eternal war of the sexes, she went over to Rosie's side +at once.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>"What's he been sayin' to you, dear?"</p> + +<p>"He's making fun of me because I told him if I was to lose one of my +paper customers, Terry would beat me. And he would, too!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Agin turned on Danny severely. "Take shame to yourself, Dan Agin, +to be teasin' Rosie O'Brien!"</p> + +<p>"And listen here, Mis' Agin," Rosie continued. "He's been sayin' just +awful things about us!"</p> + +<p>"About us, Rosie? Do you mean about both of us?"</p> + +<p>"About all of us, Mis' Agin—us ladies."</p> + +<p>Rosie sat up very straight and severe.</p> + +<p>Danny seemed to think the situation amusing, but he was the only one who +did. Mrs. Agin glared at him darkly.</p> + +<p>"Dan Agin, what's this ye've been sayin' to Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Danny continued to shake with silent mirth, so Rosie answered for him:</p> + +<p>"He says what all of us ladies wants is this: We want to be beat, and we +don't want to be beat. Now, isn't that the silliest thing you ever +heard, Mis' Agin? And he says when we marry a brute of a man, we pretend +that he's kind and nice, and when we marry a nice, kind man, we let on +he's a brute."</p> + +<p>"Dan Agin, what do ye mean, puttin' such nonsense into Rosie's head? +Answer me that now!"</p> + +<p>"And listen, Mis' Agin," Rosie went on. "Just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> because he's that kind of +a man himself, he thinks everybody else is. And they're not! Every one +thinks my father's so quiet and nice, but I guess I know him! Sometimes +he's just awful! And Terry, too! But Danny here, he thinks they're every +one of them just as harmless as he is. I guess he's so scared himself +that that's the reason he tries to make out that other men are, too!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Agin glared at Danny a moment in silence. Then she spoke:</p> + +<p>"Dan Agin, how dare ye go blastin' the reputation of decent men! There +are others like ye, do ye say? There are not! There's not another woman +in Ameriky that's stood what I've stood for forty years! Ah, many's the +time it was just one black murtherin' look I was cravin' from ye to bear +out me story that I had married a man, instead of a joke! And did ever I +get it from ye, Dan Agin! I did not—bad cess to ye for a soft-hearted, +good-for-nuthin' of a man that'd let a woman thrample ye in the dust if +she wanted to! 'Twas yir luck that ye little deserved to marry a decent, +quiet woman like meself!"</p> + +<p>"Ye're right, Mary!" Danny murmured meekly. "Ye're a fine woman!"</p> + +<p>"Hold yir tongue, Dan Agin, or, cripple that ye are, I'll be givin' you +the lickin' that I've wanted to give you these forty years every time +ye've let me have me own way when I oughtn't have had it!"</p> + +<p>Rosie stood up to go. "I have one more paper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> to deliver, Mis' Agin, so +I'll have to say good-bye. If Terry was to know that I stopped to talk +before I had delivered all my papers, he'd beat me half to death."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Agin smiled on her affectionately. "Good-bye, Rosie dear. And mind, +now, if ever again Danny goes talkin' such nonsense, ye're to call me, +and I'll soon settle him. Now run along, or that brute of a Terry'll be +after you."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Rosie," Danny called out, in a tone of hypocritical meekness +that made Rosie's blood boil anew.</p> + +<p>Rosie stopped and turned about to give him the look of scorn that he +deserved.</p> + +<p>"Danny Agin, you just ought to be ashamed o' yourself the way you treat +poor Mis' Agin!"</p> + +<p>"I am, Rosie," Danny gasped in a voice of mock tears exasperating beyond +words.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +<a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XVII</span><br /> +<br /> +ROSIE PROMISES TO BE GOOD</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Rosie</span> hurried away, furious at Danny, and furious also at her own +father. Any man who puts his womenfolk to such shame ought to be choked! +In spite of certain drawbacks, Janet McFadden's lot was happier than +Mrs. Agin's, or than Rosie's own. At least no one ever called into +question Dave McFadden's ability to govern his own household. This was +so patent to the world at large that Janet could actually go about +pretending that her father was a sentimental weakling. Happy, happy +Janet!</p> + +<p>It made Rosie shudder in self-disgust to think of the many damning +admissions that she had made Janet. Well, at any rate, she would never +again be caught. She had learned a thing or two since yesterday. +Moreover, she would lose no time in setting Janet right. She would stop +to see Janet now on her way home. That scar story would make Janet open +her eyes! And Rosie would not foolishly situate it on a spot as easy of +detection as her mother's right shoulder. Nev-er!</p> + +<p>A woman who was sweeping the steps in front of the tenement where the +McFaddens lived, made the friendly inquiry: "Lookin' for Janet?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>Rosie nodded.</p> + +<p>"Better not go up," the woman advised. "Dave McFadden's just come in +soused again."</p> + +<p>Rosie paused.</p> + +<p>"Is he beating Janet?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think so. Janet knows pretty well how to take care of +herself. Gee, you ought to see her dodge him! She's a wonder! He +wouldn't ha' caught her last time if she hadn't slipped."</p> + +<p>Rosie started on, and the woman called after her: "I tell you, you +better not go up! Dave sure is out lookin' for trouble!"</p> + +<p>The warning was a kindly one, but Rosie saw no reason for accepting it. +The truth was that, in her present mood of resentment against the Danny +Agins and Jamie O'Briens of life, she felt that it would be a relief to +see a man who was confessedly out looking for trouble.</p> + +<p>The McFaddens lived on the fourth floor back. Their door was open, so +Rosie could hear that something was going on as she climbed the third +flight of stairs. When she reached the top, her courage faltered. Had +the McFadden door been closed, very probably she could not have forced +herself to knock; but, as it was open, if she slipped along the dark +hall quietly, she could take a peep inside before announcing herself.</p> + +<p>"Daddy!" she heard cried out suddenly. It was Janet's voice. "My arm! +You're hurting me! Please let go! I'll be good!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>"Arguin' with your own father, eh?" Dave's thick voice boomed and +rumbled. "Well, I'll learn you a lesson!"</p> + +<p>"But, Daddy," Janet coaxed; "wait a minute! The door's open! Please let +me shut it! Some one will hear us! Please let go of me just a minute!"</p> + +<p>Then, just as Rosie reached the door, there was a scuffle inside, and +Janet must have escaped her father's clutches, for instantly the door +slammed. It slammed so nearly into Rosie's face that, with a gasp, she +turned and fled. Down the three flights of stairs she ran, past the +woman on the front steps without a word, and on to the safety of home as +fast as her panting heart could carry her. There, spent and breathless, +she murmured to herself:</p> + +<p>"Well, anyhow, I'm mighty glad it ain't me, 'cause I can't dodge worth a +cent!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>That night after supper, while Rosie was washing dishes, when Jamie +O'Brien called: "Rosie dear, like a good child, will ye bring me me pipe +and a few matches?" Rosie sang out in tones positively vibrating with +feeling: "Yes, Daddy darling, I will! I'll bring them this very minute!"</p> + +<p>Later she perched herself on the side of her father's chair, and put an +arm about his neck.</p> + +<p>"Good old Daddy! Did you have a good run today, dearie?"</p> + +<p>Jamie sucked his pipe hard and, after thinking a while, answered: +"Pretty good."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>"And, Daddy dear, did they take off that car that had a flat wheel?"</p> + +<p>This was a question that required considerable deliberation. Rosie +waited, and at last had her reward.</p> + +<p>"Sure they did."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Daddy!" Rosie hugged him suddenly, and kissed his thin, leathery +cheek. "I just love you so much! I wouldn't change you for any other +father in the world!"</p> + +<p>After getting the full purport of this declaration, Jamie remarked: +"That's good!"</p> + +<p>Rosie slipped impulsively from the arm of the chair into Jamie's lap. It +was not a comfortable arrangement for Jamie, but he was a patient soul, +and made no outcry.</p> + +<p>Rosie snuggled up to him affectionately. "Say, Daddy," she whispered, +"if I was awful bad, what would you do to me? Wouldn't you just beat +me?"</p> + +<p>Jamie relit his pipe, took one puff, examined the sky line, then shook +his head knowingly: "I would that! But, Rosie dear, you mustn't be bad, +you know."</p> + +<p>Rosie took a long, shivery breath. "Oh, Daddy, please don't beat me! +I'll be good, honest I will!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +<a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XVIII</span><br /> +<br /> +ON THE CULTURE OF BABIES</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Midsummer</span> came and with it a great suffocating blanket of heat which +brought prostration to the world at large and to little Rosie O'Brien a +new care and a great anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I don't mind about myself," she murmured one breathless sultry morning +as she served George Riley his late breakfast. Even George, who paid +scant attention to weather, looked worn and pale.</p> + +<p>Rosie sat down opposite him as he began eating and stared at him out of +eyes that were very sad and very serious.</p> + +<p>"It's Geraldine, Jarge. I don't know what I'm going to do. The poor +birdie was awake nearly all night. I hope you didn't hear us. I don't +want to disturb you, too."</p> + +<p>George shook his head. "Oh, I slept all right. I always do. But it was +so blamed hot that when I got up I felt weak as a cat." He bolted a +knifeful of fried potatoes, then asked: "What's ailing Geraldine? Ain't +her food agreeing with her?"</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed. It was the sigh of a little mother who had been asking +herself that same question<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> over and over. "It's partly that; but I +think the food would be all right if only other things were all right. +You're a man, Jarge, so you don't understand about babies. It's +Geraldine's second summer and she's teething. Her poor little mouth's +all swollen and feverish. It would be bad enough in cold weather, but in +this heat she hardly gets a wink of sleep.... I tell you, Jarge, if we +don't do something for her real quick, she's just going to die!" Rosie +dropped her head on the table and wept.</p> + +<p>"Aw, now, 'tain't that bad, is it, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." The answer came muffled in tears. "It's just awful, Jarge, the +way they go down. They'll be perfectly well, and then before you know +what's happening they just wilt, and you can't do anything for them. And +if Geraldine dies, I—I want to die too!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, Rosie, cheer up! She ain't going to die!" George's words were brave +but his face was troubled. "I suppose, now, if she was only in the +country, she'd be all right, wouldn't she?"</p> + +<p>Rosie wiped her eyes and sighed. "Is it cool in the country, Jarge?"</p> + +<div><a name="stared" id="stared"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 429px;"> +<img src="images/i-005.jpg" width="429" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">Rosie stared at him out of eyes that were very sad and +very serious.</span> +</div> + +<p>"You bet it is—just as cool and nice! The grass is green and wind's +always a-blowin' in the trees and you can hear the gurgle of the creek +down at the bottom of the meadow. And at night you can sleep on the big +upstairs porch, if you want to, and you always get a breeze up there. +And you needn't be afraid of mosquitoes and flies, either, 'cause mother +always has things screened in with black mosquito-netting. Oh, I tell +you it's just fine in the country!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>George paused a moment, then laughed a little apologetically. +"Leastways, Rosie, that's how I always think of the country now. Of +course we do have sizzling weather out there just as much as we do here; +but it's different, somehow. Out there you get a chance to cool off. +They ain't them ever-lasting paved streets all around you, sending out +heat like a furnace night and day just the same.... Do you know, I ain't +felt like myself for three weeks! If I was back home now I tell you what +I'd do: I'd go down to the creek and take a dip and then I'd come in +and, by gosh, maybe I wouldn't sleep!"</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed again. "Well, no use talking about the country. It's the +city for ours, even if Geraldine does die."</p> + +<p>Tears again threatened and George hastened to give the comforting +assurance: "Aw, now, Rosie, it ain't that bad, I know it ain't. Besides, +this weather can't keep up forever. We'll be having a thunderstorm any +time now, and that'll cool things off." Then, to change the subject: +"What does your mother say about Geraldine?"</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" Rosie tossed her head in fine scorn. "I'd like to know what my +mother knows about babies!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>George protested. "She ought to know something. She's had a few +herself."</p> + +<p>"Jarge Riley, you listen to me." Rosie looked at him fixedly. "With some +women, having babies don't mean one blessed thing! They just have 'em +and have 'em and have 'em, and that's all they know about them. Take me, +now, and I'm twelve, and take ma, and I don't know how old she is, but +she has had eight children, so you can judge for yourself, and right now +she's so ignur'nt about the proper care and feeding of babies that I +wouldn't dare trust Geraldine to her alone for twenty-four hours!"</p> + +<p>Rosie paused impressively, then concluded with the damning statement: +"All the time she was taking care of that baby she never once boiled a +nipple! Never once!"</p> + +<p>George blinked his eyes in puzzled thought. "Do you got to boil 'em?"</p> + +<p>For a moment Rosie glared unspeakable things. Then she answered with +crushing emphasis: "You certainly do!"</p> + +<p>George moved uneasily. "No hard feelings, Rosie. I was just askin'."</p> + +<p>Rosie was magnanimous. "I'm not blaming you, Jarge. You're a man and not +supposed to understand about sterilizing. But I do say it's disgraceful +in a mother of eight.... Why, do you know what ma was feeding Geraldine +when I took hold of her? Nothing but that old-fashioned baby<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>-food that +nobody but ignur'nt people use now. It's the first thing they hand out +to you at the drug-store, if you don't know the difference. It makes +babies fat but it don't give them one bit of strength, and people like +ma suppose if a baby's fat, of course, it's all right. Oh, such +ignur'nce!" Rosie sighed wearily and cast long-suffering eyes to heaven.</p> + +<p>Balancing a conciliatory knife on his finger, George appealed to her as +man to man: "Now, Rosie, see here: I'm not saying that you don't know +all about babies, 'cause I think you do. I know the way you been finding +out things at the Little Mothers' Class and I know the way you study +that book. But facts is facts, Rosie, and after all, your ma has raised +five kids out of eight, and that ain't so bad."</p> + +<p>"Go on." Rosie looked at him challengingly.</p> + +<p>George had no more to say.</p> + +<p>Rosie had. "Jarge Riley, you know as much about babies as a rabbit! +Don't you know that Geraldine is a bottle-baby?"</p> + +<p>An expression of helpless wonderment spread over George's face. "Why, +Rosie, ain't they all bottle-babies? Seems to me I always seen 'em give +bottles to all of 'em."</p> + +<p>"All of them bottle-babies! Jarge, you're more ignur'nt than I supposed. +Why, every last baby my mother's had except Geraldine has been a +breast-baby!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>The pink of an unexpected embarrassment mounted to George's shiny +cheekbones.</p> + +<p>Rosie surveyed him critically. "I suppose, now that you come to think +about it, it seems to you they must all be breast-babies, too. Tell me, +ain't that so?"</p> + +<p>"Search me if it ain't!" George spoke in candid bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"That just shows how much you know and yet you're willing to sit there +and argue with me. Now I suppose you think it takes as much brains to +raise a breast-baby as a bottle-baby." There was a question in Rosie's +tone but George, breathing hard, had no opinion to hazard. After a +moment of impressive silence, Rosie continued: "Any ordinary, ignur'nt, +healthy woman, with lots of good milk, can raise a baby, but when it +comes to bottle-feeding——"</p> + +<p>Rosie broke off suddenly and her face took on the expression of a +listening mother.</p> + +<p>"Rosie! Rosie!" Mrs. O'Brien's voice called. "Geraldine's awake and is +crying for you."</p> + +<p>Rosie paused long enough to say, in parting: "There's lots more I could +tell you, Jarge, if I had time."</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't mind me, Rosie. Just run along. I'm sure Geraldine needs +you." George spoke with a certain relief. The weight of the new +knowledge that Rosie had already imposed upon him seemed as much as he +could bear for the present.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>Rosie left him. She felt cheered and comforted, as talking out her +troubles with George always cheered and comforted her. Dear old George! +Rosie didn't know what she would do without him.</p> + +<p>It was well that she had the consciousness of his friendly interest to +support her, for the day was to prove a trying one. Not a breath of air +stirred, and Geraldine, languid and feverish, tossed and fretted +unceasingly. Ordinarily Rosie could have given her whole attention to +the ailing baby, but today she had to take her mother's place as cook +for dinner, since a large family washing required all of Mrs. O'Brien's +time and strength. If Geraldine would only have fallen off to sleep, +Rosie could have managed simply enough; but the poor child could not +sleep. So Rosie spent a frantic morning running back and forth between +kitchen and front room.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie, what ails you? You're not eating a bite," her father +remarked during dinner.</p> + +<p>"It's too hot to eat," Rosie murmured.</p> + +<p>"Give me your meat!" Jack cried out. "Please, Rosie!"</p> + +<p>Without a word, Rosie passed him her plate.</p> + +<p>In mid-afternoon, when it was time for Rosie to go about her business of +delivering papers, she entrusted the care of Geraldine to Janet +McFadden. For several days now she had been employing Janet for this +duty. Out of her own earnings she was paying Janet two cents a day, and +she did not grudge the money. Janet was the one person to whom she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> was +willing to entrust Geraldine at this critical time. Janet knew as much +about babies as Rosie herself, for she had gone to the Little Mother +classes with Rosie and had faithfully studied the book. So Rosie started +out with the feeling that she need not hurry back.</p> + +<p>She loitered along slowly; after the rush of home it was good to loiter. +Even the blazing sun was restful compared with home and its unending +demands. Rosie covered the ground at snail's pace, resting at the least +provocation of shade, and stopping to look at the least hint of anything +happening or likely to happen.</p> + +<p>It was five o'clock when she reached home again, and time to give +Geraldine her afternoon bath. Mrs. O'Brien was still at the +ironing-board and Rosie had to shift clothes-horses to find a place on +the floor for the big basin.</p> + +<p>"Ah, now, and ain't Rosie the kind sister to be giving Geraldine a nice +bath!" Mrs. O'Brien began in her usual tone and manner. "Your poor ma +wishes there was some one to give her a nice bath!" She rambled on while +Rosie splashed Geraldine and then began wrapping her in a towel.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't moind it so much if only it cooled off of nights." Mrs. +O'Brien wiped her moist face with her apron, and sighed. "It's played +out I am, Rosie. I can't stand another minute." She took a long, +uncertain breath and dropped heavily into a chair.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>Rosie, with Geraldine in her arms, paused in the doorway. She, too, +wanted to escape from the hot kitchen, but something in her mother's +tone held her.</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien swayed listlessly in her chair. "It's sick at me stomach +I'm feelin'. The smell o' the kitchen goes agin' me.... Rosie dear——" +Mrs. O'Brien broke off to look at Rosie a moment in silent appeal. +"Rosie dear, do ye think just for tonight ye could cook the supper for +me? I hate to ask you—I do that, for ye've had a hard day of it with +poor wee Geraldine fretting her life away. And I'm not forgetting that +ye helped me this noon. I wouldn't be asking another thing of you today +if I could help it, but I'm clean tuckered out ironin' them last +shirt-waists for Ellen, and I tell ye, Rosie, I feel like I'd faint if I +thried to stand up in front of that stove."</p> + +<p>Tears of self-pity came to Rosie's eyes and she wanted to cry out: "And +what about me? Don't you suppose I'm tired, too?" But the sight of her +mother's face going suddenly pale and of her hands beginning to shake, +checked her, and she said, quietly enough: "All right, Ma, I will. You +take Geraldine and go out in front. Maybe it's a little cooler there."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien started off, murmuring gratefully: "Ah, Rosie dear, ye're a +darlint and I don't know what I'd do without you!"</p> + +<p>Rosie, left to herself, instead of taking comfort at thought of her own +nobility of conduct, leaned miserably against the kitchen door and burst +into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> tears.... "I don't see why I always got to do all the disagreeable +things in this house, and I always do got to, too! I—I—I'm tired, I +am!"</p> + +<p>She sobbed on awhile brokenly, then slowly dried her eyes, for it was +half-past five and time to set to work for supper.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +<a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XIX</span><br /> +<br /> +CRAZY WITH THE HEAT</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Rosie</span> was spoken of in the family as a good cook, but this afternoon +there was so little of any housewifely pride left in her that she fried +the potatoes as carelessly as Ellen would have fried them, and she +scorched the ham. She set the table after some fashion, and then, when +all was ready, went through the house calling, "Supper's ready! Supper's +ready!"</p> + +<p>As the family straggled in, Rosie went on to her next duty of putting +George Riley's supper into a tin pail.</p> + +<p>"Better hurry," Terence warned her. "You'll be missing Jarge's car."</p> + +<p>"I can't hurry any faster," Rosie murmured; but she did, nevertheless, +snatch up the pail and start off.</p> + +<p>It seemed to her the street was even hotter and more breathless than the +smoky kitchen. The late afternoon sun was still beating down on +pavements and houses and people, fiercely, unceasingly, as it had been +since early morning, and all things alike looked worn and dusty and +utterly fatigued. Little shop-girls were trailing listlessly home, their +hats crooked,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> their black waists limp with perspiration, their hair +hanging about their pale faces in shiny, damp strings. Yet, tired as +they were, they were still attempting forlorn, giggly little jokes and +friendly greetings.</p> + +<p>One girl called out in passing: "Gee, Rosie, ain't this the limit?" +Another asked facetiously: "Well, kid, how does this weather suit you?" +and a third stopped her to exclaim breathlessly: "Say, Rosie, ain't you +just crazy with the heat!"</p> + +<p>Rosie reached the corner in good time for George's car. There was a +slight congestion in traffic and George had a moment or two before +dashing back to his place on the rear platform. He looked dirty and hot. +His collar was in a soft welt, his face streaked with dust and +perspiration. His expression, usually good-natured, was gloomy and +irritable.</p> + +<p>"What you got tonight?" he asked, lifting the lid of the pail. "What! +Ham again? Ham! What do you think I am? It's ham, ham, ham, every night +of the week till I'm sick and tired of it! Here! Take it back—I don't +want it! I'll buy me something decent to eat!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Jarge!" Rosie had never heard him talk that way before. She hadn't +supposed he could talk that way to her. The unexpectedness of it was +like a blow. For the first time in their acquaintance she shrank from +him. Her face quivered, her eyes filled with tears. "Why, Jarge!" she +stammered again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>The motorman of George's car sounded his gong in warning and George, +without another word, dropped the pail at Rosie's feet and jumped +aboard.</p> + +<p>Rosie, dazed and crushed, stood where she was until the car disappeared. +At first she was too hurt to cry out; too surprised by the suddenness of +the attack to formulate her protest in words. One thing only was clear, +namely, that George Riley had failed her. She could never again believe +in him blindly, implicitly, as heretofore. There she had been supposing +him so much better than any one else, and he wasn't at all. Probably he +wasn't as good!... One little corner of her heart pleaded for him, +whispering that poor George must have forgotten himself for the moment +because, like the rest of the world, he was crazy with the heat. But +Rosie silenced the whisper by exclaiming passionately: "Even if he was, +I don't see why he had to go and take it out on me! I'm sure I'm not to +blame!"</p> + +<p>After a pause her heart again sought weakly to excuse him by suggesting +that perhaps Mrs. O'Brien did serve fried ham with a certain monotonous +regularity. Rosie was not to be taken in by that. "Well," she demanded +grimly, "what does he expect on a five-dollar-a-week board, with meat +the price it is! Lamb chops and porterhouse steak?" After that her heart +said nothing more, realizing, apparently, that so long as Rosie cared to +nurse her grievance, she could find reasons in plenty. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> Rosie did +care to nurse it, and by the act of nursing soon changed it from a +feeling of bewildered woe to one of mounting indignation.... If George +Riley wanted to act that way, very well, let him do so. But he better +not think that she, Rosie O'Brien, would stand for any such treatment, +for she just wouldn't!</p> + +<p>At home she was able to explain quietly enough that George hadn't wanted +any supper. Jack at once called out: "Give me his ham! Aw, please, now, +Rosie, give it to me! Give it to me!"</p> + +<p>"No, Jackie, you're too little to have meat at supper," Rosie explained. +"This is for Terry. Here, Terry."</p> + +<p>Terence accepted the windfall with a gallant, "Thanks, Rosie." Then he +added: "But don't you want a piece of it yourself?"</p> + +<p>"No, Terry, I'm not hungry. Besides, ma has saved me a little piece."</p> + +<p>"And here it is, ye poor lamb." Mrs. O'Brien touched her affectionately +on the cheek. "Sit right down and eat it before Geraldine wakes. Ye've +hardly had a bite all day."</p> + +<p>Rosie took her place at the table and tried to eat. It was no use; and +suddenly, as much to her own surprise as to the others', she burst out +crying.</p> + +<p>"Mercy on us!" Mrs. O'Brien threw up astonished hands. "What's happened +now?"</p> + +<p>"N-nothing," Rosie quavered, pushing her plate away and dropping her +head upon the table.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>"What's ailin' you, Rosie?" her father asked gently.</p> + +<p>"E-E-Ellen's got to do the dishes tonight. I-I-I'm too tired."</p> + +<p>"I'm awful sorry," Ellen began, "but tonight, Rosie, I got to go out +early. I got to go over to Hattie Graydon's for a note-book."</p> + +<p>"Note-book nuthin'!" Terence glared at Ellen angrily. "That's the way +you get out of everything, with your note-books and your Hattie Graydons +and your old business college! Listen here, Ellen O'Brien: you'll do +those dishes tonight or I'll know why!"</p> + +<p>"Huh!" snorted Ellen. "From the way you talk, a person would suppose you +were my father."</p> + +<p>"Wish I was your father for ten minutes—long enough to give you a good +beatin'!... Who do you think you are, anyway? A real live lady? +Everybody else in the family's got to work, but not you!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, now, Terry," Mrs. O'Brien expostulated, "you mustn't be talkin' +that way to your poor sister Ellen. She's got her own work to do at +school and I'm sure it's hard work, ain't it, Ellen dear?"</p> + +<p>"Say, Ma, you fade away!" Terence waved his hand suggestively. "What you +don't know about Ellen's a-plenty! Just look at her, the big lazy lump! +There she's been sitting in a comfortable cool room all day long with a +fan in one hand and a pencil in the other and her mouth full of +chewing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>-gum, pretending to study, and you and Rosie have been up here +in this hot little hole working like niggers. Aw, why do you let her +fool you? Why don't you make her do something?"</p> + +<p>Ellen, her head tossed high, appealed to her mother. "Ma, will you +please explain to Mr. Terence O'Brien that I'd be perfectly willing to +wash and wipe the dishes every night of my life if it wasn't for my +hands. If ever I'm to be a stenog, I've got to take care of my hands."</p> + +<p>"What about Rosie's hands?" Reaching over, Terence drew one out from +beneath Rosie's face and held it up. At that moment it was a pathetic +little hand, shaken by sobs and wet with tears, but its roughened skin +and short, stubby nails were evidence enough of the work that it did.</p> + +<p>"Well, what about them?" Ellen, at least, was unmoved by the exhibit. +"Rosie's not going to be a stenog, is she?"</p> + +<p>Terence almost choked in fury, but before he could find an answer +sufficiently crushing, his father spoke.</p> + +<p>"See here, Ellen, we've had talk enough. You'll be doing the dishes +tonight before you go after the note-book. That ends it."</p> + +<p>"Very well!" Ellen flounced out of the room, then flounced back. "But if +I don't get my certificate next month, you'll know whose fault it is!"</p> + +<p>"Ain't she the limit?" Terry addressed his inquiry to the gas-jet, and +small Jack, taking up the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> word, called after her: "Ellen, you're the +limit! You're the limit!"</p> + +<p>"Fie on you, Jackie!" Mrs. O'Brien said reprovingly. "You mustn't be +talkin' that way to your sister."</p> + +<p>But Jack, hopping about the kitchen like mad, kept shouting, "You're the +limit! You're the limit!" until there was a sudden wail from the front +of the house.</p> + +<p>"Now see what ye've done, ye naughty b'y! Ye've waked up Geraldine!"</p> + +<p>Jack subsided abruptly and Rosie, with a sigh, stood up.</p> + +<p>Her mother looked at her compassionately. "Sit where you are, Rosie +dear, and rest, and I'll take care of Geraldine."</p> + +<p>"No, I'll go."</p> + +<p>Rosie carried the child outside to the little front porch, where she +rocked and crooned in the gathering darkness until Geraldine grew quiet. +Then she put her to bed and later, at the proper time, gave her a last +bottle. After that Rosie's day was done.</p> + +<p>To be near Geraldine, Rosie was sleeping downstairs for the present, on +the floor of the front room. Just as George Riley got home she was ready +to retire.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, everybody," she said.</p> + +<p>George, looking a little sheepish, called after her: "Aren't you going +to kiss me good-night, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Without turning back, Rosie made answer:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> "It's too hot to kiss." Then +she told herself grimly: "There, now! I guess that'll jar him! If he +thinks he can treat me like a nigger and then kiss me good-night, he's +mightily mistaken." She closed the door of the room with a determined +click and stood for a moment with her head high. Then she sank to the +floor, a very miserable little heap of a girl who sobbed to herself: +"But I wish he wasn't so mean to me!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +<a name="XX" id="XX"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XX</span><br /> +<br /> +A FEVERED WORLD</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">It</span> was a sultry, oppressive night, hard enough for adults to endure and +fearfully weakening to teething babies. The next day the heat continued +and Geraldine fretted and drooped until Rosie was frantic with anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Rosie dear, you're all pale and thin," her mother remarked, and Janet +McFadden, looking at her affectionately, said: "Now, Rosie, why don't +you let me deliver your papers for a couple of days? You're fagged out."</p> + +<p>"No," Rosie said. "If you'll keep on coming over in the afternoon while +I'm away, that's help enough."</p> + +<p>"But, Rosie, I could do your papers easy enough. I know all your +customers."</p> + +<p>"'Tain't that, Janet. Of course, you know them. And I thank you for +offering, for it sure is the hottest time of the day. But it's my only +chance to get away from home for a little while and I think I'd just die +if I didn't go."</p> + +<p>So she went, as usual, though her feet dragged heavily and her eyes +throbbed with a dull headache.</p> + +<p>On the better streets the houses were tight shut<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> to keep out the heat; +but the doors and windows of the tenements were open, and Rosie could +see the inside of untidy rooms where lackadaisical women lounged about +and dirty, whiny children played and wrangled. Hitherto Rosie's thrifty +little soul had sat in hard judgment on the inefficient +tenement-dwellers, but today she looked at them with a sudden +tenderness.</p> + +<p>Poor souls, perhaps if all were known they would not be altogether to +blame. Perhaps they, too, had once longed to give their babies the +chance of life that all babies should have. Perhaps it was their failure +in this, through poverty and ignorance, that was the real cause of their +apathy and indifference. Rosie felt that she was almost going that way +herself. Then, too, the husbands of many of these women were selfish and +brutal; and surely it was enough to break a woman's spirit to have the +man she had loved and trusted turn on her like a fiend. Rosie knew!</p> + +<p>Not that she herself was angry any longer with George Riley. Goodness, +no! It wasn't a question of anger. She simply had no feeling for him one +way or another. How could she, when it was as if the part of her heart +he had once occupied had been cut out of her with a big, bloody knife! +She merely regarded him now as she would any stranger. She would be +polite to him—she tried always to be polite to every one—polite, yes; +but nothing more. So when she handed him his supper-pail that evening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +at the corner, she said, "Good-evening." Common politeness required that +much, but she did not feel that it required her to hear or to understand +his plaintive, "Aw, now, Rosie!" as she turned from him.</p> + +<p>No! Without doubt all that should ever again pass between them was, +"Good-morning" or "Good-evening." And it was all right that it should be +so. She wouldn't have it otherwise if she could. She told herself this +as she walked home, repeating it so often that she quite persuaded +herself of its truth. Yet, when Terry happened upon her unexpectedly a +few moments later, he looked at her in surprise.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Rosie? What you cryin' about?"</p> + +<p>"N-nuthin'," Rosie quavered. "I—I guess I'm worried about Geraldine."</p> + +<p>"Aw, don't you worry about Geraldine," Terry advised kindly. "This +weather's got to break soon and then Geraldine'll be all right."</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +<a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXI</span><br /> +<br /> +THE STORM</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Terry</span> was right. The change came the very next afternoon. Rosie had +finished her papers and was on her way home when suddenly the wind rose +and great masses of black storm-clouds came driving across the sky. +Thunder rumbled, lightning crackled, and in a few minutes rain came +swishing down in great long, splashy drops.</p> + +<p>Instead of running for shelter, Rosie obeyed the impulse of the moment +and stood where she was. She clutched a lamp-post to keep from being +blown away, and then, turning her face to the sky, let the sweet, +comforting rain wash down upon her and soak her through and through.</p> + +<p>It was like a great, cool, refreshing shower-bath: it washed the dusty +earth clean once again; it brought back a crispness to the air; it +loosened the nervous tension under which all living things had been +straining for days.</p> + +<p>The clouds broke as suddenly, almost, as they had gathered. Watching +them, Rosie sighed and shivered. "Oh, but that was nice!" Her hair was +plastered over her head in loose, wet little ringlets, and her clothes +hung tightly about her body. When<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> she walked, her old shoes oozed and +gurgled with water. She hurried home; yes, actually hurried, for it was +cool enough to hurry; and besides, her wet clothes were beginning to +chill her.</p> + +<p>Janet McFadden met her with shining eyes. "Oh, Rosie, what do you think? +She's asleep! And she's just took her bottle, too—all of it, without +waking up! Oh, I'm so happy!"</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at Janet affectionately. "You've been awful good, Janet, +helping me this way."</p> + +<p>"Good—nuthin'!" Janet scoffed. "Aren't you paying me good money?... +But, Rosie, listen here about Geraldine: I wouldn't be a bit surprised +if things'd be all right now. Those old teeth are certainly through. I +let her bite my finger on both sides, just to see."</p> + +<p>Perhaps Janet was right. Perhaps things were arranging themselves. +Rosie's heart sang a tremulous little song of happiness as she rubbed +herself dry and put on fresh clothes. The world wasn't such a bad place +after all, and the people in it weren't so bad, either. There was +Janet—good, kind Janet—and Terry, and nice old George Riley—Rosie +stopped short to scowl at herself in amazement. Then she repeated, +defiantly, <em>nice old George Riley</em>. For he <em>was</em> nice! And he always had +been nice, too! What if he had forgotten himself once? Hadn't other +people as well? Hadn't everybody, Rosie herself included, been crazy +with the heat?</p> + +<p>As Rosie looked at things now her only surprise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> was that George hadn't +forgotten himself oftener! Come to think of it, he had kept his temper +better than any one else in the family.... Dear old George! Rosie wanted +to put her arms about his neck that instant and tell him how much she +loved him.</p> + +<p>Her first way of doing this was by saying to him as she handed him his +supper-pail at six o'clock: "Oh, Jarge, what do you think? Geraldine's +been asleep all afternoon!" This was a greeting very different from a +cold, "Good-evening, Jarge," and George would understand the difference.</p> + +<p>He did. His face beamed with understanding. "I'm awful glad, Rosie; +honest I am!" Then as he ran back to his car he called out: "Rosie, wait +up for me tonight. I've got something to tell you—something fine!"</p> + +<p>"All right, Jarge, I will!" Rosie spoke with all her old-time +enthusiasm, and waved him a frantic farewell.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +<a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXII</span><br /> +<br /> +A CHANCE FOR GERALDINE</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">After</span> finishing her household duties and preparing Geraldine's last +bottle, Rosie had nothing more to do but to enjoy the cool of the +evening with the rest of the family. They were seated on the little +front porch, Mrs. O'Brien and Jamie on chairs and Terence on the porch +steps. Rosie took her place opposite Terence to await the arrival of +George Riley.</p> + +<p>In good time he came, bursting with his bit of news. "Hello, Rosie! +Hello, everybody!" he called out before he was inside the gate. He had a +letter in his hand which he waved excitedly in Rosie's face.</p> + +<p>"See this, Rosie? It's from mother; and what do you think? You and +Geraldine are to go out to the country for two weeks and maybe three! +What do you say to that?"</p> + +<p>For a moment Rosie had nothing to say. Then she gasped: "Why, Jarge, +what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"And you're to start tomorrow, Rosie, on the eleven o'clock train, and +dad'll be at the station to meet you. You'll know him 'cause he looks +just like the farmers in the Sunday papers, with a big<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> straw hat and +thin whiskers. And he drives an old white horse—Billy's his name."</p> + +<p>"Mercy on us, Jarge Riley, how you talk!" Mrs. O'Brien leaned forward in +excitement. "What's this ye're sayin'?"</p> + +<p>George laughed and started over again. "You see, Mis' O'Brien, Rosie and +me was talking the other day about babies and the country, and then +Geraldine began crying and I thought to myself, 'Well, I'll just write +to mother and see.' I wrote that morning, and here's the answer. The +postman gave it to me as I was starting out this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"That's it, is it?" Mrs. O'Brien seemed to understand perfectly. To +Rosie, however, the news still sounded too good to be true.</p> + +<p>"Jarge, do you mean your mother has invited Geraldine and me out to the +country for a couple o' weeks?"</p> + +<p>"Sure, that's what I mean. And you're to start tomorrow——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jarge, and can Geraldine sleep on the upstairs porch where the +breeze always blows and they's no mosquitoes or flies?"</p> + +<p>"O' course she can, and you can, too!"</p> + +<p>Rosie was laughing and crying together. "Do you hear that, Ma? She's +going to have a chance to sleep and get back her strength and then +she'll be able to pull over this horrible teething time, and then she +won't—she won't have to die!"</p> + +<p>Rosie put her arms about George's neck and covered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> his cheek with tears +and kisses. Then suddenly she paused.</p> + +<p>"But, Jarge, I don't know whether I can go! What about my papers?"</p> + +<p>George laughed. "Aw, let the papers go blow! Anyway, can't Janet +McFadden take them?"</p> + +<p>Rosie appealed to Terry. "Can she, Terry?"</p> + +<p>Terry nodded. "Sure she can. Don't you worry about those papers. Me and +Janet'll get on all right. You take Geraldine and skip off and stay away +as long as Mis' Riley wants you."</p> + +<p>George spread out his hands. "So you see, Rosie, everything's arranged. +You're to start tomorrow on the eleven——"</p> + +<p>"But, Jarge, wait a minute! We can't start tomorrow 'cause our things +aren't ready. A whole lot of Geraldine's clothes and mine, too, got to +be washed."</p> + +<p>"Can't you take 'em with you and wash 'em in the country?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jarge!" The suggestion was evidently a horrible one, for Mrs. +O'Brien and Rosie spoke together.</p> + +<p>George looked troubled. "But, Rosie, you got to start tomorrow. Didn't I +tell you that dad and Billy are going to drive down to meet you?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien stood up. "Make your mind easy, Jarge. Rosie'll be ready on +time. I'll go in this minute and do that washin' now, and the things'll +be all dry and ready for ironin' by early mornin'."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>Rosie gasped. "Why, Ma, it's going on ten o'clock!"</p> + +<p>"Rosie dear, I don't care what o'clock it's going on. If it's the last +mortal thing I ever do for you, I'm going to do that washin' tonight, +for, if I do say it, ye're the best child that ever trod shoe-leather."</p> + +<p>Jamie O'Brien's tilted chair came down on the porch floor with a thud, +while Jamie remarked solemnly: "You're right, Maggie; she is!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien moved toward the door. "Come on, Rosie dear, and help me +gather the things."</p> + +<p>Rosie started up, then paused to glance from one to another of them. In +the soft glow of the summer night she could see that they were all +looking at her with the same expression of love and tenderness. Rosie +choked. "I don't see why—everybody's—so kind—to me!"</p> + +<p>She turned back to George. "And I've been just horrible to you, Jarge! +You'll forgive me, won't you? I guess it was the weather."</p> + +<p>"Aw, go on!" George spoke with a gruffness that deceived nobody. "I +guess it's been the weather with all of us!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +<a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXIII</span><br /> +<br /> +HOME AGAIN</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">George</span> Riley protested vigorously: "But I tell you she's only a little +girl and she's got a baby and a big basket and I don't know how many +other things and some one's just got to help her!"</p> + +<p>With anxious headshakes Terence and Janet McFadden corroborated all +George Riley said, but the gatekeeper was firm. "Only passengers this +side the fence," he repeated.</p> + +<p>So the three friends had to wait while the long train slowly disgorged. +Terence stood guard on one side <a name="of" id="of"></a> <ins title="inserted of">of</ins> the gate, George Riley on the +other, while Janet pressed a tense searching face through the bars of +the high division fence. The first arrivals were the dapper quick young +men with new leather bags and walking-sticks who, in their eagerness to +arrive, always drop off a train before it stops. After them came more +men and the more agile of the women passengers. Then the general rush +and crush: the fussy people laden down with parcels; old ladies +struggling to protect their small handbags from the assaults of porters; +distracted mothers jerking their broods hither and thither; middle-aged +men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> murmuring to wives and daughters, "No rush! No rush! Plenty of +time!"</p> + +<p>"Maybe she missed the train!" Janet McFadden suggested tragically.</p> + +<p>The crush subsided, the last stragglers passed through the gate, and +then, just as Janet remarked gloomily, "Well, I was perfectly sure she +wasn't coming!" a little girl with a baby in her arms alighted from a +coach far down the track and stood where she was while the conductor +piled the ground about her with boxes and parcels and baskets +innumerable.</p> + +<p>"There she is! There she is!" Janet and Terence cried out together.</p> + +<p>The gatekeeper looked at them a little less sternly. "Well, I guess you +can come in now."</p> + +<p>Janet dashed through the gate with her arms raised high, calling out a +joyful "Rosie! Rosie!" George Riley and Terence followed close on her +heels, and in a moment Rosie and the baby were enveloped in a cloud of +hugs and kisses.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Rosie gasped, "but it's nice to be back! And I'm so glad to see +you all!... Here, Jarge, you take that heavy box and be awful careful. +It has jelly in it and canned fruit and I made them all myself, too! +Your mother taught me how.... You take the big basket, Terry. That's our +clothes. And I think you can take the basket of vegetables in the other +hand. Janet'll take that bundle, won't you, Janet? They's two dressed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +chickens in it and I plucked them myself, too. Mis' Riley showed me how. +And you take the shoe-box, Janet. It's full of cookies. Hold it straight +so's not to break them.... I'll take that last basket in my other hand. +You can't guess what's in it, can they, Geraldine? It's Geraldine's +little pussy cat! We just couldn't leave it, could we, baby? Geraldine +named it herself. She named it Jarge."</p> + +<p>"After me, I suppose," George said, and they all laughed as if this were +a mighty fine joke.</p> + +<p>"Now are we ready?" Rosie asked, making a quick count of bundles and +baskets. "I'm not leaving anything, am I?"</p> + +<p>George groaned. "I should hope not! Tell you one thing: I can't carry +any more. Say, Rosie, what have you filled your jelly glasses with? +Rocks?"</p> + +<p>This was another fine joke and it carried them out of the station and +all the way to the cars.</p> + +<p>"Now watch me play the Rube," George whispered with a wink. When the +conductor came for their fares, George fumbled in his pocket, counted +the change laboriously, then asked for an impossible transfer. The +conductor tried patiently to explain, at which George slapped him on the +shoulder and roared out: "Aw, go on! I'm a railroad man myself!" At this +everybody laughed and the conductor and George became friends on the +spot.</p> + +<p>At the home corner, small Jack was waiting and, before Rosie was fairly +off the car, he was calling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> out excitedly: "Hello, Rosie! Hello! What +did you bring me from the country?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you darling Jackie! I'm so glad to see you!" Rosie kissed him on +both cheeks, then answered his question. "A little turtle! It's in a box +at the bottom of the vegetable basket that Terry's carrying."</p> + +<p>Jack danced up and down in delight. "Oh, Rosie, can't I have it now? +Please!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Jackie, you must wait till we get home."</p> + +<p>"Aw, Rosie, all right for you!" Jack looked at her reproachfully, then +shouted out: "Come on! Come on! Let's hurry home!"</p> + +<p>At home Mrs. O'Brien and Jamie were waiting for them with outstretched +arms.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Rosie," her mother exclaimed, with fluttering hands and streaming +eyes; "I'm that glad to see you, I'm weepin'! And will ye look at wee +Geraldine as fat and smilin' as a suckin' pig! Ah, Geraldine darlint, +come to yir own ma!"</p> + +<p>Jamie O'Brien, less demonstrative than his wife, patted Rosie's head +gently. "It's mighty glad I am to have you back. Why, do you know, +Rosie, since you've been gone there hasn't been a soul in the house to +hand me a pipe of an evening!"</p> + +<p>"You poor old Dad!" Rosie began sympathetically. She would have said +more but small Jack interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Now, Rosie, give me my turtle! You promised you would!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>"Of course I did," Rosie acknowledged, "and I'll get it for you right +now. Here, Terry, let me have the vegetable basket." Rosie thrust her +hands among the onions and cabbages and drew out a small pasteboard box +generously pierced with air holes.</p> + +<p>"Here it is, Jackie dear."</p> + +<p>Jack pulled off the string, tore open the box, and gaped in wide-eyed +delight. "Oh, Rosie, thanks! thanks! It's a beaut!" For one moment mere +possession was enough, on the next came an overpowering desire to +exhibit his treasure before an admiring and envious world.</p> + +<p>"Say, Rosie, I got to run down and see Joe Slattery. I'll be back in a +minute."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien put out a detaining hand. "No, you won't be going down to +see any Joe Slattery! Dinner's ready and you'll be comin' in with the +rest of the family this minute. Come along, Rosie dear."</p> + +<p>Rosie paused. "Can't we keep Janet, Ma? Is there enough?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head emphatically. "Sure there's enough and, if +there ain't, we'll make it enough."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Mis' O'Brien, but I don't believe I better stay." Janet spoke +regretfully. "You know my mother ain't very well these days and I don't +like to leave her alone too long."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>"Why, Janet!" Rosie looked at her friend in sudden concern. "Is your +mother sick?"</p> + +<p>Janet shook her head. "I don't know what's the matter with her. It seems +like the hot weather and the work and the worry have been too much for +her. But I'll be back, Rosie, at three o'clock for our papers. I got two +new customers, didn't I, Terry? And, Rosie, what do you think? Terry +gave me an extra nickel for each of them."</p> + +<p>Janet started off and Mrs. O'Brien exclaimed: "Now, then, for dinner! +All of yez!"</p> + +<p>"See you later, Rosie," George Riley remarked, opening the door of his +own room.</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien called after him excitedly: "Why, Jarge lad, where's this +you're going? Aren't you sitting down with the rest of us?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't more than had my breakfast," George explained; "and I think I +better get in a little nap before I start out on my next run." He nodded +to Rosie, smiled, and shut his door.</p> + +<p>"Poor Jarge!" Mrs. O'Brien threw sympathetic eyes to heaven and sighed.</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at her mother quickly. "Is there anything the matter with +Jarge?"</p> + +<p>"Poor fella!" Mrs. O'Brien went on in the same lugubrious tone. "He's as +honest as the day and I'm sure I wish him every blessing under heaven. +Never in me life have I liked a boarder as much as I like Jarge. He's no +trouble at all, at all, and it was mighty kind of his mother inviting +you and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> Geraldine to the country. No, no, Rosie, you must never make +the mistake of supposing I'm not fond of Jarge!"</p> + +<p>"Ma," Rosie begged; "tell me what's the matter!" She stopped suddenly +and two little points of steel came into her blue eyes. "Is it Ellen? +Has she been doing something to him again?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked grieved. "Why, Rosie, I'm surprised at you—I am +that, to hear you talk that way about your poor sister Ellen. And such a +bit of news as I've got about Ellen, too! Sit down now and, when I serve +you, I'll tell you."</p> + +<p>There was no hurrying Mrs. O'Brien and Rosie, knowing this, said no +more. At heart she gave a little sigh. It was as if a shadow were +overcasting the bright joy of her home-coming. She had arrived so full +of her own happiness that she had failed to see any evidence of the care +and worry which, she realized now, had plainly stamped the faces of her +two dearest friends. Poor Janet McFadden! For one reason or another it +had always been poor Janet. And now, apparently, it was to be poor +George Riley as well.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +<a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXIV</span><br /> +<br /> +GEORGE TURNS</h2> + + +<p class="noi">"<span class="smcap">Now!</span>" Everything was on the table and there was no further excuse for +Mrs. O'Brien's not seating herself. She dropped into a chair and beamed +upon Rosie triumphantly. "And just to think, Rosie dear, that you don't +yet know about Ellen! Ellen's got a job! She's starting in on eight +dollars a week and she's to go to ten in a couple of weeks if she's +satisfactory. And you know yourself that twenty dollars is nothing for a +fine stenographer to be getting nowadays. And twenty a week means eighty +a month and eighty a month means close on to a thousand a year! Now I do +say that a thousand a year is a pretty big lump of money for a girl like +Ellen to be making!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien's enthusiasm was genuine but scarcely infectious. Terence +jerked his head toward Rosie with a dry aside: "She started work +yesterday on a week's trial."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked at her son reprovingly. "Why, Terry lad, how you +talk! On trial, indeed! As if a trial ain't a sure thing with a girl +that's got the fine looks and the fine education that Ellen's got!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>"Fine education—rats! I bet she knows as much about stenography as a +bunny!"</p> + +<p>His mother gazed on him offended and hurt. "Since you're such a wise +young man, Mister Terence O'Brien, perhaps you'll be telling us how much +you know about it, yourself."</p> + +<p>Terry's answer was prompt: "Not a blamed thing! But I tell you what I do +know: I know Ellen, and you can take it from me she's a frost."</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed plaintively. "But where does Jarge come in? What's the +matter with Jarge."</p> + +<p>Terence answered her shortly: "Oh, nuthin'. Ellen only played him one of +her little tricks last week and he's mad."</p> + +<p>"And I must say," Mrs. O'Brien supplemented, "Jarge does surprise me the +way he keeps it up. After all, Ellen's only a young girl and he ought to +remember that every young girl makes a mistake now and then."</p> + +<p>"What mistake did she make this time?" Rosie spoke as quietly as she +could.</p> + +<p>"It's a long story," her mother said. "Since you've been gone she met a +fella named Finn, Larry Finn, and we all thought him very nice, he was +that polite with his hair always brushed and shiny and smooth. He had a +good job downtown——"</p> + +<p>"You know his kind, Rosie," Terry interposed; "a five dollar a week +book-keep—silk socks but no undershirt. Oh, he was a great sport! Ellen +was crazy about him."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>"Terence O'Brien, have ye no manners to be takin' the words out of yir +own mother's mouth! Now hold yir tongue while I explain to Rosie." +Terence subsided and Mrs. O'Brien started in afresh: "Well, as I was +saying, this Finn fella took a great fancy to Ellen and was coming +around every night to see her. He took her to the movies and gave her +ice-cream sodas and they were getting on fine. Then last week he was +going to take her to the Twirler Club's Annual Ball."</p> + +<p>"The Twirlers' Ball!" Rosie looked at her mother questioningly.</p> + +<p>That lady waved a reassuring hand. "Oh, the ball was all right this +year—perfectly nice and decent. Ellen found out about it beforehand. +Not like last year! No drunks was to be allowed on the floor and none of +them disgraceful dances. Oh, if it had been like last year, I'd never +have consented to Ellen's going! You know that, Rosie!"</p> + +<p>"Huh!" grunted Terry.</p> + +<p>His mother paid no heed to him. "As I was saying, Rosie, the night +before the ball, Larry had to come excusing himself because they had +just told him he would have to stay working till all hours the next +night. So there was poor Ellen, who might have had her pick a week or +two earlier, left high and dry at the last moment. I tell you, Rosie, it +would have wrung your heart to see the poor girl's disappointment. A +girl of less spirit would have given up, but not Ellen. Ellen was going +to that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> ball and you know how firm Ellen is once she makes up her mind. +So she just asked Jarge Riley to take her."</p> + +<p>"Ma! Do you mean to say she had the cheek to ask poor Jarge after the +way she's been treating him all these months!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, ah, don't look at me that way, Rosie! Of course I mean it. Why +shouldn't she ask him? He's a nice fella and, besides that, he's a +friend of the family."</p> + +<p>"Say, Terry, what do you know about that?" Rosie appealed to her brother +sure that he, at least, would understand the humiliation she felt both +at Ellen's manœuvre and at their mother's calm acceptance of it.</p> + +<p>Terry did understand and gave her the sympathy of a quick nod and a +short laugh. "What do you expect? You know Ellen."</p> + +<p>"Well, all I got to say is: it's a shame!" Tears of indignation stood in +Rosie's eyes. "She treats him like a dog and then, when it suits her, +she makes use of him. It's an outrage—that's what it is! I suppose he +went, of course. Poor Jarge is so easy."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head. "Sure he went. He didn't want to at first +because he didn't like Ellen mixing up with the Twirlers. When she +insisted, he said, all right, he'd go."</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" Rosie asked.</p> + +<p>"All!" echoed her mother. "Bless your heart, no! It's hardly the +beginning!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>Rosie sighed.</p> + +<p>"Aw, Ma," Terry protested, "look at you! You're tiring Rosie all out and +it's only her first day home. Why don't you spit it out quick?"</p> + +<p>"Terry, Terry, that's not a nice way to talk, telling your poor ma to +spit it out! Shame on you, lad, for using such a word!"</p> + +<p>"Well, what happened at the ball?" Rosie begged.</p> + +<p>"I was coming to that, Rosie dear, when Terry interrupted me. As I was +saying, who showed up at the ball quite unexpected-like but Larry Finn. +When Ellen saw Larry she turned to Jarge and says to him that, if he +wanted to go home early, he needn't wait for her, that Larry would take +care of her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ma!" Rosie's eyes grew bright and her cheeks a deeper pink. "Do you +mean to say after letting poor Jarge take her and pay her admission she +turned around and treated him like that!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien lifted disclaiming hands. "Mind now, I'm not trying to +defend Ellen, but I do say she's only a young girl and young girls make +mistakes now and then."</p> + +<p>"Well,"—Rosie tried to speak quietly—"what did Jarge do?"</p> + +<p>"What did Jarge do? Something awful! Now remember, Rosie dear, I'm not +trying to run Jarge down. He's a nice fella and he's a kind fella and +I've never had a boarder that was so easy to please<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> and, as I've told +you before, it was mighty good of him having his mother invite you and +Geraldine to the country. But I must say he did act something scandalous +that night."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien paused to shake her head impressively and Rosie, in +desperation, appealed to Terence. "Tell me, Terry, what did he do?"</p> + +<p>Terry grinned. "What did he do? Why, he laid for Larry Finn and, when +Larry and Ellen came out, he punched Larry's face for him!"</p> + +<p>"It was something awful!" Mrs. O'Brien again declared. "Every day for a +week poor Larry had to carry a black eye with him down to the office. +And you know yourself the way other men laugh at a black eye. And he's +not been here to see Ellen since and Ellen's awful mad and, besides +that, no one else has been coming, for the word has gone out that +Jarge'll kill any fella that's fool enough to be showin' his face."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's just good for her, too!" Ellen's unexpected plight was the +one thing in the whole situation that gave Rosie any satisfaction. +However, she gloated on it only for a moment. "But about Jarge, +Terry—did he get pulled in that night?"</p> + +<p>Terry shook his head. "No. You see the ball was ending up in a +free-for-all, just like the Twirlers always do, and the cops were so +busy inside that there was no one left to pay any attention to a little +thing like Jarge's scrap."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>"And I must say," Mrs. O'Brien continued, "I'm sorry for that poor Larry +Finn, for it wasn't his fault at all, at all. It was Ellen's own +arrangement."</p> + +<p>"That's so," Rosie agreed. "By rights Ellen's the one that ought to have +got beat up."</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie, I'm surprised to hear you say such a thing and about your +own sister, too!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien's surprise was lost upon Rosie, who was looking intently at +her father. "Say, Dad, what do you think of a girl doing a trick like +that on two decent fellows?"</p> + +<p>Jamie O'Brien, who had said nothing up to this, took a drink of tea, +wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and slowly cleared his +throat. "It's me own opinion, Rosie, it's a very risky game that Ellen's +playing."</p> + +<p>"Risky? It's worse than risky: it's dishonest."</p> + +<p>Rosie started to push back her chair, but her mother stretched out a +detaining hand. "Wait a minute, Rosie. You haven't yet heard what I'm +trying to tell you."</p> + +<p>Rosie's eyes opened wide. "Is there any more?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure there is, Rosie. You've only heard the beginning."</p> + +<p>Rosie dropped back in her chair a little limply. What more could there +be?</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien breathed hard and long; she sighed; she gazed about at the +various members of her family. At last she spoke:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>"I don't know what's come over Jarge since that night. You know yourself +what an easy-going young fella he's always been, never holding a grudge, +always ready to let bygones be bygones. Well, he's never forgiven Ellen +from that night on. He scowls at her like a storm-cloud every time he +sees her and last week, Rosie—why, you'll hardly believe me when I tell +you what he said to her last week. We were all sitting here at the +table: your poor da over there, and Terry in his place, and Jack beside +him, and meself here. Ellen made some thriflin' remark about how silly a +girl is to marry herself to one man when she might be going around +having a good time with half a dozen—nuthin' at all, you understand, +just the way Ellen always runs on, when, before I knew what was +happening, Jarge jumped to his feet and pounded the table until every +dish on it was rattlin'. 'That's how you feel, is it?' says he, glaring +at poor Ellen like a mad bull. 'Well, if that's your little game,' says +he, 'I've been a goat long enough. Not another thing will I ever do for +you, Ellen O'Brien, not another blessed cent will I ever spend on you +until you tell me you'll marry me and set the date. And what's more,' +says he, 'I'll give you one month from today to decide,' says he. 'I'll +be going back to the farm in September,' says he, 'so it's time I knew +pretty straight just where we stand. So no more foolin', me lady,' says +he. 'It's to be yes or no to Jarge Riley and that's the end of it.'"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>"Good +for Jarge! Good for <a name="quote" id="quote"></a><ins title="added closing quotation mark">Jarge!"</ins> +Rosie cried, clapping her +hands in excitement. "He was able for her that time, wasn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Able for her, Rosie? Well, I must say it's a mighty strange way for a +young fella to talk that's courtin' a girl. Your own poor da never +talked that way to me, did you, Jamie dear? I wouldn't have stood it! I +give you me word of honour I wouldn't!"</p> + +<p>Terry chuckled and Rosie, glancing at her meek quiet little father, also +smiled for an instant. Then her face again went grave.</p> + +<p>"How did Ellen take it? Did she tell him once for all she'd never have +him?"</p> + +<p>"Bless your poor innocent heart, no!" Mrs. O'Brien was astonished at the +mere suggestion. "That'd be a strange thing for a girl to tell a man! Of +course, though, it ain't likely that Ellen ever will have him. Jarge is +all right, understand, but take Ellen with her fine looks and her fine +education and it's me own opinion that some of these days she'll be +making a big match. Especially now that she's going around to them +offices downtown where she'll be meeting lots of rich business men."</p> + +<p>"Of course, Ma, that's the way you look at it and the way Ellen looks at +it. Neither of you thinks of poor old Jarge one little bit."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Rosie. I like Jarge and so does Ellen. But you mustn't be +blaming a girl like Ellen for not throwing over a good useful beau like +Jarge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> until she's made sure of some one better. It's fine for Ellen to +have Jarge to fall back on."</p> + +<p>"To fall back on!" Rosie echoed.</p> + +<p>Jamie O'Brien slowly pushed away his chair and cleared his throat. "It's +me own opinion," he announced gravely, "that Jarge is too good for Ellen +by far."</p> + +<p>"You bet he is!" Rosie declared fiercely.</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked hurt and grieved. "I don't see how you can all talk +that way about poor Ellen. Besides his other virtues, you'll soon be +telling me that Jarge is a good-looker!"</p> + +<p>"A good-looker!" Rosie cried. "Ma, how can you talk that way? His looks +are all right and Jarge himself is all right."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien fumbled a moment. "It's not that I meself object to his +looks, understand, but Ellen, being so fine looking herself, is mighty +particular. She likes them big and handsome and stylish and dressy."</p> + +<p>"Like Larry Finn," snickered Terry.</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien pretended not to hear.</p> + +<p>Rosie, with sober quiet face, pushed back her chair and began clearing +the table.</p> + +<p>"No, no, not today, Rosie," her mother insisted. "You're not going to +start right off with dish-washing. You're company for one day at least, +ain't she, Jamie? So take Terry and Jack out in front and tell them +about the country. Jack wants<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> to hear all about the pigs and cows, +don't you, Jackie dear?"</p> + +<p>"Not just now," Jack answered truthfully. "I got to go out and see a +fellow. But thanks for that turtle, Rosie."</p> + +<p>Rosie paused a moment in doubt until her father nodded encouragingly and +Terry, putting an arm about her shoulder, drew her away.</p> + +<p>"I sure am glad to see you home again," he said when they were alone.</p> + +<p>Rosie looked up at him affectionately. "And I'm glad to be home, Terry. +But I'm awful sorry about poor Jarge."</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry about Jarge," Terry advised. "If Ellen did take him it +would be the worst thing that ever happened him."</p> + +<p>"I know, Terry, but I can't bear to have him so unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Well, take it from me, he'd be unhappier if he got Ellen."</p> + +<p>Rosie paused a moment. "Say, Terry, is she worse since she's got a job?"</p> + +<p>Terry answered shortly: "She's the limit! She's making a bigger fool +than ever of ma. Wait till you see her tonight."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to see her. She always rubs me the wrong way and makes me +say things I don't want to say. But I do want to see poor old Jarge.... +Say, Terry, don't it beat all the way a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> sensible fellow like Jarge +goes crazy over a girl like Ellen? How do you account for it?"</p> + +<p>Terry shook his head. "Search me."</p> + +<p>"They always do," Rosie continued.</p> + +<p>"Well, I tell you one thing, Rosie: I be blamed if ever I fall in love +with a girl that ain't nice!" Fourteen years old looked out upon the +world firmly and resolutely. "Not on your life!"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't either, Terry, if I was you! 'Tain't sensible!" And twelve +years old shook her head sagely.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +<a name="XXV" id="XXV"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXV</span><br /> +<br /> +DANNY AGIN ON LOVE</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">At</span> three o'clock Janet appeared and Rosie and she started out together. +Rosie had been gone only three weeks but, in that short time, changes +had come about, events had occurred, which had altered irrevocably the +face of her little world. Within the limits of her own short paper route +the whole cycle of existence had turned. Life had been ushered in, life +had passed out, and that closest of human pacts which is the promise of +life to succeeding generations had been entered into.</p> + +<p>Janet McFadden was voluble. "It turned out to be twins at the +Flannigans, Rosie, and they just had an awful time. The doctor said that +poor Mis' Flannigan was too hard-worked before they came and that's why +they're so weak and sickly. Ain't it just tough the way poor little +babies have to pay up for things like that?... And you know about Jake +Mullane dying last week, don't you? It was sunstroke and I suppose he +had been drinking and he just went that quick. They certainly had a +swell funeral with six carriages and plumes and tassels on the horses +and Lucy and Katie and even the baby dressed in black. But doesn't it +kind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> of scare you, Rosie, to think of a big strong man like Jake being +dead and buried before you can turn around?... And, say, Rosie, I do +wish you had been here to see the wedding! It was just beautiful! Bessie +had a veil and pink roses and smilax and Ed Haskins hired three +carriages for the day. There were white ribbons on the whips and little +white bows behind the horses' ears. Maybe you think they didn't look +swell! They rode around town from ten o'clock in the morning until +midnight. Jarge Riley saw them coming home and he says they were lying +all over each other fast asleep. I'm not surprised at that, are you? +Bessie's in her own little flat now. It isn't any bigger than a soap-box +but she's got it all fixed up and pretty. She took me through and showed +me her dishes and everything. They furnished on twenty-five dollars down +and a dollar a week for a year. I guess Ed Haskins is going to be a good +provider all right...."</p> + +<p>Janet chatted on, pausing only to let people greet Rosie. Rosie's +progress that afternoon was something of a reception. Every one who saw +her stopped to call out: "Back again, Rosie? Awful glad to see you!" or, +"Hello, kid! How's the country?" It gave Rosie the very pleasant feeling +that she had been missed during her absence.</p> + +<p>At the end of the route when they came to Danny Agin's cottage, they +found old Mary Agin near the gate, busied over her flowers. At sight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> of +Rosie, she stood up, tall and gaunt, and held out welcoming hands.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Rosie dear, it's glad I am to see you! And himself will be glad as +well when he hears you're back." Mrs. Agin was an undemonstrative old +woman but she bent now and kissed Rosie on the forehead.</p> + +<p>"How is Danny, Mis' Agin?" Rosie asked. "Is he pretty well?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty well, do ye say? Ah, Rosie—" and Mary Agin paused while her +eyes half closed as if in pain.</p> + +<p>"I forgot to tell you," Janet whispered; "Danny's been awful sick."</p> + +<p>"And for two weeks," Mary Agin said, "the great fear was on me day and +night that he'd be shlippin' away and me left a sad lonely old woman +with nobody to talk to but the cat.... Will ye come in and see him, +Rosie? The sight of you will do him a world of good, for he's mighty +fond of you and he's been askin' for you every day. Just run along in +for a minute and say 'Howdy.' Janet'll wait out here with me."</p> + +<p>Rosie found Danny propped up at the bedroom window. The colour of his +round apple cheeks had faded, their plumpness had fallen in, but on +sight of Rosie the twinkle returned to his little blue eyes and he +raised a knotted rheumatic hand in welcome.</p> + +<p>"Is it yourself, Rosie O'Brien? Come over and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> give an old man a kiss +and tell him you're glad he's not dead yet."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Danny, don't talk that way," Rosie pleaded. She kissed his cheek, +which was rough with a stubby growth of beard, then stood for a moment +with her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>"It's the merest chance that ye find me here," Danny said; "but now that +I am here I suppose I'll stay on awhile longer. But I almost got off, +Rosie. 'Twas Mary that pulled me back. Poor girl, she couldn't stand the +thought of not having some one to scold. 'Twould be the death of her." +Danny blinked his eyes and chuckled.</p> + +<p>"Danny, you oughtn't to talk that way about poor Mis' Agin!" Rosie shook +her head vigorously. "She loves you, Danny, you know she does!"</p> + +<p>"To be sure," Danny agreed. "'Whom the Lord loveth, He chases,' and Mary +has been chasin' me these forty years. But she's a good woman, +Rosie—oh, ho, I never forget that!" Danny paused a moment, then added +with a wicked little grin: "And if I was to forget it, she'd be on hand +herself to remind me of it!"</p> + +<p>As always, when they were alone, Danny was a good deal of the naughty +small boy saying things he should not say, and Rosie a good deal of the +helpless shocked young mother begging him to mind his manners. She +looked at him now sadly and yearningly. "Oh, Danny, I don't see how you +can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> talk that way and poor Mis' Agin's just been nursing you night and +day."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" scoffed Danny. "Take me word for it, Rosie, when ye've been +married forty years, ye'll expect to be nursed night and day and no back +talk from any one. But, for love of Mike, darlint dear, let's talk of +something else! I've had nuthin' but Mary for the last couple of weeks. +Not another face have I seen and ye know yourself that Mary's face was +niver intinded for such constant use!"</p> + +<p>Rosie gasped and swallowed and tried hard to find some fitting reproof. +Failing in this she sought to distract her friend from further +indiscretions by changing the subject. "Hasn't Janet been in to see you, +Danny?"</p> + +<p>"Janet?" Danny spoke as though with an effort to recall the name. "Yes, +I suppose Janet has been in. I dunno."</p> + +<p>"Danny, I don't see how you could forget."</p> + +<p>"I don't forget but I don't just exactly remember."</p> + +<p>"Danny, you're always saying things like that and I don't know what you +mean. Either you remember or you don't remember and that's all there is +to it." Rosie looked at him severely. "I don't think it's a bit nice of +you to pretend not to remember Janet. She's my dearest friend and +besides that she's a very nice girl."</p> + +<p>Danny agreed heartily: "Oh, Janet's a fine girl—she is that! In +fact"—and Danny paused to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> make Rosie a knowing wink—"she might very +well be Mary's own child. Just look at the solemn face of her that hurts +when she laughs!"</p> + +<p>"Danny, Danny, you mustn't talk that way, and you wouldn't either if you +knew the hard time poor Janet has at home!"</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't I now? Don't I know the hard time poor Mary Agin has at home +and don't I say the same of her? Rosie, take me word for it, there are +some women are born for a hard time. They like it. Since Mary's been +waiting on me, hand and foot, she's been a happy woman. In the old days +when I was a spry, jump-about kind of man, making good money and no odds +from any one, Mary was a sad complainin' creature, always courtin' +disaster and foreseein' trouble. And look at her now: with a penny in +her pocket where she used to have a dollar and a cripple in a chair +instead of a wage-earnin' husband, and never a word of complaint out of +her mouth!" Danny ruminated a moment. "The rheumatiz has been pretty +hard on me, Rosie dear, but I tell you it's been the makin' of a happy +woman!"</p> + +<p>Close as they were to each other, Rosie was often in doubt as to the +exact meaning of Danny's little quirks of thought. She looked at him +now, trying to decide whether his remarks deserved reproof or +acceptance. Danny watched her with twinkling amusement. At last he burst +out laughing.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Rosie dear, don't trouble yir pretty little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> head for ye'll never +make it out! And, after all, what does it matter if ye don't? With you, +darlint, the only thing that matters is this: that it's yourself that +cheers a man's heart with your lovin' ways and your sweet pretty face."</p> + +<p>How Danny had worked around to this sentiment, Rosie could not for the +life of her tell. His words, however, suggested a question that called +for discussion.</p> + +<p>"It seems to me, Danny, you think all men like girls with loving ways."</p> + +<p>Danny's answer was prompt: "I do that, Rosie! You can take an old man's +word for it and no mistake."</p> + +<p>Rosie shook her head thoughtfully. "I don't see how you make that out. +Take Ellen now: she hasn't very loving ways; she snaps your head off if +you look at her; but she's got beaux all right—more than any girl on +the street, and poor old Jarge Riley's gone daft over her. Now how do +you make that out?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's a different matter," Danny explained airily. "You see, +Rosie, there be two classes of men, sensible men and fools, and most men +belong to both classes. Now a sensible man knows that a sweet loving +woman will make him a happy home and a good mother to his children. Any +man'll agree to that. So I'm right when I tell you that all men love +that kind of a woman, for they do. But let a bold hussy come along with +a handsome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> face on her and a nasty wicked temper, and before you count +ten she'll call out all the fool there is in a man and off he goes after +her as crazy as a half-witted rooster. Ah, I've seen it time and again. +Many a poor lad that ought have known better has put the halter about +his own neck! Have you ever thought, Rosie dear, of the queer ch'ices +men make when they marry?"</p> + +<p>"Danny, I don't know what you mean."</p> + +<p>Danny's eyes took on a far-away look. "Take Mary and me. For forty years +now I've been wonderin' what it was that married us."</p> + +<p>"Why, Danny!" Rosie's expression was reproachful. "Didn't you love +Mary?"</p> + +<p>"Love her, do you say? Why, of course I loved her! Didn't me knees go +weak at sight of her and me head dizzy? But the question is: why did I +love her or why did she love me? There I was a gay dancing blade of a +lad and Mary a serious owl of a girl that had never footed a jig in her +life and would have died of shame not to have her washin' out bright and +early of a Monda' mornin'. Now what was it, I ask you, that put love +between us?"</p> + +<p>Danny appealed to his young friend as man to man. Rosie, however, was +not a person to grant the purely academic side of any question that was +perfectly clear and matter-of-fact.</p> + +<p>"Why, you loved her, Danny, and she loved you and that's all there was +to it."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>For a moment Danny looked blank. Then he chuckled. "Strange I didn't +think of that before!" His eyes began to twinkle. "I'll wager, Rosie +dear, ye've never lain awake o' nights wondering what it was that made +the world go round, have you now?"</p> + +<p>Rosie's answer was emphatic: "Of course not! I'm not so silly!"</p> + +<p>Danny laughed. "I thought not."</p> + +<p>Rosie went back to serious matters. "But, Danny, I can't understand +about Jarge Riley and Ellen. Why is he so crazy about Ellen?"</p> + +<p>Danny drew a long face. "The truth is, I suppose he loves her."</p> + +<p>"But why does he love her?"</p> + +<p>Danny's eyes opened wide. "Is it yourself, Rosie O'Brien, that's askin' +me why?"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand it at all," Rosie continued. "I've got a mind to +give Jarge a good talking to. He just ought to be told a few things for +his own good."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure he'll listen to you." There was a hint of guile in Danny's +voice but Rosie refused to hear it.</p> + +<p>"He always does listen to me. We're mighty good friends, Jarge and +me.... Yes, I'll just talk to him tonight. I'll put it to him quietly. +Jarge has got lots of sense if only you talk to him right."</p> + +<p>"Of course he has," Danny agreed. "And,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> Rosie dear, I'm consumed with +impatience to hear the outcome of your conference. You won't fail to +stop in and tell me about it tomorrow—promise me that!"</p> + +<p>Rosie promised. She bid her old friend good-bye and left him, her mind +already full of the things she would say to George Riley.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +<a name="XXVI" id="XXVI"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXVI</span><br /> +<br /> +ELLEN</h2> + + +<p class="noi">"<span class="smcap">I don't</span> know what's keepin' poor Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien remarked as the +family gathered at supper that evening. "They're awful busy at them +down-town offices, I'm thinkin'. Ellen was expectin' to be home at six +o'clock sharp but something important must have come in and they need +her. Ah, say what you will, a poor girl's got to work mighty hard these +days."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" grunted Terry.</p> + +<p>There was a slam at the front door, at sound of which Mrs. O'Brien's +face lighted up. "Ah, there she is now, the poor dear!"</p> + +<p>Yes, it was Ellen. She swept at once into the kitchen and stood a moment +glowering on the family with all the blackness of a storm-cloud. Then, +without a word, she flung herself into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Why, Ellen dear," her mother gasped, "what's ailin' you?"</p> + +<p>Beyond twitching her shoulders impatiently, Ellen made no answer.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Ellen?" Rosie spoke formally, in the tone of one not at +all certain as to how her own civility would be received.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>Ellen glanced at her sharply. "Huh! So you're back, are you?"</p> + +<p>"Ellen, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien cried reprovingly, "is that the way you +talk to poor little Rosie and her just in from the country? And she +brought you two nice dressed chickens and a basket of fine fresh +vegetables and a box——"</p> + +<p>Ellen cut her mother short with an impatient, "Aw, Ma, you dry up!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Ellen?" Terry drawled out. "Lost your job?"</p> + +<p>For answer Ellen snatched off her hat and flung it angrily into the +corner.</p> + +<p>"Ellen, Ellen!" Mrs. O'Brien cried. "Your new hat!" She started forward +to rescue the hat, then paused as the significance of Terry's question +reached her understanding. Her fluttering hands fell limp, her face took +on an expression at once scared and appealing. "Oh, Ellen dear, you +haven't lost your job, have you? Don't tell me you've lost your job!"</p> + +<p>Ellen scowled at her mother darkly. "You bet your life I've lost my job! +I wouldn't have staid in that office another day for a thousand dollars! +They're nothing but a set of old grannies—every one of them!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ellen!" Mrs. O'Brien dropped back helplessly into her chair. A look +of overwhelming disappointment settled on her face; her mouth quivered;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +her eyes overflowed. "Oh, Ellen," she repeated, "how does it come that +ye've lost it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I guess you'd have lost it, too!" Ellen glared about the table +defiantly. "Any one would with that old fogy, old man Harrison, worrying +you to death with his old-maidish ways. He thinks people won't read his +old letters if every word ain't spelled just so and every comma and +period put in just right. The old fool! I'd like to know who cares about +spelling nowadays! I did one letter over for him today six times and the +sixth copy he tore up right in front of my face for nothing at all—a +t-h-e-i-r for a t-h-e-r-e and a couple of little things like that. I +tell you it made me hot under the collar and I just up and told him what +I thought of him."</p> + +<p>"Ellen!" Mrs. O'Brien gasped weakly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I did!" Ellen repeated. "I just says to him, 'Since you're so +mighty particular, Mr. Harrison, I don't see why you don't do your own +typing!'" Ellen stood up and, indicating an imaginary Mr. Harrison, +showed her family the pose she had taken.</p> + +<p>"Well," asked Terry, "what did he say?"</p> + +<p>"What did he say? He flew off the handle and shouted out: 'There's one +thing sure: I'll never have you type another letter!' Just that way, as +if I was nothing but an old errand boy! And after I had just done over +his old letter for him six times, too!" Aggrieved and injured, Ellen +appealed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> her father: "Say, Dad, what do you know about that?"</p> + +<p>Jamie O'Brien slowly cleared his throat. "Is that the way they teach you +at the Business College to talk to your employer?"</p> + +<p>The reproof in Jamie's words was entirely lost upon Ellen. She tossed +her head scornfully. "Oh, us girls are on to his kind all right! We give +it to them straight from the shoulder! That's the only way to treat +'em—the fussy old women! Then they respect you!"</p> + +<p>"Ellen, Ellen, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien wailed forlornly, "what makes you +talk that way?"</p> + +<p>Terence drew Ellen back to her story: "Well, Sis, after that, what did +you say and what did he say?"</p> + +<p>Ellen's ill humour was fast disappearing. Under the magic of her own +recital, she was beginning to see herself in a new and flattering light. +Instead of the inefficient stenographer who, a few moments before, had +sought to hide her discomfiture in a bluster of abuse, she was now a +poor deserving working-girl who had been put upon by an unscrupulous +employer. Conscious of her own worth and made courageous by that +consciousness, she had been able, it now seemed to her, to hold her own +in a manner which must excite the admiration of her family.</p> + +<p>"Well, when he used such language to me, I saw all right what kind of a +man he was and I just gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> it to him straight. 'I see what you're +after,' I says to him. 'You think you're going to bounce me before my +week's up and you think I'm so meek that I'll leave without saying a +word! But I just won't!' I says to him. 'You hired me for a week and if +you think you can throw me out without paying me a week's salary, you're +mighty mistaken! I've got a father,' I says to him, 'and he'll make it +hot for you!'"</p> + +<p>Upon Mrs. O'Brien at least the effect of the story was almost +terrifying. "Ellen, Ellen," she wailed, "what makes you talk so? You +didn't really say that to the gentleman, did you?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't, eh?" Ellen tossed her head defiantly. "You just bet I did!"</p> + +<p>"Then what did he say?" It was Terry who again asked the question that +would help the narrative on.</p> + +<p>Ellen smiled triumphantly. "He had nothing more to say to me. He just +called the book-keeper over to him and says: 'Pay this young woman a +week's wages and let her go.' Yes, that was every word he said. Then, +without even looking at me, he turned his back and began sorting the +papers on his desk. Fine manners for a gentleman, I say!"</p> + +<p>Before she finished, every member of the family had looked up in quick +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean," Mrs. O'Brien quavered, "do you mean, Ellen dear, that he +paid you?"</p> + +<p>Ellen glanced at her mother scornfully. "Of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> course I mean he paid me! +Here!" She opened her handbag and exhibited a wad of bills. "One five +and three ones! Pretty good pay for two days' work—what?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien turned devout eyes to heaven. "Thank God, Ellen dear, he +paid you! I was a-fearin' all your hard work was going for nuthin'! +Thank God, you'll be able to start in this week payin' your board like +you intended."</p> + +<p>Ellen looked at her mother coldly. "Say, Ma, what do you think I am? I +told you I'd begin paying three dollars a week as soon as I got a good +steady job. Well, have I got a good steady job? No. In fact, I'm out of +a job. So you'll just have to wait like everybody else."</p> + +<p>"But, Ellen dear,"—Mrs. O'Brien stretched out an appealing, indefinite +hand—"what's this you're saying when you've got the money right there? +It's only Tuesda' now and if you start out bright and early tomorrow +hunting a new job, what with your fine looks and your fine education, +you'll be sure to land one by the end of the week. And then, don't you +see, there won't be any break in your payroll at all."</p> + +<p>Ellen waved her mother airily aside. "Say, Ma, you don't know anything +about it. If you think I'm going to start out again tomorrow morning, +you make a mighty big mistake. I'm going to take a couple of days off, I +am. I think I deserve them. I guess I've earned my living for this week. +Besides,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> I've got some shopping to do. I need a new hat and a lot of +things."</p> + +<p>"A new hat, Ellen? What's this ye're sayin'? Why, ye've not been wearing +this last one a day longer than two weeks. It's a beautiful hat if ye'd +not abuse it." Mrs. O'Brien lifted it carefully from the floor where it +still lay and held it up for general inspection. "Why, Ellen, ye don't +know how becomin' it is to you. Just the other morning, while I was +shelling peas, Jarge Riley says to me——"</p> + +<p>"Just cut out George Riley!" Ellen interrupted sharply. "I don't care +what George Riley says! I'm going to get some decent clothes and that's +all there is about it!"</p> + +<p>Terry grunted derisively. "Say, Rosie, ain't we winners?"</p> + +<p>Ellen flushed, conscious for the first time of Terry's disapproval. She +looked at him angrily, then turned to her mother. "Now, Ma, just listen +to that! He's always nagging at me and you never say a word!"</p> + +<p>"Terry, Terry," Mrs. O'Brien murmured wearily, "why do ye be talkin' +that way of your own sister? The next time she gets a job, I'm sure +she'll begin payin' board the first thing, won't you, Ellen dear?"</p> + +<p>"Say, Ma, you and Ellen are a team." Terry eyed his mother meditatively. +"You take her guff every time. Not a day goes by that she don't pay you +dirt, but you keep on trusting her just the same."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>"Ah, Terry lad, how can you talk so? Perhaps Ellen has made a few +mistakes, but you oughtn't to forget she's your own sister."</p> + +<p>"I don't." Terry spoke shortly and rose from his chair. "Come on, Rosie, +no use hanging around here any longer."</p> + +<p>Rosie hesitated. "I think I'll wait to do the dishes first. Ma's all +tired out."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, and you'll do no such thing!" Mrs. O'Brien declared. "You're +company for today, Rosie, so make the most of it."</p> + +<p>"Ellen will do the dishes, won't you, Ellen dear?" Terry spoke +facetiously with his mother's intonation.</p> + +<p>"Of course Ellen will," Mrs. O'Brien said. "I'm sure she will, for if +she's not working tomorrow she'll not be having to save herself."</p> + +<p>Rosie, willing to accept this assurance, allowed Terry to draw her away +from the kitchen and out to the little front porch. "But you know, +Terry, of course she won't."</p> + +<p>Terry laughed a little grimly. "Of course not!" He paused a moment in +thought. "Say, Rosie, don't it beat all the way she goes along doing +just as she pleases? Hardly any one calls her bluff. I can see just how +it was in that office today. She put up such an ugly fight that they +were glad to shell out an extra five spot that she hadn't begun to earn +just to get rid of her. And look at her here at home. She wouldn't hand +out a nickel to the rest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> of us if we were starving. She'd spend it on +an ice-cream soda for herself."</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed. "I don't mind about us. We can take care of ourselves. But +poor old Jarge Riley, Terry. Living right here with us wouldn't you +suppose he'd get to know her?"</p> + +<p>"Well,"—Terry spoke in a tone somewhat didactic—"you forget one thing, +Rosie: Jarge is in love."</p> + +<p>"But why is he in love?" Rosie persisted.</p> + +<p>Terry shook his head gloomily. "Search me."</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +<a name="XXVII" id="XXVII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXVII</span><br /> +<br /> +ROSIE URGES COMMON SENSE</h2> + + +<p class="noi">"<span class="smcap">Why</span> is he in love?"</p> + +<p>The question kept repeating itself to Rosie as she sat on the porch +steps while day slowly faded and twilight deepened into night. Mrs. +O'Brien and Jamie came out after a time and Rosie talked to them about +the country, telling them of all the marvels of farm and roadside. But +through it all her mind kept reverting to the problem which had met her +so promptly on her return.</p> + +<p>"When you know Mis' Riley," she told her mother, "then you understand +Jarge from start to finish. She's jolly and kind and she'll do anything +in the world for you if she likes you. And, my! how she works! Jarge's +father is all right, but all he does is talk. No matter what there is to +do, he always wants to stop and talk. In the mornings he just nearly +used to drive Mis' Riley and me crazy. I can tell you we were always +busy and he ought to have been, too, and he did used to get real tired +just talking about all he had to do. Of course Grandpa Riley was awful +good to me and Geraldine and I don't like to say anything about him, but +I understand now why Jarge has to save so hard and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> why poor Mis' Riley +has to work so hard. And I know one thing: when Jarge does go back to +the farm and take hold of things, he and his mother'll make that old +farm pay. They're not afraid of hard work, either of them, and they've +both got good sense, too.... Say, Dad, what do you think of Ellen the +way she treats Jarge?"</p> + +<p>"Ellen?" Jamie O'Brien's tilted chair came down with a thud and Jamie +cleared his throat to answer. "How would you want her to be treating +him?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't want her to treat him like a dog! Jarge is too good!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you be worryin' about Jarge," Jamie advised. "It's just as well +for him that Ellen does treat him so." To Rosie this seemed a subject +for further discussion, but not to Jamie. He balanced back his chair and +relapsed into an abstracted silence from which Rosie's protests were +unable to arouse him.</p> + +<p>It had been a long and exciting day and Rosie was tired. If she had not +felt that George would be expecting to see her when he got in from his +run, she would have said good-night early and slipped quietly off to +bed. But George would be expecting her. In the morning they had had very +few words together and Rosie knew that there were a hundred things about +the farm and about his mother that George wished to hear. So she stifled +her yawns and waited.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>Talk flickered and went out. At last Jamie O'Brien tapped his pipe on +the porch rail and, going in, said: "Good-night, Rosie. It's mighty fine +to have you back." In a few moments Mrs. O'Brien followed Jamie and +Terry followed her.</p> + +<p>One by one the street noises grew quiet. Mothers' voices called, +"Johnny!" "Katie!" "Jimmie!" and children's voices answered, "All right! +I'm a-comin'!"; doors slammed; lights began to twinkle in bedroom +windows. Rosie's little world was preparing for sleep. Every detail of +that world was familiar to her as her mother's face. Like her mother's +face, heretofore she had taken it for granted. Tonight, coming back +after a short absence, she saw it anew with all the vividness of fresh +sight and all the understanding of lifelong acquaintance. It was her +world and, with a sudden rush of feeling, she knew that it was hers and +that she loved it. Now that she was back to it, already her weeks in the +country seemed far off and vague.... Had she ever been away?</p> + +<p>George came at last. He looked thin and worn and he seated himself +quietly with none of his old-time gaiety.</p> + +<p>"Well, Rosie," he began, "how does it seem to be back?"</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed. "I had a beautiful time in the country, Jarge, but I'm +glad to be back—honest I am."</p> + +<p>"But don't you miss the quiet of the country?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> I don't believe you'll be +able to sleep tonight with all the noise."</p> + +<p>Rosie laughed. "Jarge, you're like all country people. You think the +country's quiet and it's not at all. It's fearfully noisy! It's like +living on a railroad track! Why, do you know, the first night I was +there, I was hours and hours in going to sleep—I was so scared!"</p> + +<p>"Scared, Rosie? What were you scared about?"</p> + +<p>"The racket that was going on. I didn't know what it was at first. Then +Grandpa Riley came out and told me it was only the locusts and the +tree-toads and the frogs. For a long time, though, I didn't see how it +could be."</p> + +<p>George lay back and laughed with something of his old abandon. "If that +don't beat all! So they scared you, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"And chickens, Jarge! Why, chickens are the noisiest things! If they are +not squabbling with each other, they're talking to themselves! And +ducks—ducks are even worse! Jarge, do you know, I call a street like +this quiet compared to the country!"</p> + +<p>George's laugh grew heartier. "If that ain't the funniest thing I ever +heard!"</p> + +<p>"It's true, Jarge!" Rosie was very serious but her seriousness only +added to George's mirth.</p> + +<p>"All right, kid, have it your own way. But it's kind of a new idea: the +city's quiet and the country's noisy, is that it?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>"Oh, I don't say the city's exactly quiet." Rosie picked her words +carefully. "All I mean is, you don't notice the noises in the city like +you do the noises in the country. The city noises are not such strange +noises."</p> + +<p>"Oh! That's it, is it? I see!" and George slapped his knee in lusty +amusement.</p> + +<p>"Jarge," Rosie began slowly, "there's something I want to talk to you +about."</p> + +<p>"Well, here I am. There'll never be a better time."</p> + +<p>"It's about Ellen, Jarge."</p> + +<p>George's laugh stopped abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I don't like to say anything about her, Jarge, because she's my own +sister...." Rosie paused and sighed. "You're in love with her, Jarge, +aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Rosie, I'm afraid I am. And I'm afraid I've got it bad, too."</p> + +<p>"Jarge dear, tell me one thing: why are you in love with her?"</p> + +<p>George shook his head. "Search me. I don't know."</p> + +<p>"But, Jarge, she ain't the kind of girl you ought to be in love with."</p> + +<p>"That so?" George's voice showed very little interest.</p> + +<p>"Why, you ought to be in love with a nice girl, Jarge—I mean a girl +that would love you and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> pet you and save your money and take good care +of you. That's the kind of girl you want, Jarge."</p> + +<p>"Is it?" George's tone was still apathetic.</p> + +<p>"Sure it is. Now, Jarge, look at the whole thing sensibly. What do you +want with a girl like Ellen? She doesn't think of any one but herself +and all she's after is getting beaux and spending money. What would you +do with her if you had her? Why, she'd clean out your savings in two +weeks, and then where would you be and where would your mother be and +where would the farm be?"</p> + +<p>George sighed heavily. "I suppose you're right, Rosie, but that don't +seem to make any difference. I don't know why I want her, but I do. I +want her so bad I lay awake nights and I ain't never laid awake before +in my life. No use talking, Rosie, it's Ellen or no one for me."</p> + +<p>"But, Jarge dear, why can't you be sensible? You're sensible in other +things."</p> + +<p>"See here, Rosie, you don't know what you're talking about!" George +spoke sharply but not unkindly. "A fellow don't fall in love with a girl +because he wants to or because he ought to or because she'd make him a +good wife. I don't understand why he does; I don't know a thing about +it. He just does and that's all there is to it!"</p> + +<p>"But, Jarge," Rosie persisted, "if he knows it ain't best for him, I +should think he just wouldn't let himself fall in love."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I just tell you a fellow himself has nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> to do with it!" +For a moment George lost his temper, then he laughed a little +sheepishly. "I don't blame you, Rosie, for not understanding. It sounds +terrible foolish and I guess it is foolish. But it's how we're made and +that's all there is about it. Some of these days you'll get caught +yourself and then you'll understand."</p> + +<p>George reached over and gave Rosie's hand a confidential little squeeze. +Rosie did not return the pressure. She even drew her own hand away a +little coldly.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well, Jarge Riley, for you to pretend that falling in +love is so terribly mysterious, but I want to tell you one thing. I know +better! It's as common as onions! Why, everybody does it! I guess I've +seen 'em—out in the parks and on the street and in the cars and +everywhere! And, besides that, I can tell you something else: if they'd +only use a little common sense when they are in love they wouldn't make +such fools of themselves. Yes, Jarge Riley, and you're just the very +person I mean! There you are, wanting to make love to Ellen and what do +you do? The very things that make her laugh at you! If you'd use one +grain of common sense you'd get on with her as well as the rest of the +fellows. But no, says you, a man can't possibly use common sense in +love! Jarge Riley, you're as silly as a chicken and what's more, since +I've been in the country, I know exactly how silly chickens are!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>"Why, Rosie!" George was too much taken back by Rosie's tirade to do +more than gape in helpless astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I mean just what I say!" Rosie assured him severely. "I was sorry for +you at first, but now I don't pity you at all. If you're going to be +stubborn, you don't deserve to be pitied."</p> + +<p>"Well, Rosie, what do you want me to do?"</p> + +<p>George's tone was so conciliatory that Rosie's manner softened. "All I +ask you, Jarge, is to be sensible."</p> + +<p>George sighed and laughed. "Sounds easy, don't it? Now you think it +would be sensible for a farmer like me not to think any more about a +girl like Ellen. That's it, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Rosie answered promptly: "Yes, Jarge, that would certainly be the most +sensible thing you could do."</p> + +<p>"Rosie, that's the one thing I can't do, whether I'd like to or not. I'm +sorry, though, because I don't want you to think I'm only stubborn."</p> + +<p>It was Rosie's turn to sigh. "You're an awful hard person to help, +Jarge. You pretend you're perfectly willing to be sensible, yet the +minute I tell you how you draw back." Rosie sighed again.</p> + +<p>"But at least, Jarge, you might be sensible in other things." She turned +on him with sudden energy. "And do you know, Jarge, if you were sensible +in other things, I think you might easy enough make Ellen like you! Why +not?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>"Ain't I sensible in other things?" George spoke a little plaintively.</p> + +<p>"I should say not! Everything you do gives Ellen another chance to laugh +at you and make fun of you. Take the other night at the Twirlers' dance. +Now if you had gone about that thing right you could have made Ellen and +all the other girls just crazy about you. You needn't think Ellen +wouldn't like to have a beau that can lick everybody in sight. She +would. Any girl would. But all you did was make her mad."</p> + +<p>George groaned. His prowess at the Twirlers' was not a pleasant memory. +When he spoke, his tone was a little sullen. "What is it you want me to +do?"</p> + +<p>"I only want you to act sensible."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, tell me this: how's a born fool to act sensible?"</p> + +<p>"When he don't know how to act sensible himself," Rosie answered, +"there's only one thing for him to do and that is to take the advice of +some one who does know."</p> + +<p>George laughed. "Meaning yourself, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I mean myself. I don't mind saying that I consider myself very far +from a born fool. I'm not a bit ashamed of being sensible. Janet +McFadden always says that I'm not very smart but that I've got lots of +common sense. Danny Agin thinks so, too. He often consults me about +things." Rosie nodded complacently.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>George chuckled. "I'm with Janet and Danny all right. I always did swear +by you, Rosie!"</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you do as I tell you?" Rosie faced him squarely. "It +would be very much better for you!"</p> + +<p>For a moment George looked at her in affectionate amusement. Then his +face grew serious as her own. "All right, Rosie, I will. You're right: I +have made a bad mess of things with Ellen. It couldn't be worse. So +here's my promise: for the rest of the time I'm here, I'll do just +exactly as you say."</p> + +<p>Rosie beamed her approval. "And I promise you, Jarge, you won't be +sorry!"</p> + +<p>In all formality they shook hands over the bargain.</p> + +<p>"Now then," George began briskly, "what's the first thing I'm to do?"</p> + +<p>Rosie hesitated. "I haven't exactly thought it out yet."</p> + +<p>"Huh! So it ain't so awful easy even for you to be sensible!" He peeped +at her slyly.</p> + +<p>"I want to think things over carefully," Rosie explained, "and I want to +ask Danny Agin's advice." George gave a grunt of protest, so Rosie +hastened to add: "Of course I won't use your name. I'll just put the +case to Danny in a sort of general way and, before he guesses what I +really mean, he'll be telling me what I want to know. Oh, I wouldn't +mention your name for anything!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>George chuckled. "I'm sure you wouldn't!" He stood up. "Well, +good-night, kid. It's time for both of us to get to bed. And say, Rosie, +I'm awful glad you're back. I've had a bad time since you've been gone. +Everything's went wrong. Now you're back, I feel better already.... +Good-night."</p> + +<p>They were all glad she was back! In the sunshine of so much +appreciation, Rosie's heart felt like a little flower bursting into +bloom.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +<a name="XXVIII" id="XXVIII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXVIII</span><br /> +<br /> +JANET USES STRONG LANGUAGE</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Night</span> brought back to Mrs. O'Brien her usual serenity. Given a little +time she always worked around to serenity, even after blows such as +Ellen's lost job. The next morning, while George Riley ate his +breakfast, she was able to talk about it without a trace of her first +despair.</p> + +<p>"Have you heard, Jarge, the frightful experience poor Ellen had at that +office? Her boss was one of them unreasonable fussy old men that would +worry any poor girl to death. Ellen stood it for two days and then she +told him she'd just have to give up. They were so awfully sorry to lose +her that they paid her a whole week's wages. I tell her she done quite +right not trying to stick it out under such conditions. 'Twould make an +old woman of her in no time. As I says to her, 'The game ain't worth the +candle. And what's more,' says I, 'what with your fine looks and your +fine education you won't be any time getting another job.' And she +won't. I'm sure of that. She was awfully afraid we'd be blaming her, but +'Make your mind easy,' I says to her. 'You've done just exactly what +your poor da and I would have advised you to do.' Oh,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> I tell you, +Jarge, in these days a poor girl has to mind her P's and Q's or they'll +impose on her! You know that's so, Jarge."</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed. Three weeks had made no change in her mother's character. +Whatever Ellen or any of her children might be guilty of, within +twenty-four hours Mrs. O'Brien would be sure to find them blameless and +even praiseworthy.</p> + +<p>Rosie was glad to see that George Riley, in spite of his infatuation, +was not entirely taken in. He smiled to himself a little grimly. "So +she's lost her job already, has she?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien demurred: "'Tain't quite fair to the poor girl to say she +lost her job. What Ellen done was this: she resigned her position."</p> + +<p>George glanced at Rosie and she, to make sure he understood, wrinkled +her nose and shook her head. "I'll tell you about it sometime," she +remarked carelessly.</p> + +<p>"She's off shopping this morning," Mrs. O'Brien continued. "I told her +not to go back to them offices for a couple of days. She needs a little +rest and once she gets a good steady job goodness knows when she'll ever +again have a moment to herself. So I'm wanting her to get her shopping +done while she can."</p> + +<p>"You see, Jarge," Rosie explained; "she needs a lot of new clothes and +now that she's making money she can buy them herself. She's going to get +a new hat, too. She doesn't like that last new<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> hat." Rosie tried to use +a tone that would sound guileless to her mother and yet tell George all +there was to tell.</p> + +<p>With her mother at least she was successful. "You must remember," Mrs. +O'Brien went on, "a girl in her position has got to dress mighty well or +they'll be taking advantage of her. So I says to her, 'Now, Ellen dear, +just get yourself a nice new hat and anything else you need. Don't mind +any board money this week.' You know, Jarge, she's going to begin paying +three dollars a week regular. Don't you call that pretty fine for a poor +girl who is just starting out in life? You mustn't forget, Jarge, that +all you pay yourself is five dollars a week."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the difference is he really pays it!" Rosie could not resist +stating this fact even at risk of hurting her mother's feelings.</p> + +<p>The risk was a safe one. Mrs. O'Brien only smiled blandly. "'Tis no +difference at all, Rosie dear. Come next week, Ellen'll be really paying +it, too. She gave me her word she would."</p> + +<p>A mother's faith in her offspring is touching and very beautiful. It is +even more: it is as it should be. Nevertheless it is usually wearisome +to outsiders. In this case, Rosie's point of view was that of an +outsider. She stood her mother's eulogy of Ellen as long as she could +and then, to avoid an outburst, she fled. She ventured back once or +twice but not to stay, as Ellen continued to be the theme<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> of her +mother's conversation and George, poor victim, seemed not to realize how +bored he was.</p> + +<p>Rosie began to think that her second day home was in a fair way of being +spoiled. As the morning wore away she found another grievance.</p> + +<p>"Terry," she said, "I don't know what has become of Janet. She promised +to be here first thing this morning. I suppose her father's been beating +her up again."</p> + +<p>"Did you know," Terry asked, "that Dave McFadden got pulled in while you +were away? He was fined ten dollars."</p> + +<p>"Wisht he'd been sent up for ten years!" Rosie declared. "Mis' McFadden +and Janet would be much better off without him!"</p> + +<p>Dear, dear! Taken by and large this poor old world is pretty full of +trouble! Rosie sighed deeply, wondering how she was going to bear the +burden of it all.</p> + +<p>She waited for Janet until afternoon, when it was time for her to go +about her business as paper-carrier. She was sure now that something +serious had happened <a name="Janet" id="Janet"></a><ins title="added to">to</ins> Janet. To the child of a man +like Dave McFadden something serious might happen almost any time. On +the first part of her route Rosie gave herself up to all sorts of +horrible imaginings. Then, in the excitement of a long talk with Danny +Agin on the subject of George Riley, she forgot Janet and did not think +of her again until she reached home.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>Janet was there on the porch awaiting her.</p> + +<p>"Poor Janet's in trouble," Mrs. O'Brien began at once.</p> + +<p>This was evident enough from the expression of Janet's face.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Janet? What's happened?" Rosie put a sympathetic arm about +Janet's shoulder and peered anxiously into her somber eyes.</p> + +<p>"Her poor ma's been took sick," Mrs. O'Brien continued.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Janet, I'm sorry! Is it serious?"</p> + +<p>"Horspital," Mrs. O'Brien announced.</p> + +<p>"Hospital!" Rosie repeated. Then it was serious! "When did it happen, +Janet?"</p> + +<p>"This morning." Janet spoke quietly in a tired colourless voice.</p> + +<p>"Were you at home, Janet?"</p> + +<p>"No. On the street."</p> + +<p>"Did they send for an ambulance?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Did they take you to the hospital, too?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, Janet, what did the doctor say?"</p> + +<p>"He said lots of things."</p> + +<p>"Didn't he say your mother would be all right soon?"</p> + +<p>"He said that depends."</p> + +<p>"What does it depend on, Janet?"</p> + +<p>Janet laughed, a weak pathetic little laugh that had no mirth in it. "He +said she might get well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> again if she didn't have to work or worry any +more. Huh! It's easy to say a thing like that to a poor woman that's got +to work or starve, but it would be a good deal more sensible if they'd +say right out: 'You better go drown yourself!'"</p> + +<p>"Why, Janet!" Mrs. O'Brien's hands went up in shocked amazement.</p> + +<p>"I mean it!" Janet insisted fiercely. "Do you suppose my mother works +like she does because she wants to? I'd like to see that doctor married +to a drunk and have some one say to him: 'Now don't work or worry and +you'll be all right.'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien was much distressed. "Why, Janet dear, you surprise me to +be talkin' so about that poor doctor."</p> + +<p>"The doctor!" Janet turned on Mrs. O'Brien passionately. "I'm not +talking about the doctor! I'm talking about my father!" She paused an +instant, then flung out a terrible epithet which even in the mouth of a +rough man would have been shocking.</p> + +<p>Instinctively Rosie shrank and Mrs. O'Brien raised a startled, +disapproving hand.</p> + +<p>Janet tossed her head defiantly. "I don't care!" she insisted. "It's all +his fault, the drunken brute, and if my mother dies tonight, it'll be +him that's murdered her!" She ended with a sob and hid her face on +Rosie's shoulder.</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien, still scandalised, opened her mouth to speak. But the +right word which would express<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> both reproof and commiseration was slow +in coming, and at last she was forced to meet the difficulty by fleeing +it. "I—I think I must be going in. I think I hear Geraldine. Sit still, +Rosie dear." And then, her heart getting the better of her, she ended +with: "Poor child! She's not herself today! Comfort her, Rosie!"</p> + +<p>Rosie scarcely needed her mother's admonition. "There now, Janet dear, +don't cry! Your mother's going to be all right—I know she is! She's +been sick before and got over it."</p> + +<p>Janet was not a person of tears. She swallowed her sobs now and slowly +dried her eyes. "I'm sorry I used such strong language, Rosie, honest I +am. And before your mother, too! You've got to excuse me. I know it +wasn't ladylike."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, Janet. You really didn't mean it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did mean it," Janet declared truthfully. "If you only knew it, +Rosie, there are lots of times I don't feel a bit ladylike! I often use +cuss words inside to myself. Don't you?"</p> + +<p>No, most emphatically, Rosie did not! She was saved, however, the +necessity of having to acknowledge so embarrassing an evidence of +feminine weakness by Janet's further pronouncement:</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, Rosie, when you come to a place where you want to +smash things up, a good big cuss word just helps an awful lot! Don't you +think so?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>Rosie cleared her throat a little nervously. "Yes, Janet, I suppose it +does."</p> + +<p>"You bet it does! And what's more, women have got just as much right to +use it as men, haven't they?"</p> + +<p>Rosie wanted to cry out: "I don't think they want to! I know I don't!" +but, under Janet's fiery glance, the words that actually spoke +themselves were: "Yes, of—of course they have."</p> + +<p>With the hearty agreement of every one present, there was no more to be +said on that subject. Janet turned to another.</p> + +<p>"Rosie, will you do something for me? Come and stay all night with me. +I'll be so lonely I don't know what I'll do."</p> + +<p>Rosie's heart sank. If she spent the night with Janet, she'd have no +chance to talk to George Riley, for she'd be gone long before he got +home. Besides, there was Dave McFadden, and the thought of sleeping near +him was almost terrifying.</p> + +<p>"But, Janet dear, how about your father?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose he'll come in soused as usual. But you won't be bothered. +I'll get him off to bed before you come and he'll be safe till morning. +Please say you'll come, Rosie. I need you, honest I do."</p> + +<p>That was true: Janet did need her. George Riley would have to wait.</p> + +<p>"All right, Janet. I'll come."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Rosie. I knew you would." Janet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> paused. "And, Rosie, do you +think you could lend me a quarter? I've got to have some money for +breakfast. Mother had a dollar in her pocket but I forgot about it at +the hospital."</p> + +<p>"I haven't a cent, Janet, but I'll raise a quarter somewhere, from Terry +or from dad, and I'll bring it with me tonight."</p> + +<p>Janet stood up to go. "Come about eight o'clock, Rosie."</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at her friend compassionately. "Why don't you stay here for +supper?"</p> + +<p>Janet shook her head. "I'd like to but I don't think I'd better. He +probably won't come home, but he might come and I better be on hand."</p> + +<p>Janet started off slowly and reluctantly. Twice she turned back a face +so woebegone and desolate that it went to Rosie's heart and, after a few +moments, sent her flying for comfort to her mother's ample bosom.</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien gathered her in as if were the most natural thing in the +world. "What is it, Rosie darlint? What's troublin' you?"</p> + +<p>"Ma," she sobbed, "you're well, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Me, Rosie dear, am I well, do you say?" Mrs. O'Brien looked into +Rosie's tearful eyes in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ma, you! I want you to be well—always—all the time! You see, Ma, +Janet's poor mother——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, and is it that that's troublin' you?" Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> O'Brien crooned, +rocking Rosie from side to side as though she were Geraldine. "Don't you +be worryin' your little head about your poor ma. I'm fine and well, +thank God, and your poor da is well, and Terry's well, and Jackie's +well, and poor wee Geraldine is well, and dear Ellen's well, and we're +all——"</p> + +<p>"Ellen!" snorted Rosie, her tears abruptly ceasing to flow and her body +drawing itself away from her mother's embrace.</p> + +<p>"Dear Ellen's well, too," Mrs. O'Brien in all innocence repeated.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know she's well all right!" Rosie declared in tones which even +her mother recognised as sarcastic.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie," Mrs. O'Brien began, "I'm surprised——"</p> + +<p>But Rosie, without waiting to hear the end of her mother's reproach, +marched resolutely off with all the dignity of a high chin and a stiff +military gait.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +<a name="XXIX" id="XXIX"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXIX</span><br /> +<br /> +THE CASE OF DAVE McFADDEN</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Promptly</span> at eight o'clock Rosie reached the tenement where the McFaddens +lived. Janet was on the front steps waiting for her.</p> + +<p>"Shall we sit out here awhile?" Janet said, making place for Rosie +beside herself.</p> + +<p>Rosie hesitated a moment. "Is your father home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. He came in an hour ago. I got him off to bed as soon as I could. +He's asleep now."</p> + +<p>"Are—are you sure he won't wake up and make trouble?"</p> + +<p>Janet laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. We won't hear anything from him till +morning except snorts and groans. I guess I know."</p> + +<p>On the steps of the neighbouring tenements there were groups of people +laughing, talking, wrangling. The electric street lamps cast great +patches of quivering jumping light and heavy masses of deep pulsating +shadow. Janet and Rosie, seated alone, were near enough their neighbours +not to feel cut off from the outside world and yet, in the seclusion of +a dark shadow, far enough away to talk freely on the subject uppermost +in their thoughts.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>"You've never heard me say anything about my father before, Rosie, you +know you haven't." Janet paused to sigh. "Mother never has, either. +We've both always let on that he's all right and we've covered him up +and lied about him and done everything we could to keep people from +knowing how he really treats us. If this hadn't happened to mother, I +wouldn't be talking yet. Say, Rosie, ain't women fools? That's the way +they always act about their own men folks. They're willing to shoot any +other man for nothing at all, but they let on that their own men are +just angels. You know—the way I've always done about dad. But, since +today, seems like I don't care any more. And I've made up my mind to one +thing: he's going to hear the truth from me tomorrow morning if he kills +me for it."</p> + +<p>"Janet!" Rosie did not relish at all the thought of being present at a +family conference of so private a nature.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and you're going to hear it, too, Rosie. If we were alone, he +might pay attention or he might not. But with an outsider hearing things +he'll know quick enough that I mean business."</p> + +<p>"Janet, I don't know how you can talk that way. He's your father, you +know."</p> + +<p>Janet nodded grimly. "Yes, he's my father all right. You know it and I +know it, but he seems to have forgotten it. I'll remind him of it +tomorrow."</p> + +<p>Rosie reached out a little timidly. "I don't like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> to interfere, Janet, +but it seems to me you're only making things harder for yourself. Don't +you know it makes you kind o' sick inside to let yourself get so mad at +any one?"</p> + +<p>Janet sighed wearily. "Yes, I suppose it does, but I've been that way so +long I don't know how it feels to be any other way."</p> + +<p>Presently Rosie said: "Tell me, Janet, has he always boozed like this?"</p> + +<p>Janet shook her head. "No, not always. I can remember when things were +different. I was a pretty big kid, too. We had a little house like yours +and good furniture. You know he's a fine machinist and makes good money. +He used to make four dollars a day. He can always get work yet but he +don't keep it like he used to."</p> + +<p>"And didn't he booze then, Janet?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little but not very much. Ma says he'd come home full maybe once +a month and smash things around, but after that he'd sober up and be all +right for a long time. Oh, we were comfortable then and ma and me had +good clothes and if ma didn't feel very well she'd hire some one to do +the washing. I remember I had a pretty jumping rope and a big ball. It +wasn't more than five or six years ago. And look at us now!"</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed sympathetically. "I wonder what it was that started him +that way?"</p> + +<p>Janet was able to tell. "You know, Rosie, that's a funny thing. Miss +Harris from the Settlement<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> was in here one day asking ma and I heard +what ma said. Dad fell and broke a leg and was laid up for a long time. +Then they found it hadn't been set right and they broke it over again. +So that kept him out of work ever so many more weeks. They had always +been spenders, both of them, and they hadn't so very much money put by, +so, just to keep things together while dad was idle, ma began going out +to work. She's a fine cleaner and laundress, so of course she could +always get good places. Then, after dad got well, she kept on working +because they were in debt and then—I don't know how it happened—the +first thing ma knew dad was drinking up his money and she's been working +ever since. He used to pay the rent but he don't even do that any more."</p> + +<p>Janet talked on as she had never talked before. Not much of what she +said was new to Rosie, for the private life of the poor is lived in +public, and Mrs. Finnegan has no need to explain to the neighbours the +little commotion that took place in her rooms the night before, since +the neighbours have all along known as much about it as herself. What +Rosie had not known before was Janet's real attitude toward her father. +Janet's likes had always seemed to Rosie a little fearsome in their +intensity; her hate, as Rosie saw it now, was appalling. Compared to +Janet's feelings, Rosie's own appeared childish, almost babyish. If +brought to trial, she would, no doubt, have fought for them, but like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> a +kitten rather than a tiger. In Janet the tiger was already well grown.</p> + +<p>Listening to Janet, Rosie shuddered. "I wish you wouldn't talk that way, +Janet. It's kind of murderous!"</p> + +<p>"Murderous?" Janet repeated. "What if it is? That's just how I feel +sometimes. Right now when I think of ma lying there in the hospital, for +two cents I'd go upstairs and choke him to death! What would it matter, +anyway, if he never woke up? Just one less drunkard in the world—that's +all. I guess there'd be plenty enough of them left."</p> + +<p>Rosie held out imploring hands. "Janet, if you keep on talking like that +I'll have to go home! I'll be too scared to sleep with you!"</p> + +<p>Janet was contrite. "Aw, now, Rosie, don't say that. I'm only talking, +and I won't even talk any more tonight. Anyhow, it's time for bed."</p> + +<p>The McFadden home consisted of two rooms: a front living room and a +small back bedroom. The living room was everything its name implied: it +had in it sink, wash-tub, stove, eating table, and the bed where Janet +and her mother slept. The little back room, lighted and ventilated from +a shaft, was where Dave slept.</p> + +<p>The sound of him and the smell of him filled both rooms and seemed to +rush out into the hallway as Janet and Rosie pushed open the door.</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" Rosie gasped, and Janet, who had struck a match and was reaching +for a candle, paused to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> say, over her shoulder: "If you want me to, +I'll shut his door."</p> + +<p>Rosie would have liked nothing better but a humanitarian consideration +restrained her. "Wouldn't he smother in there with the door shut?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe he would."</p> + +<p>Janet spoke so indifferently that Rosie felt that she herself must bear +the whole burden of responsibility.</p> + +<p>"Guess you had better leave it as it is, Janet. I suppose I'll be able +to stand it once I get used to it."</p> + +<p>Rosie said this, but in her own mind she was perfectly sure she could +never sleep in such an atmosphere. She repeated this to herself many +times and very emphatically, while she was undressing and afterwards +when she was in bed.</p> + +<p>"If you're careful," Janet instructed her, "and lie over just a little +bit near the edge, you won't hit the broken spring. Now good-night, +dear, and sleep tight."</p> + +<p>Sleep tight, indeed, with that brute in there snorting like an engine +and one's back nearly broken in two stretching over sharp peaks and +yawning precipices! My! what would Rosie not have given to be at home in +her own bed! Not that her own bed was any marvel of comfort. It was not. +But it was her own—that was the great thing. People like their own +things—their own beds, their own homes, their own families. How Rosie +loved hers! There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> was her father for whom her heart overflowed in a +sudden gush of tenderness. Jamie O'Brien was so quiet and unobtrusive +that Rosie often forgot him. It needed the contrast of a Dave McFadden +to awaken in her a realization of his gentle worth. And, if you only +knew it, there wasn't a more generous-hearted soul on earth than Maggie +O'Brien. And where was there a prettier or a sweeter baby than +Geraldine? And Jackie was a nice kid, too. He was! And Terry—— Terry's +nobility of character could only be expressed orally with a sigh, +graphically with a dash.... Of course there was Ellen.... I suppose +every family has to have at least one disagreeable member.... Wouldn't +it be a great idea if all families just bunched together their +disagreeable members and sent 'em off somewhere alone where they +wouldn't be of any further nuisance? To the Great American Desert, for +instance! To such a scheme Rosie would gladly contribute Ellen and Janet +might contribute her father. The longer Rosie considered the plan, the +more sensible it seemed to her. She was surprised she hadn't thought of +it sooner. She would discuss it with Janet in the morning.... Yes, +morning—morning. Then dream and waking flowed together and she felt +Janet patting her arm and she heard Janet's voice saying, "Morning! It's +morning, Rosie! Wake up!"</p> + +<p>Rosie opened her eyes with a pop. "Why, I've been asleep, haven't I?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>"I should think you had!" Janet told her. "You've been laughing and +talking to yourself to beat the band. It's time to get up now. I want +you to go to the grocery and, while you're out, I'll get him up."</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +<a name="XXX" id="XXX"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXX</span><br /> +<br /> +JANET TO HER OWN FATHER</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">When</span> Rosie got back from the grocery, Dave McFadden was washing his face +at the sink. He paid no attention to Rosie and, in fact, seemed not to +see her until he sat down to breakfast. Then he looked at her in +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Why, hello, Rosie! Where did you come from?"</p> + +<p>He was a large powerfully built man, dark, with sombre cavernous eyes +and a gaunt face. His voice was not unkind nor was his glance.</p> + +<p>Rosie spoke to him politely: "Good-morning, Mr. McFadden."</p> + +<p>"Rosie's been here all night," Janet announced.</p> + +<p>"All night!" Dave looked around a little startled. "Where's your +mother?"</p> + +<p>"My mother?" Janet spoke indifferently. "Oh, she's at the hospital. +She's been there since yesterday morning. I tried to tell you about her +last night."</p> + +<p>Dave put down his coffee cup heavily. "What's the matter with her?"</p> + +<p>"The doctor said it was overwork and worry."</p> + +<p>"Overwork and worry! What are you talking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> about? They don't put people +in the hospital for overwork and worry!" Dave spoke with a rising +irritation. "Can't you tell me something that's got some sense to it?"</p> + +<p>Janet answered casually as though relating an adventure that in no way +touched herself. "I can tell you the whole thing if you want to hear it. +We were on the street going to Mrs. Lamont's for the washing when +suddenly ma jumped and her hands went up and she shook, and I looked +where she was looking because I thought there must be a snake or +something on the sidewalk. Then, before I knew what was happening, she +screamed and fell and her eyes began rolling and she bit with her mouth +until her lips were all bloody and her head jerked around and—and—it +was awful!" With a sob in which there was left no pretence of +indifference, Janet put her hands before her face to shut out the horror +of the scene.</p> + +<p>The details were as new to Rosie as to Dave. Janet had not even hinted +that it was <em>this</em> which had happened to her mother.</p> + +<p>Dave McFadden breathed heavily. "Then what?"</p> + +<p>Janet took her hands from her face and, with a fresh assumption of +indifference, continued: "Oh, a crowd gathered, of course, and after +while a policeman came, and then the ambulance. And while we were in the +ambulance she—had another. And when we got to the hospital—another. It +was awful!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> Janet dropped her head on the table and sobbed.</p> + +<p>"Well?" demanded Dave gruffly.</p> + +<p>Janet stifled her sobs. "They undressed her and put her to bed and gave +her something and she went to sleep. Then the doctor took me into +another room and wrote down what he said was a history of ma's case and +he asked me questions about everything."</p> + +<p>Dave McFadden's sombre gaze wandered off unhappily about the room. "What +did you tell him?"</p> + +<p>Janet's answer came a little slowly: "I told him everything."</p> + +<p>Dave looked at her sharply. "Tell me what you told him!"</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll tell you." There was a hint of unsteadiness in Janet's +voice but no sign of wavering in her manner. Her eyes stared across at +her father as sombre almost as his own. "He said from the looks of her +he thought ma was all run down from overwork and worry. I told him she +was. Then he asked me why and I told him why.... I told him my father +made good money but boozed every cent. I told him my mother had to +support herself and me and even had to feed my father. I told him that +when my father was sober he was cross and grouchy but he didn't hurt us +and that, when he came home drunk, he'd kick us or beat us or do +anything he could to hurt us."</p> + +<p>With a roar like the roar of an angry animal,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> Dave McFadden reached +across the table and clutched Janet roughly by the shoulder. "You told +him that, you—you little skunk!"</p> + +<p>His fury, instead of cowing Janet, roused her to like fury.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she shouted shrilly. "That's exactly what I told him and it's +exactly what I'm going to tell everybody! I'm never going to tell +another lie about you, Dave McFadden! Do you hear me? Never!"</p> + +<p>At the unexpectedness of her attack, Dave's anger and strength seemed to +flow from him like water. His clutch relaxed; he fell back weakly into +his chair. For a moment confusion covered him utterly. Then he tried to +speak and at last succeeded in voicing that ancient reproach with which +unworthy parenthood has ever sought to beguile the just reproof of +outraged offspring: "And is this the way you talk to your own father? +Your—own—father!" Had he been a little drunk, he would have wept. As +it was, even to himself, his words seemed not to ring very true.</p> + +<p>Janet regarded him scornfully. "Yes, that's exactly the way I talk to my +own father!" She paused and her eyes blazed anew. "And there's one +thing, Dave McFadden, that I want to tell you." She stood up from the +table and walked around to her father's place. "When you come in sober, +as cross as a bear and without a word in your mouth for any one, ma and +me hustle about to make you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> comfortable and don't even talk to each +other for fear of riling you. Yes, we're so thankful you're not drunk +that we crawl around like two little dogs just waiting to lick your hand +and tell you how good you are. Then, when you come home drunk, wanting +to kill some one, we do our best to coax you in here to keep you from +getting mixed up with the neighbours. We're terribly careful to save the +neighbours, and why? So's you won't get arrested. But do we ever save +ourselves? There's never a time when I'm not black and blue all over +with the bruises you give me—kicking me and pinching me and knocking me +down."</p> + +<p>In his senses Dave McFadden was not an unkind man, but most of the time +he was not in his senses. Janet's tirade now seemed to be affecting him +much as cheap whiskey did. He staggered to his feet and raised +threatening hands.</p> + +<p>"You little slut! If you don't shut up, I—I'll choke you!"</p> + +<p>But Janet was far past any intimidation. She stood her ground calmly. +"All right! Go ahead and choke! The thing I've made up my mind to tell +you, Dave McFadden, is this: I'll never again lick your boots when +you're sober nor run from you when you're drunk. Kill me now if you want +to! Go on! You've probably killed ma and if she's lying there in the +hospital dead this minute, I wish you would kill me! Then you could go +drown yourself and that would be the end of all of us!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>Dave McFadden groaned. "For God's sake," he implored, "can't you let up +on me?"</p> + +<p>Janet looked at him steadily. "Have you ever let up on us?"</p> + +<p>He stared about helplessly and asked, with the querulousness, almost, of +a child: "What is it you want me to do? Do you want me to go to the +hospital to see her?"</p> + +<p>Janet laughed drearily. "They wouldn't let you in. I asked the doctor +did he want you to come and he said, no, the sight of you would probably +give her another attack."</p> + +<p>Dave shuffled uneasily. "Then I suppose I might as well go to work."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Janet agreed, "you might as well go to work. But before you go, +will you please give me a quarter? I borrowed a quarter from Rosie to +buy your breakfast."</p> + +<p>Dave put his hand in his pocket and found a quarter. He flipped it +across the table. "Here's your money, Rosie."</p> + +<p>"And if you want me to get any supper for you," Janet went on, "you'll +have to give me some money, too."</p> + +<p>Dave hesitated. He was not accustomed to paying the household expenses. +Before he realized what he was saying, he asked: "Hasn't your mother any +money?" Under the instant fire of Janet's scorn, he saw his mistake and +reddened with shame.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Janet told him grimly, "she's got one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> dollar and I'll see you +starve to death before I touch one cent of it for you! If you want any +supper, you pay for it yourself; and you'll pay for mine, too, if I get +any. If I don't get any, it won't be the first time."</p> + +<p>Dave slowly emptied his pocket. He had a two-dollar bill, a fifty-cent +piece, and some small change. "Here," he said, offering Janet the bill +and the fifty-cent piece. "Will that suit you?"</p> + +<p>Janet took the money but refused to be placated. "It ain't what will +suit me or won't suit me. You know as well as I do what's fair and +square, and that's all there is to it. And while we're on money," she +continued, "I might as well tell you if you don't pay five dollars on +the rent we'll be dispossessed next Monday. On account of ma being sick +so much lately we've dropped behind four weeks and the agent won't wait +any longer."</p> + +<p>Dave swallowed hard. "This is all I got till Saturday."</p> + +<p>"Are you sure you'll have any more on Saturday?"</p> + +<p>Dave looked hurt. "Won't I have a whole week's wages?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know." Janet spoke without any feeling as one merely stating a +fact. "Most weeks, you know, you're in debt to the saloon, and when you +pay up there on Saturday afternoon you haven't much left by night."</p> + +<p>Dave smothered an oath. It was plain that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> thought he had done a very +handsome thing in passing over the greater part of his money. It was +also plain that he had expected a grateful "Thank you." And what did he +feel he was receiving? An insult! He looked at Janet in sullen +resentment. "You're a nice one, you are, talking that way to your own +father! I tell you one thing, though: you wouldn't talk that way if your +mother was around. She's got a heart, she has! All you've got is a +turnip!"</p> + +<p>At mention of her mother, Janet choked a little. "My mother don't think +my heart's a turnip and Rosie don't, either. All I've got to say is, if +it looks like a turnip to you, it's because you've changed it into one +yourself."</p> + +<p>To this Dave made no answer. Without further words he could better +preserve the expression of grieved and unappreciated parenthood. +Whatever he may have done or may not have done in the past, just now he +had been noble and generous. And would his own child acknowledge this? +No! He bore her no grudge; his face very plainly said so; but he was +hurt, deeply hurt. Under cover of the hurt, he opened the door quietly +and made his escape.</p> + +<p>In Janet the fires of indignation flickered and went out, leaving her +cold and lifeless. She threw herself into a chair and folded her hands.</p> + +<p>"You certainly did give it to him straight, Janet!" Rosie spoke in tones +of deep admiration.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>Janet laughed scornfully. "Give it to him straight! Oh, yes, I gave it +to him straight all right!" She shivered and clenched her hands. "I can +talk! That's where we come in strong. Take the women in this tenement +and they've all got tongues as sharp as ice-picks. Any one of them can +talk a man to death. But what does it all amount to? Nothing! I tell +you, Rosie, they've got the bulge on us, for, as soon as we make things +hot for them, all they've got to do is clear out!" Janet sighed +unhappily. "Then they pay us back by not coming home and when they get +injured or pulled in it all comes out that it's our fault because we +haven't made home pleasant for them. Huh! They always make it so awful +pleasant for us, don't they?"</p> + +<p>Rosie felt helpless and uncomfortable. Her own life had problems of its +own but, compared to Janet's, how trivial they seemed, how +inconsequential. And, by a like comparison, how inviting her own home +suddenly appeared. She thought of it, ordinarily, as an overcrowded +untidy little house where everybody was under every one else's feet. Not +so this morning. This morning it was home as home should be, the centre +of a very real family life supported by a father's industry and a +mother's devotion. They were poor, of course, but not overwhelmingly so, +for they had enough to eat and enough to wear. And, best of all, they +loved each other. In the past Rosie had not always known this,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> but she +knew it now. They loved each other and, without thinking anything about +it, they were ready to stand by each other. Beneath all family discord +there was a harmony, a family harmony, the burden of which was: all for +one and one for all. A wave of homesickness swept over Rosie. She wanted +to be off without the loss of another moment. Her hands reached out +eagerly for the many tasks, the dear, the wearying tasks that were +awaiting them.</p> + +<p>"Well, Janet, I'm sorry, but I think I must go. You know Geraldine has +to have her bath and I've got to go marketing. If you hurry, though, +I'll help with the dishes first."</p> + +<p>"No," Janet said. "You run along if you have to. I can do the dishes +alone."</p> + +<p>Rosie paused a moment longer. "You know if you want to you can come and +have dinner with us, Janet."</p> + +<p>Janet shook her head. "Thanks, but I won't have time. I've got to go to +all of mother's customers and tell them she's sick, and I go to the +hospital early in the afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Then when will I see you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know unless you come and sleep with me again tonight."</p> + +<p>"I don't see how I can, Janet." At that moment the thought of spending +another night away from her beloved family was more than Rosie could +bear. "You know, Janet, I've got so many things to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> at home. +Geraldine needs me all the time and so does ma and——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, Rosie, I understand. And I don't blame you one bit for liking +it better at home."</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean that at all!" Rosie declared; "honest I didn't!"</p> + +<p>"That's all right," Janet assured her. "I like it better over at your +house myself. It was good of you coming last night. I was kind o' scared +last night and I didn't want to be alone with him."</p> + +<p>Rosie was concerned. "You won't be scared tonight, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean of him?"</p> + +<p>Rosie nodded.</p> + +<p>"No. And what's more, Rosie, I don't believe I'll ever again be scared +of him. He's not going to bother me any more. Couldn't you see that this +morning?... Funny thing, Rosie: I used to think if only I wasn't afraid +of him I'd be perfectly happy and now, when I'm not afraid of him any +longer and when he'll probably never touch me again, I don't seem to +care much."</p> + +<p>Rosie shook her head emphatically. "Well, I tell you one thing, Janet +McFadden: I care. I couldn't go to sleep tonight if I thought you were +here alone getting beaten up."</p> + +<p>Janet looked at her friend affectionately. "You needn't worry about me. +I'll be all right. Good-bye, Rosie dear, and thanks."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Janet, and come when you can."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>From the speed with which Rosie hurried home, it would never have been +guessed that she was merely returning to a round of endless duties and +petty worries. Her eyes shone, her little woman face was all aglow with +the joyous eagerness of one whose course was leading straight to +happiness.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +<a name="XXXI" id="XXXI"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXXI</span><br /> +<br /> +DANNY'S SUGGESTION</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Mrs.</span> O'Brien received her daughter with open arms.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Rosie dear, I'm glad to see you! And I can't tell you the fuss +they've all been making at your absence.... Yes, Geraldine darlint, +sister Rosie's come back at last."</p> + +<p>Rosie took the baby and hugged and kissed her as though she had not seen +her for weeks. "And are you glad to see Rosie?" she crooned.</p> + +<p>"She is that!" Mrs. O'Brien declared. "And himself, Rosie, was +complainin' the whole evening about your not being here. And Terry, too, +he kept askin' where you were. And Jarge Riley, Rosie! Why, Jarge is +fairly lost without you! He was in early this morning and just now when +I was startin' to get him his breakfast, he stopped me. And what for, do +you think? He wanted to wait to see if you wouldn't be coming back. Why, +Rosie, I do believe that b'y thinks that no one can boil coffee or fry +eggs equal to yourself!"</p> + +<p>Rosie glowed all over. "Ma, is he really waiting for me?... Here, +Geraldine dear, you go to ma for a few minutes. Rosie's got to get Jarge +Riley's breakfast. I'll be back soon, won't I, Ma?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>"And, Rosie dear, before you go, such a bit of news as I have: Ellen's +got a new job! They sent for her from the college. Now I do say it's a +fine compliment for any girl to be sent for like that. Ah, they know the +stuff that's in Ellen! As I says to her last night——"</p> + +<p>"Tell me the rest some other time," Rosie begged. "You know Jarge is +waiting."</p> + +<p>"To be sure he is," Mrs. O'Brien agreed. "He's in his room. Give him a +call as you go by."</p> + +<p>In answer to her summons George appeared at once, collarless and in +shirtsleeves with the drowsiness of an interrupted nap in his eyes. He +beamed on Rosie affectionately.</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd be coming."</p> + +<p>"It was awful good of you waiting for me, Jarge."</p> + +<p>"Good—nuthin'! Guess I know who can cook in this house!"</p> + +<p>Conscious worth need not be offensive. Rosie answered modestly: "Oh, I +cook much better than I used to, Jarge. I learned ever so much from your +mother. I know how to make pie now. We used to have pie every day in the +country."</p> + +<p>"I know." George sighed pathetically.</p> + +<p>Rosie was all sympathy. "I'll make you a pie this week, honest I will. +Which would you rather have, rhubarb or apple?"</p> + +<p>George weighed the choice while Rosie set out his breakfast.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>"Guess you might make it rhubarb this time," he decided at last; "and +apple next time."</p> + +<p>"Now then," Rosie said, pouring his coffee, "you eat and I'll sit down +and talk to you. I wanted to talk to you last night, but you know I had +to go off with poor Janet."</p> + +<p>George looked at her seriously. "I don't like your staying over there +all night. I don't think it's safe. Dave's all right when he's sober, +but they say he ain't sober much nowadays."</p> + +<p>"It was all right last night, Jarge. Janet had him in bed and asleep +before I got there."</p> + +<p>"Well, even so...." George grumbled on.</p> + +<p>"H'm," Rosie remarked a little pointedly. "Er—do you remember, Jarge, +what I was going to talk to you about last night?"</p> + +<p>George looked at her inquiringly. "Was it anything special?"</p> + +<p>"Don't you remember what you asked me to ask Danny Agin?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know I asked you to ask him anything." George spoke in candid +surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jarge, what a poor memory you've got!" Rosie shook her head +despairingly. "You told me what a mess you had made of things with Ellen +and you asked my advice about what you ought to do and told me to talk +it over with Danny Agin. Now do you remember?"</p> + +<p>George did not seem to remember things in just the order that Rosie gave +them, but he was gallant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> enough not to say so and, furthermore, to show +his acceptance of her version by an interested: "Oh, is that what you +mean?"</p> + +<p>Rosie leaned toward him eagerly. "Don't you want to hear what Danny +said?"</p> + +<p>"Sure I do."</p> + +<p>"Well, Danny and me went over things very carefully and I agree with +Danny and Danny agrees with me. So, if you've got any sense, you'll do +just exactly what we tell you to."</p> + +<p>George looked a little dubious. "Don't know as I'm so awful strong on +sense. Shoot away, though. I'd like to hear what you want me to do."</p> + +<p>Rosie began impressively: "Danny says that the mistake you're making is +not going out and getting another girl. Ellen's so sure of you that of +course she don't take the least interest in you. All she's got to do is +crook her little finger and you're Johnny-on-the-spot. Now if you were +to get another girl and treat her real nice, Ellen wouldn't be long in +taking notice. That's the way girls are." Rosie wagged her head +knowingly.</p> + +<p>George dropped his knife. "Aw, shucks! Is that all you got to say?"</p> + +<p>Rosie's manner turned severe. "Now, Jarge Riley, you needn't say, 'Aw, +shucks!' What's more, I guess Danny Agin and me together have got more +sense than you have any day and we don't think it's shucks! Now you +listen to what I say and maybe you'll learn something."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>But George still seemed unwilling to learn. "Aw, what do I want to go +chasing girls for? I don't like 'em, and besides, 'tain't nuthin' but a +tomfool waste of time and money!"</p> + +<p>Rosie was scornful. "Is it because you're afraid of spending a cent?"</p> + +<p>George met the charge calmly. "I wouldn't be afraid to spend all I make +on the right girl, but with all the places I got to put money, just tell +me, please, what's the sense of my throwing it away on some girl I don't +care beans about?"</p> + +<p>"So's to get a chance at the girl you do care beans about!" Rosie was +emphatic. "Now I tell you one thing Jarge Riley: I don't think much of +Ellen and I think it would be a good deal better for you if she never +would look at you, but you're in love with her and you think you've got +to have her, and I've promised you I'd help you. Now: Are you going to +be sensible or aren't you?"</p> + +<p>George refused to commit himself. Instead he asked: "How much do you +reckon this fool scheme would cost a fellow?"</p> + +<p>Rosie was ready with a detailed estimate. "It would come to from five to +thirty cents every day."</p> + +<p>"Every day!" George was fairly outraged at the suggestion. "Do you mean +to say you've got the cheek to expect me to go sporting some fool girl +every day?"</p> + +<p>Rosie was firm. "That's exactly what I mean. I suppose you think the way +to make love to a girl<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> is to give her an ice-cream soda once a month. +Well, it just ain't!"</p> + +<p>George continued obstinate. "I'm not saying I know how to make love to a +girl because I don't and, what's more, I don't care. But I'll be blamed +if I'm willing to do more than one ice-cream soda a month for any girl +alive!"</p> + +<p>Rosie caught him up sharply: "Not even for Ellen?"</p> + +<p>"Ellen! Ellen's different! I'd like to do something for her every day of +her life."</p> + +<p>"H'm! What, for instance?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I ain't got much money, so I can't do very big things, but I'd +like to take her to the movies or on a street-car ride or buy her some +peanuts or candy or all kinds o' little things like that. I know they +ain't much in themselves, but if a fellow does them all the time, it +seems to me a girl ought to know that he's thinking about her a good +deal."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jarge, you're such a child!" Rosie smiled on him in womanly +amusement. "First you say you don't know how to make love and then you +tell just exactly how to do it! Now listen to me: The way to make love +to any girl is to treat her just like you'd like to treat Ellen. If +anything on earth is going to make Ellen wake up, it'll be just that. +And the very things you know how to do are the very things I was going +to tell you to do! A bag of peanuts is plenty for a walk and that's only +five cents. Then a night when you go to the movies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> would be ten cents +and, if it was hot, you'd probably want ten cents more for an ice-cream +soda afterwards and that would make twenty cents. If you took a car ride +and back, that would be twenty cents and a treat would be another ten +cents. And you'd be getting your money's worth while you were doing it +and perhaps you'd get Ellen, too."</p> + +<p>George was not very happy over the prospect. "As you've got everything +else fixed up for me," he grumbled, "I suppose you've got the girl +picked out, too. But I tell you one thing: I won't take after one of +them Slattery girls, no matter what you say! If a fellow was to give one +of them an ice-cream soda once, he'd have to marry her!"</p> + +<p>Rosie put out a quieting hand. "Now, Jarge, don't be silly! You don't +have to take one of the Slattery girls or any other girl that you don't +want to take. You can just suit yourself and no one's going to say a +word to you.... What kind of girl do you think you'd like? Do you want a +blonde? Well, there's Aggie Kearney, she's a blonde."</p> + +<p>"Aw, cut out Aggie Kearney! What do you think I am!"</p> + +<p>"Well, maybe you want a brunette. What about Polly Russell?"</p> + +<p>"Aw, cut out Polly Russell, too! You know what I think of that whole +Russell bunch!"</p> + +<p>Rosie looked a little hurt. "I must say, Jarge, even if you don't want +Polly, you needn't snap my head off. Make your own choice! I'm sure +there are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> enough girls right in this neighbourhood for any man to pick +from. How do you like 'em? Do you like 'em fat or do you like 'em thin? +Or maybe you don't want an American girl. Well, there are those Italians +around the corner and down further there's that nest of Yiddish. All +you've got to do is make up your mind about the kind of girl you want. +There's plenty of all kinds."</p> + +<p>"Aw, get out! I tell you I don't want any of them!" By this time George +had grown very red in the face and his voice had risen to a volume +better suited to the outdoors than to a small room.</p> + +<p>Rosie looked distressed. "You needn't talk so loud, Jarge. I'm not +deaf.... I must say, though, after all the trouble I've taken, ... And +poor old Danny Agin, too, ..." Rosie felt for her handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Well," George complained, "I don't see why you go offering me the worst +old snags in town! Why don't you pick out a few nice ones?"</p> + +<p>Rosie swallowed quite pathetically and blinked her eyes toward the +ceiling. It has been observed that gazing fixedly at the ceiling very +often conduces to inspiration. Apparently it was to be so with Rosie. +The expression on her face slowly changed. She turned to George a little +shyly.</p> + +<p>"I was just wondering, Jarge, whether, maybe, <em>I</em> wouldn't do."</p> + +<p>It must have been an inspiration! To attribute such a suggestion to +anything else would be to credit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> Rosie with a depth of guile which only +supreme feminine art could have compassed.</p> + +<p>George at least saw no guile. His face glowed. He actually shouted in an +exuberance of relief. "Would you, Rosie? That'd be fine! We'd have a +bully time together!" Then he paused. "But, Rosie, do you think you're +big enough? I wouldn't think Ellen would get jealous of a little girl +like you."</p> + +<p>Rosie shook her head reassuringly. "Don't you worry about me. I'm plenty +big enough. Besides, I don't count. You're the only one that counts. All +you've got to do is make love to almost any one. If it's some one you +like, then it'll be all the easier for you."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know I like you all right, Rosie." The heartiness in George's +tone was unmistakable. "I just love to spend money on you, Rosie! That's +a great idea! Who thought of it, Danny or you?"</p> + +<p>"Not Danny," Rosie answered promptly. "I thought of it myself—I mean," +she added, "I thought of it just now. And you think it's a good idea, do +you, Jarge?"</p> + +<p>"Good? You bet your life I think it's good! Why, do you know, Rosie, +when you began talking about Aggie Kearney and Polly Russell and those +Ginneys around the corner, you made me plumb sick! I was ready to throw +up the whole thing! I sure am glad you happened to think about yourself +on time!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>"H'm!" murmured Rosie.</p> + +<p>"I mean it!" George insisted. "Let's start out tonight! What shall it +be, a street-car ride or the movies?"</p> + +<p>"Just as you say." Rosie, with sweet deference, put the whole thing into +George's hands. "They're going to give the 'Two Orphans' at the Gem. +Three reels. I saw the posters this morning. But you decide, Jarge. +Whatever you say will be all right."</p> + +<p>With a fine masterfulness George made the decision. "Well, I say movies +for tonight." He reached across the table and patted Rosie's face. +"Don't forget, kid, you're my girl now. And I tell you what: I'm going +to show you a swell time!"</p> + +<p>"It's just as you say, Jarge," Rosie murmured meekly.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +<a name="XXXII" id="XXXII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXXII</span><br /> +<br /> +THE SUBSTITUTE LADY</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Rosie</span> now entered upon a season of unparalleled gaiety. It was as if she +were being rewarded for her generosity in thinking not of herself nor of +her dislike for the object of George's fancy but only of George and of +his happiness. It had been something of a struggle in the first place to +advise a course of action which really might awaken in Ellen an +appreciation of George's worth. Well, Rosie had advised it in all +frankness and sincerity. That the putting into practice of this advice +was working out to Rosie's own advantage is neither here nor there. If, +in the campaign which she and Danny had planned, there had to be a +substitute lady, why, as an after-thought, should not Rosie herself be +that lady?</p> + +<p>With George, Rosie never forgot that the relationship was a substitute +one. Whenever he did something particularly lover-like, she would +commend him as a teacher commends an apt pupil: "Jarge, you certainly +are learning!" or, "I don't care what you say, Jarge, but if you were +really making love to me and acted this beautiful, you sure could have +me!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>In giving him hints about new attentions, she never made the matter +personal. She would say, casually: "Now there's one thing a girl just +loves, Jarge, and you ought to know it. It's to have her beau do +unexpected things for her. I mean if he's used to giving her candy every +night, it just tickles her to death to get up some morning and find a +little package waiting for her. And if he goes to the trouble of +sticking in a little note that says:</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class="hang">"'My dearest Sweetheart, I couldn't wait until to-night to give you +this....'</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class="noi">why, she just goes crazy about him. Whatever you do, Jarge, you mustn't +forget that girls love to get notes all the time."</p> + +<p>This particular instruction Rosie had frequently to repeat before George +put it into execution. "Aw, now, Rosie," he used to plead, "you know +perfectly well I ain't nuthin' of a letter-writer."</p> + +<p>But Rosie was firm. "Do as you like," she would say, "but you can take +it from me they ain't nuthin' like letters to make a girl sit up. You're +practising on me, so you might as well practise right. Besides, it's not +hard, really it's not. You don't have to be fancy. Why, I once heard a +girl tell about a letter that she thought was great and all it said was, +'Say, kid, maybe I ain't crazy about you!' Now is it so awful hard to +tell a girl you're crazy about her if you are? And that's all that any +love-letter says anyhow."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>"Seems to me," George grumbled one day, "for a kid you know an awful lot +about love-letters."</p> + +<p>"Of course I do," Rosie told him. "I know just the kind I'd like to get +and that's the kind every girl would like to get."</p> + +<p>All such discussions took place in the privacy of their +pseudo-courtship. Who would have the heart to be censorious if, to the +outside world, Rosie began to bear herself with something of the air of +a lady who has a knight, of a girl who has a beau? It would have been +beyond human nature for Rosie not to remark periodically to Janet +McFadden: "What do you suppose it is that makes Jarge Riley treat me so +kind? He just seems to lie awake nights to think up nice things to do."</p> + +<p>Janet, being a true friend, would give a long sigh and murmur: "Don't it +beat all, Rosie, the way some girls have beaux from the beginning and +some don't. I suppose it runs in your family. You know Tom Sullivan is +always asking about you. Whenever I go to Aunt Kitty's or when Tom comes +to our house, the first thing he says is, 'How's Rosie O'Brien these +days?' If only he wasn't so bashful, he'd invite you to the movies—you +know he would. Of course he asks me because we're cousins, but I tell +you one thing, Rosie: you're the one he'd like to take."</p> + +<p>What Janet was always saying about Tom Sullivan's devotion to Rosie was +perfectly true but, nevertheless, it was so generous in Janet to +acknowledge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> it that Rosie was always ready to declare: "Aw, now, Janet, +you needn't go jollyin' me like that! Tom likes you awful well and you +know he does."</p> + +<p>Rosie never talked to Janet about her own round of pleasure without +stopping suddenly with a feeling of compunction and the quick question: +"But, Janet dear, how are things going with you? How's your poor mother +and is your father still on the water wagon?"</p> + +<p>News about Mrs. McFadden was slow in changing. For days she lay in the +hospital, weak and broken, not wishing to come back to life and without +interest in herself or her husband or even her child. A case like this +takes a long time, the nurse would tell Janet and Janet had only this to +repeat in answer to Rosie's inquiries.</p> + +<p>With Dave McFadden it was different. There the unexpected was happening. +It was a week before Janet risked speaking of it. Then, in awe-struck +tones, she confided to her friend.</p> + +<p>"Say, Rosie, what do you think? He hasn't had a drink since the day you +stayed all night with me. I don't know how long he can stand it. He +looks awful and he makes me give him about ten cups of tea at night. I +don't believe he sleeps more than half an hour." Not relief so much as a +new kind of fear showed in Janet's face and sounded in her voice. "And, +Rosie, he's just terrible to live with, because he never says a word.... +Don't it beat all the way you long and long for a thing and then,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> when +you get it, it turns out entirely different! There I used to suppose I'd +be perfectly happy if only he'd stop boozing but now, when I wake up at +night and hear him rolling around and groaning, why, do you know, Rosie, +it scares me to death. It's just like he's fighting something that I +can't see. And the worst is I can't do anything to help him but get up +and make him some more tea."</p> + +<p>Both Rosie and Janet were too familiar with Dave's type to hail as a +happy reformation those first days of struggle. They stood back and +waited, grateful for each day won but as yet not at all confident of the +morrow.</p> + +<p>"He certainly is trying," Rosie would say, and Janet would repeat, a +little dubiously, "Yes, he's trying."</p> + +<p>A day came when she looked tenser and more breathless than usual. "What +do you think, Rosie? He handed me over fifteen dollars this week and ten +last week that I didn't tell you about. I didn't want to too soon. All +he said was, 'You take care of this till your mother comes home.' I'm +paying up the back rent and I've started a savings account at the +Settlement."</p> + +<p>Rosie's eyes opened wide. "Well now, Janet, he certainly does deserve +credit!" As Janet made no comment, Rosie demanded: "Don't you think he +does?"</p> + +<p>Janet's answer was disconcerting. "Why does he deserve credit for doing +what he ought to do?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>Rosie was a little hurt. "When a person does right, I don't see why +you're so afraid of giving them a little credit."</p> + +<p>"Rosie O'Brien, you're just like all the women! Let a good-for-nothing +drunk sober up for a day or two, and they all go saying, 'The poor +fellow! Ain't he fine! Ain't he noble! He certainly does deserve +credit!' But do you ever hear them giving any credit to the decent +hard-working men who support their families every day of the year? I've +never heard you say that your father deserved credit!"</p> + +<p>This was rather startling and Rosie could only answer stiffly, though +somewhat lamely: "My father's different!"</p> + +<p>"I should think he was different! And when he hands over money which +goes to support his own family, I see you and your mother and the rest +of you falling down on your knees and saying: 'Oh, thank you, dear +father! You are so noble!' Well, that's what you expect me to do to my +old man and that's what he expects, too, because for a week or so he's +been paying the bills he ought to pay. And when I don't say it I wish +you'd see how injured he looks."</p> + +<p>Rosie could not meet the logic of Janet's position, but logic is not +everything in this life. "I don't care what you say, Janet," she +persisted, "I don't think it would hurt you one bit to say 'Thank you' +to him."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>Janet started to answer again, then stopped with a laugh. "Tell you +what, Rosie, I promise you this: I'll say 'Thank you' to him as soon as +you say 'Thank you' to your father for the three meals you eat every +day, for the clothes you wear, for the house you live in."</p> + +<p>It was Rosie's turn to flare up. "Janet McFadden, you're crazy! Haven't +I a right to all those things? Don't I do my share of work in the +family?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Rosie, you do and I'm not saying that you haven't every right to +them. But why don't you see that I've got the same right? Don't I work +as hard as you? And hasn't my poor mother worked harder than your mother +has ever worked? My father's got out of the way of supporting us, so I'm +not surprised that he thinks he's a wonder when he does it for a couple +of days, but search me if I see why you should think so, too, when your +father has always supported you without saying a word about it." Janet +paused, then ended with a rush: "Oh, don't you see, it would choke me to +say 'Thank you' to him with ma lying there in the hospital like a dead +woman! Why hasn't he always done this? There's nothing he can do now to +make up for all those years. It's too late! Even if she does get well, +she'll never be the same. The nurse told me." Janet hid her face in her +arm and dry gasping sobs began to shake her body.</p> + +<p>"Aw, now, Janet, don't!" Rosie begged. "I see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> what you mean and I don't +blame you—honest I don't."</p> + +<p>The issue that Janet had raised was a little beyond Rosie's +understanding, but Rosie did realize that Janet was right. Janet's point +of view often startled and dismayed her. As on this occasion she would +always begin disputing it vehemently and end meekly accepting it.</p> + +<p>If Rosie did not make Janet her confidante in regard to the attentions +she was receiving from George, it was because the true inwardness of +that affair was in the nature of a secret between her and Danny Agin. +Rosie was tremendously fond of Janet but, after all, Janet was not her +only friend. Danny Agin, too, had certain rights that must not be +forgotten. Besides, it must be confessed, it was sweet to hear Janet's +"Ohs!" and "Ahs!" over what seemed to be each new evidence of George's +devotion.</p> + +<p>Danny Agin was watching as keenly as Janet the little comedy which he +himself had set in motion.</p> + +<p>"So she looked at you like a black thunder-cloud, did she?" he had said, +with a chuckle, when Rosie had related Ellen's surprise and involuntary +chagrin at George's deflection.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Rosie told him. "And, do you know, Danny, when she tried to guy +Jarge, he was able for her. She called him a craddle-robber and he says: +'I'm not so sure of that. Let's see: I'm about six years older than +Rosie. That means when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> she's eighteen I'll be twenty-four. That ain't +so bad.' And oh, Danny," Rosie ended, "I wish you could have seen how +mad Ellen was!"</p> + +<p>Danny laughed. "I do see her this minute!" He mused awhile, his eyes +blinking rapidly. "It's this way, Rosie: in any case it's a fine +arrangement for Jarge, for it has a sort of double-barrelled action. +Maybe it'll bring Ellen around. That would suit him fine. But, by the +same token, if it don't bring her around, it won't very much matter, +for, before he knows what he's about, Jarge'll be wakin' up to the fact +that he's havin' just as good a time with another girl as he'd ever be +havin' with Ellen and, once he knows that, good-bye to Ellen and her +tantrums!"</p> + +<p>"Do you really think so, Danny?" Rosie put the question anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Do I think so? I do. What else could I think with the sight I've had of +all the lads I've ever known fallin' in love and most of them fallin' +out again?"</p> + +<p>As usual, Danny's words gave Rosie something to cogitate. "Are you +perfectly sure, Danny, they do sometimes fall out again?"</p> + +<p>Danny raised his right hand to heaven. "I'd be willin' to take me oath +they do! In fact, Rosie darlint, it would shame me to tell you how often +they do!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +<a name="XXXIII" id="XXXIII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXXIII</span><br /> +<br /> +ELLEN'S CAREER</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Danny</span> was a wise old bird whose chirpings were well worth listening to. +What he prophesied for George seemed likely enough of realization. The +new affair, though confessedly pseudo, was cheering from the first. This +was to be expected so long as Ellen, notwithstanding her scoffing, was a +little miffed. Rosie saw, though, that, in spite of being miffed, Ellen +was still perfectly sure that she did not want George for herself. The +only feeling she seemed to have in the matter was annoyance that he +should no longer be wanting her. At first Ellen was so outspoken in this +annoyance that Rosie was able to whisper triumphantly: "You see, Jarge! +Didn't I tell you!"</p> + +<p>There were other things occurring just at this time which served to keep +Ellen irritable and sensitive. Her experience in stenography was, +throughout, unfortunate and was making her see in almost everything that +happened a slight to herself. To Mrs. O'Brien's prolonged amazement, the +heads of various firms continued their insulting treatment of Ellen, +discharging her on the slightest provocation or no provocation whatever, +and never giving the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> poor girl, so her mother declared, anything like a +fair trial.</p> + +<p>"Now what I would like to know is this:" Mrs. O'Brien would begin in the +evening as soon as Jamie, poor man, was quietly settled for his bedtime +pipe; "how can they know what Ellen can do or what she can't do, never +giving her a decent show? The last six places she's been at they've only +kept her a day or two days at most. It's me own opinion they don't want +a good stenographer. I believe they're jealous of her! I tell you, Jamie +O'Brien, it's fair disgraceful, and if I was a man, which I'm thankful +to say I ain't, I'd go down there and give them fellas a piece of my +mind!"</p> + +<p>To Ellen herself, Mrs. O'Brien was, as usual, both sympathetic and +voluble. "Don't you mind what them fellas say to you, Ellen dear," she +would advise at each fresh disappointment. "You've had as fine a +schoolin' as any of them and there'll come a day when they'll all have +to acknowledge it. And when they talk to you again about your spelling, +you can tell them for me they're mighty smart if they're able to prove +what's the right and what's the wrong way to spell a word nowadays. If I +was you I wouldn't worry me head one minute about a thrifle like +spelling. I'd just go ahead me own way and remember I was a lady and, +take me word for it, some of these days you'll hit an office that is an +office with fine men at the head of it, able to know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> good work when +they see it and willin' to give credit for it!"</p> + +<p>Ellen shared to a great extent her mother's belief in her own ability, +and she tried to share likewise Mrs. O'Brien's firm conviction that +there was a deep-laid plot to keep her down. In her mother's presence it +was easy enough to believe this, but Ellen was too quick-witted to +deceive herself all the time and, as the days went by and her failure in +stenography grew more and more apparent, she began to lose her air of +aggressive confidence and to show in a new sullenness of manner the +chagrin and the disappointment she was feeling.</p> + +<p>There was no dearth of trial places, as the supply of offices in need of +stenographers seemed to be unlimited. So, in the matter of actual +earnings, Ellen was doing pretty well. Indeed, her first experience was +repeated more than once and she was overpaid in order to be got rid of +more quickly. At such times she took the money greedily in spite of the +attendant mortification. Mrs. O'Brien saw no cause for mortification but +would declare complacently: "Ha, ha, the villians! 'Tis conscience +money, no less, that they're paying you! They know they haven't given +you a fair show! But don't you mind them, Ellen dear. The right office +is comin' yet—you can depend on that!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien's faith was steadfast and at length had its reward. Ellen +came home one evening flushed and triumphant. "Well," she announced,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +"I've struck it right at last!" Her eyes sparkled with renewed +assurance. "No more running around for me, a day here and a day there! +I'm fixed! Eight dollars a week to begin on and fifty cents advance +every month!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not one bit surprised!" Mrs. O'Brien cried. "I knew just how it +would be! Now tell us all about it!"</p> + +<p>"It's a real estate office," Ellen explained; "Hawes & Cranch. Mr. Hawes +is my man. I'm to take his dictation in the morning and get the work out +in the afternoon and attend to his private phone. It's a big office. +They've got two other stenographers and a book-keeper. By tomorrow Mr. +Hawes is going to have my desk put into his room. He's an awful nice +man. He says he never had any one who took his dictation better and he +says I certainly do understand all about business punctuation."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you do!" Mrs. O'Brien agreed heartily.</p> + +<p>"And I wasn't there more than a couple of hours when he said he knew I'd +suit and the position was mine if I wanted it."</p> + +<p>"Do you hear that!" Mrs. O'Brien gasped. "I'm not one bit surprised!"</p> + +<p>"And he apologized for starting me so low. He said it was a rule in +their office. He talked like I ought to be getting twenty a week +easily."</p> + +<p>"And so you ought!" Mrs. O'Brien declared. "And I must say, Ellen dear, +if I'm any judge of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> men, this Mr. Hawes is a fine fella! Mind you're +always respectful to him!"</p> + +<p>Ellen laughed. "He's not that kind of man at all! He's just as friendly +as he can be."</p> + +<p>For a moment her mother was anxious. "I hope, Ellen dear, he's not too +friendly."</p> + +<p>Ellen tossed her head. "Even if he was, I guess I know how to take care +of myself!"</p> + +<p>In Mrs. O'Brien confidence was restored. "Of course you do, Ellen dear. +I trust you for that."</p> + +<p>Terry looked at Ellen sharply. "Say, Sis, is this fellow married?"</p> + +<p>"Er-a-not exactly," Ellen stammered. "I wasn't going to mention it, but +since you ask me I might as well tell. They say he's divorced."</p> + +<p>"Divorced!" That was a word to startle Mrs. O'Brien's soul. "You don't +say so, Ellen! I'm sorry to hear it! I'm not so sure you ought to stay +with him."</p> + +<p>Ellen laughed. "Ma, you make me tired! Divorce is so common nowadays, it +don't mean a thing! Besides, it wasn't his fault. Miss Kennedy, one of +the other stenographers, told me so."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien was plainly relieved. "I must say I'm glad to hear that. I +suppose now she was one of them dressy, lazy, good-for-nuthin's that +nearly drove the poor fella mad with her extravagance. There are such +women and a lot of them!"</p> + +<p>One of the first results of Ellen's new position was an utter +indifference to George Riley and Rosie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> and to their little comedy. It +was not so much that she intentionally ignored them as that she did not +see them even when she looked at them—at any rate, did not see them any +more than she would have seen two chairs that occupy so much space and +are not to be stumbled over. There was one subject now and one only that +filled her mind to the exclusion of all others. This was her new +employer. She talked about him constantly, first as Mr. Hawes, then as +Philip Hawes, and soon as Phil. It was "Phil this" and "Phil that" +throughout breakfast and supper.</p> + +<p>In no one but her mother did Ellen arouse any great enthusiasm, but Mrs. +O'Brien was a host in herself and in questions and ejaculations more +than made up for the indifference of the others.</p> + +<p>To his kindness to Ellen during office hours, Hawes was soon adding +social attentions outside office hours, inviting her to places of +amusement in the evening and taking her off on Sunday excursions.</p> + +<p>"He is certainly a very kind-hearted gentleman," Mrs. O'Brien repeatedly +declared; "and it would give me much pleasure to take him by the hand +and tell him so."</p> + +<p>This was a pleasure somewhat doubtful of realization as circumstances +kept preventing the kind-hearted gentleman from making an actual +appearance at the O'Brien home. He wanted to come; he was very anxious +to meet Ellen's family; but he was a busy man and could not always do as +he would like to do. Ellen had to explain this at length, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> even Mrs. +O'Brien, easy-going as she was, protested against an escort who hadn't +time either to come for his lady or to bring her home.</p> + +<p>"I don't see why you can't understand!" Ellen would exclaim petulantly. +"Now listen here: wouldn't it take him half an hour to come out here for +me, and another half hour for us to get back to town, and another half +hour for him to bring me home, and another half hour for him to get back +to town himself? That'd be two whole hours. Now I say it would be a +shame to make that poor man spend all that time on the cars just coming +and going."</p> + +<p>At first Mrs. O'Brien would insist: "But, Ellen dear, beaux always do +that way! For me own part I don't think it's nice for you to be comin' +home so late alone. You've never done it before. I don't mind you to be +going downtown to meet him if he's a busy man, yet I must say, Ellen +dear, ..."</p> + +<p>But Ellen was expert at making her mother see reason and Mrs. O'Brien +was soon explaining to George Riley or to any one who would listen: "I +do like to see a girl considerate of a poor tired man, especially if +he's a fine hard-workin' fella like this Mr. Hawes. So I says to Ellen, +'Ellen dear,' says I, 'it's all very well to be accepting the attentions +of a nice gentleman, but remember,' says I, 'he's a tired man with a +load of responsibility on his shoulders and he'd much better be resting +than spending all his time on the street cars just coming and going.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +This is a safe neighborhood,' says I, 'and nowadays girls and women are +always coming home alone.' Now I ask you truthfully, ain't that so?"</p> + +<p>It probably was; nevertheless the attitude of the rest of the family +continued to be rather cold and skeptical. "Ain't it a great beau we got +now?" Terry would remark facetiously. "Seems like he's afraid to show +himself, though. Say, Sis, do you have to pay your own carfare?"</p> + +<p>To Rosie's surprise, George Riley paid no heed to the newcomer. Rosie +herself felt that Ellen's absorption in her employer marked very +definitely the failure of Danny Agin's experiment. Ellen never had and +never would care two straws about George Riley and now, with something +else to occupy her mind, she had forgotten even the slight pique which +Rosie's little affair had at first excited. Rosie wondered whether +honesty required her to point this out to George. She tried to once or +twice, but George was so slow at understanding what she was talking +about that at last she desisted.</p> + +<p>The truth was, George was having so good a time playing his and Rosie's +little game that he was in a fair way of forgetting that it was a game. +Not that he was falling in love with Rosie. Rosie was only a little girl +of whom he was tremendously fond and to his northern mind, as to +Rosie's, the idea that a man should fall in love with a little girl was +a preposterous one. His affection for her was founded solidly on the +approval of reason. It had not in it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> one bit of the wild unreason which +characterized his feeling for Ellen. They were pals, he and Rosie, who +understood and appreciated each other and who enjoyed going off on +little larks together. Since these larks had become a regular thing, +life for George had regained its normal zest, as it does for any man +once fresh interests begin to occupy the leisure moments heretofore +given up to a fruitless passion. A look, a word, would have awakened the +old passion, but for the present no look was being given, no word +spoken.</p> + +<p>So Rosie, seeing George happy, could only sigh, hoping it wasn't +cheating on her part not to tell him the truth. Except for this scruple +of conscience, she was very happy herself. Her little world was jogging +comfortably along: Geraldine was well; for Janet McFadden life seemed to +be brightening; and for Janet as well as Rosie the waning summer was +affording many treats. Janet's cousin, Tom Sullivan, was making a good +deal of money on summer jobs and was squandering his earnings lavishly +on his two lady friends.</p> + +<p>"Just think, Rosie," Janet announced one day, "Tom wants to give us +another picnic! You know I've always told you how generous he is."</p> + +<p>"I know he is," Rosie agreed. "Tom sure is nice. It wouldn't surprise me +one bit if he grows up as nice as Jarge Riley. What's this new picnic, +and when is it to be?"</p> + +<p>"For Labour Day. He says he'll pay Jackie to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> take your papers and that +you and me and him will all go downtown to the parade. After the parade +we'll eat supper at a restaurant and after that we'll go to the movies." +Janet paused, then concluded impressively: "He made two whole dollars +last week and he's willing to blow in every cent of it on us!"</p> + +<p>"You don't say so!" Rosie shook her head and clucked her tongue in +amazement as deep as Janet's own.</p> + +<p>"You'll come, won't you, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie hesitated. "I'll come if I can. I mean I will if Jarge Riley +hasn't something on. If he's off on Labour Day afternoon, of course +he'll want me and I'll have to be with him."</p> + +<p>"Of course," Janet agreed. "But maybe he won't get off. I wonder how +soon he'll know?"</p> + +<p>"I'll ask him tonight," Rosie promised. "Let's see: today's Thursday and +Labour Day's next Monday. I ought to be able to let Tom know early on +Saturday."</p> + +<p>"I think I'm going to be off," George told her that night in answer to +her inquiry. "I switch around to a late run tomorrow night, but I won't +know until tomorrow whether I'm going to keep it regular. What do you +want to do tomorrow night? Ride down with me on my last trip? Then we'd +stop and get a soda on the way home."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Jarge, I think that would be very nice. And you can write me +a little note about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> Labour Day and hand it to me when I get on the +car."</p> + +<p>George's face fell. "Won't talking be good enough?"</p> + +<p>"No, Jarge, it'll be better to write. You're doing beautifully in your +letters but you must keep them up."</p> + +<p>George sighed but murmured an obedient: "All right."</p> + +<p>The next evening Rosie was at the corner in good time and, promptly to +the minute, George's car came by. It was an open summer car with seats +straight across and an outside running board. Rosie climbed into the +last seat, which was so close to the rear platform where George stood +that it was almost as good as having George beside her. When there were +no other passengers on the same seat, George could lean in and chat +sociably.</p> + +<p>"Here's a letter for you," he announced, as Rosie settled herself. He +gave her a little folded paper and at the same time slipped a dime into +her hand with which, in all propriety, she was to pay her carfare.</p> + +<p>"I'll answer your note tomorrow," Rosie said.</p> + +<p>Duty called George to the front of the car and Rosie peeped hastily into +his letter. "<em>My dear little Sweetheart,</em>" it ran; "<em>Say, what do you +think? I'm off Labour Day afternoon, so we can go to the Parade. Say, +kid, I'm just crazy about you. George.</em>"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>So that settled the Tom Sullivan business. Rosie felt a little sorry +about Tom because Tom did like her. It couldn't be helped, though, for a +girl simply can't divide herself up into sections for all the men that +want her. She would let Tom down as easily as possible. It might comfort +him to take her to the movies. Rosie could easily manage that by +suggesting a time when George Riley was busy.</p> + +<p>The car was pretty well filled on the down trip, so George had little +time for chatting. Rosie was patient as she knew that, on the return +trip, the car would be empty or nearly so.</p> + +<p>"All out!" George cried at the end of the route, and everybody but Rosie +meekly obeyed.</p> + +<p>George was about to pull the bell, when Rosie called: "Wait, Jarge! +There comes a girl!"</p> + +<p>The girl was half running, half staggering, and George stepped off the +car to help her on. As the light of the car fell on the girl's face, +Rosie jumped to her feet, crying out in amazement: "Ellen!"</p> + +<p>Yes, it was Ellen, but not an Ellen they had ever seen before—an Ellen +with hat awry and trembling hands and a face red and swollen with +weeping.</p> + +<p>"George!" she sobbed hysterically, "is that you! I'm so glad! You'll +take me home, won't you? I haven't got a cent of carfare!"</p> + +<p>George helped her into the seat beside Rosie and started the car. Then +he leaned in over Rosie and demanded:</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Ellen? What's happened?"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +<a name="XXXIV" id="XXXIV"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXXIV</span><br /> +<br /> +THE KIND-HEARTED GENTLEMAN</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">For</span> several moments Ellen sobbed and shook without trying to speak. +Then, instead of answering George's question, she turned solemnly to +Rosie. "Oh, kid," she begged, "promise me you'll never have anything to +do with a man like Philip Hawes!" There was an unexpected tenderness in +her tone but this, far from touching Rosie, stirred up all the +antagonism in her nature. Why, forsooth, should Ellen be giving her such +advice? Was she the member of the family who was given to chasing men +like Philip Hawes? Rosie sat up stiffly and turned her face straight +ahead.</p> + +<p>Upon George the effect of Ellen's words was different. He leaned farther +in, his neck surging with blood, his little eyes growing round and +fierce. "What do you mean, Ellen? Has that fellow been insulting you?"</p> + +<p>Ellen was sobbing again and swaying herself back and forth. "Oh, George, +I'm so humiliated I feel like I could never hold up my head again!"</p> + +<p>George's strong fist was clenching and unclenching. "What did that +fellow do to you?"</p> + +<p>"It was my own fault!" Ellen wailed. "He was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> perfectly right: I knew +what he was after all along. Any girl would know. But I was so sure I +could hold my own all right. Oh, what fools girls are!" Ellen went off +into another doleful wail. "Of course he had given hints before and I +had always let on I didn't understand him. But tonight he came right out +with it. He put it straight up to me and when I wouldn't, oh, I can't +tell you the awful things he said!"</p> + +<p>George breathed hard. "So he's that kind of a scoundrel, is he?"</p> + +<p>"And, George," Ellen wept, "I'm not that kind of a girl! Honest I'm not! +Am I, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie, frozen and miserable, with a sickening realization of how things +were going to end, was still looking straight ahead. She wanted to +answer Ellen's question with a truthful, "I am sure I don't know what +kind of a girl you are!" but something restrained her and she said +nothing.</p> + +<p>Ellen seemed hardly to expect an answer, for she went on immediately: +"I've been a fool, George, an awful fool; I see that now; but I've +always been straight—honest I have! You can ask everybody that knows +me!"</p> + +<p>George was breathing with difficulty. "I'd like to get at that Hawes +fellow for about five minutes! Will he be in his office tomorrow, around +noon?"</p> + +<p>Ellen wrung protesting hands. "No, George, you won't do any such thing! +I won't let you! You'll only get pulled in! Besides, he was right!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +Leastways, he was in some things! Of course I knew what he was always +hinting about but honest, George, I didn't know the rest!"</p> + +<p>"What didn't you know?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know my work was so bad that he'd been getting it done over +every day! I know I'm pretty poor at it. I know perfectly well why I was +never able to keep a job. But he kept saying that I suited him just +right and I was such a fool that I thought I did.... And, George, we +were having supper at one of those sporty places out on the Island. I +knew it wasn't a nice place, but I thought it was all right because I +had an escort. And he kept talking louder and louder until the people at +the other tables could hear and they began laughing and joking. Then +some one shouted, 'Throw her out!' and I got so frightened I could +hardly stand up. I don't know how I got away. And, George, I hadn't +enough money in my bag for a ticket on the boat and some man gave me a +dime...."</p> + +<p>The car went on with scarcely a stop the whole way out. Occasionally the +motorman looked back, inquisitive to know what the matter was but too +far away to hear. Some time before they reached the end of the route, +Ellen had finished her story. The recital relieved her overwrought +feelings; her sobs quieted; her tears ceased. By the time they alighted +from the car, her manner had regained its usual composure.</p> + +<p>She and Rosie waited outside the office until<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> George had made out his +accounts and deposited his collections. Then all three started home.</p> + +<p>For half an hour Rosie had not spoken. Neither of the others knew this, +for Ellen, of course, had been too engrossed in herself, and George too +engrossed in her, to notice it. Rosie was with them but not of them. She +walked beside them now close enough to touch them with her hand but +feeling separated from them by worlds of space. Her heart was like a +little lump of ice that hurt her every time it beat. She waited in a +sort of frozen misery for what she felt sure was coming. At last it +came.</p> + +<p>"George," Ellen began. There was a note of soft pleading in her voice +that Rosie had never heard before. "Oh, George, I wonder if you'll ever +forgive me for the way I've been treating you?"</p> + +<p>"Aw, go on!" George's words were gruff but their tone fairly trembled +with joy.</p> + +<p>"I mean it, George," Ellen went on. "I've been as many kinds of a fool +as a girl can be and I'm so ashamed of myself that I can hardly talk."</p> + +<p>"Aw, Ellen," George pleaded.</p> + +<p>"And I've been horribly selfish, too, and I've imposed on ma and Rosie +here until they both must hate me." Ellen paused but Rosie made no +denial. "And I've treated you like a dog, George, making fun of you and +insulting you and teasing you. And, George, of all the men I've ever +known you're the only one that's clean and honest right straight +through. I see that now."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>Ellen began crying softly, making pathetic little noises that irritated +Rosie beyond measure but were like to reduce George to a state of utter +helplessness.</p> + +<p>"Aw, Ellen," he begged, "please don't talk that way!"</p> + +<p>But Ellen wanted to talk that way. She insisted on talking that way. Her +pride had been dragged in the dust but, by this time, she was finding +that dust, besides being choking, is also warm and friendly and +soothing. Enforced humiliation is bitter but, once accepted, how sweet +it is, how comforting! Witness the saints and martyrs, and be not +surprised that Ellen O'Brien finally acknowledged as true all the +charges her late admirer had made. The fact was he had been too gentle +with her! She was worse, far worse than even he had supposed. She didn't +see how any one could ever again tolerate the mere sight of her!</p> + +<p>"Oh, George, how you must hate me!" she murmured brokenly.</p> + +<p>"Hate you!" George protested breathlessly. "Why, kid, I'm just crazy +about you!"</p> + +<p>Rosie, listening, caught her breath sharply. Her phrase, which she had +laboured hard to teach him! But where had he got the deep vibrating tone +with which he spoke it? Rosie had never heard that before.</p> + +<p>After a moment, Ellen quavered: "Even—even yet, George?"</p> + +<p>"Even yet!" George cried in the same wonderful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> voice that sent little +thrills up and down Rosie's back. "Why, Ellen girl, don't you know that +ever since the first day I saw you you've been the onliest girl for me!"</p> + +<p>His arm was around her now, straining her to him, and Rosie knew, but +for her own presence, he would be kissing her.</p> + +<p>"I—I don't see why, George."</p> + +<p>"But it's so, Ellen, it's so!"</p> + +<p>They walked on a few moments in silence. Then George began soberly: "Of +course, Ellen, you know I'm only a farmer and you know you've always +said you'd never live in the country."</p> + +<p>"George, don't remind me of all the foolish things I've said! Please, +don't! Why, if I could go to the country this minute, I'd go and never +come back! I hate the city! I wish I'd never have to see it again!"</p> + +<p>George gasped an incredulous, "Really, Ellen? Do you really mean it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, really!" Ellen declared vehemently and George, untroubled to +account for this sudden revulsion of feeling, threw up his head with a +joyous laugh.</p> + +<p>When they reached home, George said to Ellen: "Don't you want to sit out +here on the porch a little while?"</p> + +<p>Nobody invited Rosie to stay. She hesitated a moment, then said primly: +"Good-night, everybody."</p> + +<div><a name="she" id="she"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 430px;"> +<img src="images/i-006.jpg" width="430" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">She read it again by the light of the candle.</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>"Good-night," they chorused politely, as they might to any stranger.</p> + +<p>Rosie started in, then turned back. "And, Jarge, I forgot to tell you +about Monday afternoon. I'm sorry I can't go with you but Tom Sullivan +invited me first."</p> + +<p>"That so?" George said, and from his tone, Rosie knew that he didn't +understand what she was talking about. Worse still, he wasn't interested +enough to find out.</p> + +<p>Rosie dragged herself slowly upstairs. In the bedroom, when she felt for +matches, she discovered that her hand was still clutching the note which +George had given her earlier in the evening. She read it again by the +light of the candle. "<em>... Say, kid, I'm just crazy about you!...</em>" +Jackie turned over in his sleep and Rosie hastily blew out the candle +for fear he should open his eyes and see her tears.</p> + +<p>She groped her way to bed in the dark and wept herself miserably to +sleep.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +<a name="XXXV" id="XXXV"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXXV</span><br /> +<br /> +ELLEN MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">The</span> next morning at breakfast Ellen declared herself. She addressed her +mother, but what she had to say was for the whole family.</p> + +<p>"I just want to tell you, Ma, I'm done with stenography forever. 'Tain't +my line and I know it and I should have known it long ago. Now you +needn't argue because that's all there is about it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked at Ellen blankly. "Why—why, Ellen dear," she +stammered, "what's this I hear you saying?"</p> + +<p>Ellen repeated her announcement slowly and distinctly.</p> + +<p>"But, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien protested, "how can you talk so and the +beautiful way you've been getting on and the beautiful way Mr. Hawes has +been treating you? And what will Mr. Hawes say—poor, kind-hearted +gentleman that he is! Oh, Ellen dear, with your fine looks and your fine +education I beg you not to throw it all away!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien mopped her eyes with her apron and pleaded on. It did not +occur to her to ask the reason for Ellen's sudden decision. After all, +sudden decisions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> were merely characteristic of Ellen. Terence, however, +peered at his sister sharply.</p> + +<p>"Huh! Seems to me stenography was all right yesterday! What's happened +to make you change your mind? Did that Hawes fellow say something to you +last night at the Island?"</p> + +<p>Ellen had decided that the family were not to know the details of the +previous night's adventure and, before they came down in the morning, +she had pledged Rosie to secrecy. Yet some sort of explanation had to be +offered. She looked at Terry now with a candour that was new to her and +that did much to win his support.</p> + +<p>"Terry," she began slowly, with none of her usual aggressiveness, "you +always thought my going to that business college and trying to do office +work was foolish. You've said so all along. I didn't use to believe you +were right but I do now. I'd never do decent office work in a hundred +years. I'm sorry all the money you and dad had to put up and I'll pay +you back if I can."</p> + +<p>"Gee!" murmured Terry in astonishment, "you sure must have got some +blowing up to make you feel that way about it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the way I do feel," Ellen said quietly.</p> + +<p>"But, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien wailed, "you don't mean it—I know you don't! +Why, what'll you do if you throw up this fine position with Mr. Hawes? +Nowadays a girl can't sit at home and do nothing!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> She's either got to +work or get married." Mrs. O'Brien paused with a new idea which her own +words suggested to her. "Is it—is it that you're getting married?"</p> + +<p>Ellen spoke quickly: "Ma, I expect to work and I'm going to work. But +I'm going to do something I can do well."</p> + +<p>"That you can do well!" echoed Mrs. O'Brien. "I don't rightly catch your +meanin', Ellen. Here you've landed a fine position and your boss is a +nice friendly gentleman and now you're turning your back on it all to +take up something else! I don't understand you at all, at all! And to +think," Mrs. O'Brien concluded brokenly, "of the skirts and shirtwaists +that I've stayed up all hours of the night to iron for you, just to keep +you lookin' sweet and clean down at that office!"</p> + +<p>"Ma, I'm sorry to disappoint you—honest I am. But, don't you see, it's +just this way: I've made a bad mistake and the sooner I get out of it +the better it will be for me. What I ought to do is something I can do."</p> + +<p>"Something you can do, indeed! And will you tell me, me lady, what is it +you can do so much better than stenography?"</p> + +<p>Ellen flushed but answered firmly: "I can trim hats."</p> + +<p>"Trim hats!" screamed Mrs. O'Brien. "What's this ye're sayin'? Do you +mean to tell me that you're willing to be a milliner when you might be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> +a stenographer? Why, anybody at all can go and be a milliner!"</p> + +<p>"Anybody can't be a fine milliner. And you needn't think there isn't +good money in millinery. The head of a big millinery department gets a +couple of thousand a year!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien blinked her eyes. "Has some one been offering you that kind +of a position?" Her tears ceased to flow. Once again she beamed on Ellen +with all her old-time pride. "Ah, Ellen, you rogue, you're keeping +something back! Come, tell me what's happened!"</p> + +<p>Ellen sighed helplessly. "Ma, I'm trying to tell you, but you make it +awful hard for me. You go off every minute and don't give me a chance to +finish."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien folded her hands complacently. "Ellen dear, I won't utter +another syllable—I promise you I won't. Now tell me in two words what's +happened."</p> + +<p>"Well, Ma, it's this: I'm through with stenography and I'm going in for +millinery, which I think I can do better."</p> + +<p>"But where, Ellen, where are you going in for it? That's the great +p'int!"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to try Hattie Graydon's aunt first. She always says that not +one of the girls in her shop begins to have the taste that I've got, and +one time she told me if ever I wanted a job to come to her."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>The happy look in Mrs. O'Brien's face slowly faded. Tears again filled +her eyes. "And is that all you've got to tell me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Ma, that's all. I'm going down to see Miss Graydon this morning."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ellen, Ellen, to think of your doing a thing like that without +asking the advice of a soul! You're a foolish, headstrong girl!"</p> + +<p>Ellen dropped her eyes. "George Riley thinks I'm doing right."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked up sharply.</p> + +<p>"Jarge Riley indeed! And may I ask what Jarge Riley's got to with it?"</p> + +<p>"George and me are friends again. I thought I better tell you."</p> + +<p>In Mrs. O'Brien amazement took the place of grief. "Ellen O'Brien, do +you mean to tell me that you've took up with Jarge Riley when you might +have had a gentleman like Mr. Hawes?"</p> + +<p>The flush that her mother's words excited was one of anger as well as +embarrassment. "Ma, you listen to me: I've never once told you that I +might have Mr. Hawes! You've made that up yourself!"</p> + +<p>"Made it up myself, indeed! when he's been taking you out night after +night and treating you like a real lady!"</p> + +<p>"And what's more," Ellen went on vehemently, "George Riley's worth +twenty Philip Hawses!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked at her sharply. "Is it that you're going to marry +Jarge Riley?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>Ellen, breathing hard, made answer a little unsteadily: "Yes."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien dropped back limply into her chair. "Mercy on us!" she +wailed, "and is this the end of your fine looks and your fine +education—to marry a farmer like Jarge Riley! Why, you could have had +him without any business college or nothing!"</p> + +<p>Ellen stood up and Mrs. O'Brien, her face woe-begone and tragic, made +one last appeal: "Ellen O'Brien, I ask you in all seriousness, are you +determined to throw yourself away like that?"</p> + +<p>Ellen was nothing if not determined. "I'm going down to Miss Graydon's +now," she said in a casual tone which ended all discussion; "and me and +George will probably get married in the spring."</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +<a name="XXXVI" id="XXXVI"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXXVI</span><br /> +<br /> +THE HAPPY LOVER</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">It</span> was several days before Mrs. O'Brien regained her usual complacency. +"'Tain't that I've got anything against you, Jarge," she explained many +times to her prospective son-in-law. "I'm really fond of you and I treat +you like one of me own. But what with her fine looks and her fine +education I was expecting something better for Ellen. Why, Jarge, she +ought to be marrying a Congressman at least. Now I ask you frankly, +don't you think so yourself?"</p> + +<p>For George the situation was far from a happy one. To be the confidant +of Mrs. O'Brien in this particular disappointment was embarrassing, to +say the least. Moreover, certain of Mrs. O'Brien's objections were +somewhat difficult to meet and yet they had to be met and met often, for +Mrs. O'Brien harped on them constantly.</p> + +<p>"And, Jarge dear, if you do go marry her and carry her off to the +country, what will you do with her out there? Tell me that, now! For +meself I can't see Ellen milkin' a cow."</p> + +<div><a name="to" id="to"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 406px;"> +<img src="images/i-007.jpg" width="406" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">To be the confidant of Mrs. O'Brien in this particular +disappointment was embarrassing, to say the least.</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>George tried hard to explain that milking cows was not the only activity +open to a farmer's wife; that, in all probability, Ellen would never be +called on to milk a cow. His protests were vain, for, to Mrs. O'Brien, +milking a cow stood not so much for a definite occupation as for a +general symbol of country life. George might talk an hour and very often +did and, at the end of that time, Mrs. O'Brien would sigh mournfully and +remark: "Say what you will, Jarge, I tell you one thing: I can't see +Ellen milkin' a cow."</p> + +<p>Moreover, life with Ellen was not at once the long sweet song that +George had expected. Not that she was the old imperious Ellen of biting +speech and quick temper. She was not. All that was passed. She was quiet +now, and docile, anxious to please and always ready for anything he +might suggest. Would she like a street-car ride tonight? Yes, a +street-car ride would be very nice. Or the movies or a walk? She would +like whatever he wanted. Her gentleness touched him but caused him +disquiet, too, because he could not help realizing that a great part of +it was apathy. One thing pleased her as much as another, which is pretty +nearly the same as saying one thing bored her as much as another.</p> + +<p>"But, Ellen," he protested more than once, "you don't have to go if you +don't want to!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I want to," she would insist in tones that were far from +convincing.</p> + +<p>George could not help recalling the eager joy with which Rosie used to +greet each new expedition.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> Why wasn't Ellen the same, he wondered in +helpless perplexity. He went through all the little attentions which +Rosie had taught him and a thousand more, and Ellen received them with a +quiet, "Thanks," or a half-hearted, "You're awful kind, George."</p> + +<p>"Kind nuthin'!" he shouted once. "I don't believe you care one straw for +me or for anything I do for you!"</p> + +<p>His outburst startled her and, for a moment, she faltered. Then she +said: "I don't see how you can say that, George. I think you're just as +good and kind as you can be."</p> + +<p>"Good and kind!" he spluttered. "What do I care about being good and +kind? What I want is love!"</p> + +<p>"Well, don't I love you?" She looked at him beseechingly and put her +hand on his shoulder. Her caresses were infrequent and this one, slight +as it was, was enough to fire his blood and muddle his understanding.</p> + +<p>"You do love me, don't you?" he begged, pulling her to him, and she, as +usual, submitting without a protest, said, yes, she did.</p> + +<p>A word, a touch, and Ellen could always silence any misgiving. But such +misgivings had a way of returning, once George was alone. Then he would +wish that he had Rosie to talk things over with. He was used to talking +things over with Rosie. For some reason, though, he never saw Rosie now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +except for a moment when she handed him his supper-pail each evening at +the cars. At other times she seemed always to be out on errands or on +jaunts with Janet and Tom Sullivan. George looked upon Tom as a jolly +decent youngster and he was pleased that the intimacy between him and +Rosie was growing. But at the same time he could not help feeling a +little hurt that Rosie should so completely forget him. True, he was +bound up heart and soul in Ellen and now he was her accepted lover. +That, it seemed to him, ought to be happiness enough and he told himself +that it was enough. Then he would sigh and wonder why he wasn't as +light-heartedly gay as he used to be when he and Rosie went about +together. Rosie, apparently, had entirely forgotten what good chums they +once had been. Well, after all, he couldn't blame her, for she was only +a child.</p> + +<p>George did not know and probably never would know that Rosie was +watching him and watching over him with all the faithfulness of a little +dog and that she knew all there was to know of the situation between him +and Ellen.</p> + +<p>George had set the latter part of September as the time for his return +to the country. For four long years he had been working and saving for +this very event. Several times before he had been about to leave but +always, at the last moment, some untoward circumstance had crippled his +finances and he had been forced to stay on in the city another few +months. Now for the first time he could go and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> now he was loath to go. +But he had made his announcement and all his little world was standing +about, waiting to see him off and to bid him god-speed.</p> + +<p>He was ashamed to acknowledge even to himself the indecision that was +tugging at his heart. "Don't you think, Ellen," he ventured at last, "it +might be just as well if I waited till Christmas?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, George!" Ellen looked at him with a shocked expression. "I don't +see how you can say such a thing after the way you've been waiting all +these years! Besides, what would your poor mother say if you didn't come +now that you could? You've told me yourself how the burden of things has +fallen on her more and more and how anxious you are to relieve her."</p> + +<p>"I know," George acknowledged; "but, Ellen girl, don't you see I can't +bear to leave you now I've got you. I've had you for such a little +while!"</p> + +<p>"Won't you have me just the same, even if you are in the country? +Besides, you'll be getting things ready for me by spring."</p> + +<p>George took a sharp breath. "But I want you now!"</p> + +<p>Ellen looked at him gravely. "See here, George, there's no use talking +that way. You've got to work and I've got to work, and if we don't get +our work done this winter it'll be all the worse for both of us when +spring comes. Your father's expecting to hand over the management of the +farm to you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> this fall and it's up to you to take it. Ain't I right?"</p> + +<p>George sighed. "I suppose you are."</p> + +<p>"Then don't be foolish. Besides you can come down and see me at +Thanksgiving."</p> + +<p>George gasped. "Why, Ellen, I expect to see you before that! I could +come in and stay over Sunday 'most any week."</p> + +<p>"No, George, you mustn't do that! I won't let you!" Ellen spoke +vehemently. "It would only cost you money and you know perfectly well +you need every cent of cash you've got! Once you're back in the country +you won't be getting in three dollars a day ready money. No! You'll come +to see me Thanksgiving and not before."</p> + +<p>Ellen was right. It would be necessary for him to hoard like a miser his +little stock of money until the farm should once again be on a paying +basis.</p> + +<p>George sighed gloomily and went about his preparations for departure.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +<a name="XXXVII" id="XXXVII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXXVII</span><br /> +<br /> +THE SISTERS</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Ellen</span> and Rosie saw him off. Rosie wept openly.</p> + +<p>"And, Jarge," she said, kissing him good-bye, "give your mother and your +father my love, but especially your mother. Tell her that I love her and +that I think of her every day. You won't forget, will you? And tell her +that Geraldine is fat and well and has been ever since we got home from +the country."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, George," Ellen said quietly. Her face was pale and there was +a strained expression about eyes and mouth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ellen!" George gave her one last wild kiss and rushed madly through +the gate.</p> + +<p>His coach was far down the train shed and Rosie and Ellen soon lost +sight of his hurrying figure. They stood together at the gate and waited +until the train started.</p> + +<p>As it pulled away Ellen sighed deeply. "Thank goodness he's gone!" She +leaned against the grating and laughed hysterically.</p> + +<p>Rosie, who had been dabbing her eyes with a wet handkerchief, looked up +blankly. "Ellen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> O'Brien, what do you mean? Are you glad he's gone?"</p> + +<p>"You bet I'm glad!" Ellen's silly high-pitched laugh continued until +silenced by Rosie's look of scornful fury.</p> + +<p>"Ellen O'Brien, you're worse than I thought you were!"</p> + +<p>Ellen faltered a moment, then reached toward Rosie appealingly. "Don't +be too hard on me, Rosie. You don't know the awful time I've had. I feel +like I've been dead. I haven't been able to breathe. I don't mean it was +his fault. I think as much of him as you do—really I do. He's good and +he's kind and he's honest and he's everything he ought to be. But if +he'd ha' stayed much longer I'd ha' smothered."</p> + +<p>Rosie, accusing angel and stern judge rolled into one, demanded gravely: +"And now that he's gone what are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"What am I going to do?" Ellen's laugh was still a little beyond her +control, but it had in it a note of happy relief that was unmistakable. +"I'm going to live again—at least for the little time that's left me."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by 'the little time that's left you'?"</p> + +<p>"From now till Thanksgiving; from Thanksgiving till spring." For an +instant Ellen's face clouded. Then she cried: "But I'm not going to +think of spring! I'm going to have my fling now!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>Rosie looked at her without speaking and, as she looked, it seemed to +her that the Ellen of other days rose before her. It was as though a +pale nun-like creature had been going about in Ellen's body, answering +to Ellen's name. Now, at George's departure as at the touch of a magic +wand, the old Ellen was back with eyes that sparkled once again and +cheeks into which the colour was returning in waves. Yes, she was the +old Ellen, eager for life and excitement and thirsting for admiration. +But the old Ellen with a difference. Now, instead of estranging Rosie +utterly with careless bravado, she strove to win her understanding.</p> + +<p>"You don't know how I feel, Rosie; you can't, because you and me are +made differently. You're perfectly happy if you've got some one to love +and take care of—you know you are! With me it's different. I don't want +to take care of people and work for them and slave for them. I want to +have a good time myself! I'm just crazy about it! I know I ought to be +ashamed, but can I help it? That's the way I am. Do you think I'm very +awful, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie answered truthfully: "I'm not thinking of you at all. I'm thinking +of poor Jarge."</p> + +<p>Ellen gave a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness I can give up thinking of +him for a while." She began patting her hair and arranging her hat. "Do +I look all right, Rosie? I got to hurry back to the shop. A feather +salesman is coming today and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> Miss Graydon wants me to take care of him. +He'll probably invite me out to lunch."</p> + +<p>"And are you going?" Rosie asked slowly.</p> + +<p>Ellen took a long happy breath. "You bet I'm going!"</p> + +<p>"Ellen O'Brien, if you do, I'll tell Jarge! I will just as sure!"</p> + +<p>For an instant Ellen was staggered. Then she recovered. "No, Rosie, +you'll do no such thing! What you'll do is this: you'll mind your own +business!"</p> + +<p>Rosie tried to protest but her voice failed her, for the look in Ellen's +eye betokened a will as strong as her own and a determination to brook +no interference.</p> + +<p>Ellen started off, then paused to repeat: "You'll mind your own +business! Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>Ellen walked on and Rosie called after her, a little wildly: "I won't! I +won't! I tell you I won't!"</p> + +<p>But she knew she would.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +<a name="XXXVIII" id="XXXVIII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXXVIII</span><br /> +<br /> +ELLEN HAS HER FLING</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">It</span> is hard to be the self-appointed guardian of another's interests, for +one's standing is not, as it were, official. In the weeks that followed +Rosie felt this keenly. She gave up protesting to Ellen, for Ellen's +curt answer to everything she might say was always: "You mind your own +business!" Though she would not accept Ellen's dictum that George's +business was not hers, yet she was soon forced to give up direct action +and to seek her end through the interference of others. She tried her +mother.</p> + +<p>"I don't care what you say, Ma, Ellen's just as crooked as she can be, +acting this way with other fellows when she doesn't even deny that she's +engaged to Jarge. And you ought to stop it, too! There, the very first +week he was gone, she went out three nights hand-running with that +feather man from St. Louis. You know she did! And now she's got that new +little dude with an off eye and, besides, Larry Finn's come back. I tell +you it ain't fair to Jarge and you're to blame, too, if you don't stop +it!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien shared with Rosie the conviction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> that an engaged girl +ought not so much as raise her eyes to other men. She was done forever +with all men but one. Ellen, for some reason, did not feel this +instinctively and, if a girl does not feel it instinctively, how is she +to be made to feel it? Mrs. O'Brien sighed. Unknown to Rosie she had +tried to speak to Ellen. Ellen had not let her go very far.</p> + +<p>"Say, Ma, you dry up!" she had told her shortly. "I guess I know what +I'm doing."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you do," Mrs. O'Brien had murmured in humble apology; "but, +Ellen dear, be careful! There's a lot of people know you're engaged to +Jarge and I'm afraid they'll be talkin'."</p> + +<p>"Let 'em talk!" was Ellen's snappish answer.</p> + +<p>So when Rosie approached her mother on the same subject, Mrs. O'Brien +hemmed and hawed and ended by offering a defence of Ellen which sounded +hollow even to herself. "As for that feather fella, Rosie dear, you +mustn't get excited about him. It's a matter of business to keep him +jollied. Miss Graydon wants Ellen to be nice to him. And, as I says to +Ellen, 'If that's the case,' says I, 'of course you've got to accept his +little attentions. Miss Graydon,' says I, 'is your employer and a girl +ought always to please her employer.' As you know yourself, Rosie, +Ellen's certainly getting on beautifully in that shop. Miss Graydon told +me herself the other night that she had never had a girl so quick and +tasty with her needle and when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> I told her about me own poor dead +sister, Birdie, she said that explained it."</p> + +<p>"But, Ma," Rosie cried, "what about poor Jarge?"</p> + +<p>"Jarge? Why, Jarge is all right. He's out there in the country and you +know yourself he's crazy about the country. And more than that, Ellen +writes him a picture postcard every week. She gave me her word she'd do +it. I couldn't very well insist on her writing a letter, for you know +her long hours at the shop and it wouldn't be right to ask her to use +her eyes at night. 'But, Ellen dear,' says I to her, 'promise me +faithfully you'll never let a week go by without sending him a picture +postcard.' And she gave me her word she wouldn't."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien could always be depended on to obscure reason in a dust of +words, especially at times when it would be embarrassing to face reason +in the open. After three or four attempts to arouse her mother to some +sort of action, Rosie had to give up. She felt as keenly as ever that +George was being basely betrayed, but she saw no way to protect him. She +had not written to him since he left, but she wrote every week to his +mother on the pretext that Mrs. Riley was deeply interested in Geraldine +and must be kept informed of Geraldine's growth and health. Rosie always +put in a sentence about Ellen: "Ellen's very busy but very well," or +"Ellen's hours are much longer now than they used to be and she hasn't +so very much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> time to herself, but she likes millinery, so it's all +right,"—always something that would assure George of Ellen's well-being +and excuse, if necessary, her silence. Rosie hated herself for thus +apparently shielding Ellen but, in her anxiety to spare George, she +would have gone to almost any length.</p> + +<p>A sort of family pride kept her from confiding her worries to Janet +McFadden. Soon after George's departure she had remarked to Janet: "You +oughtn't to be surprised because you know the kind of girl Ellen is. +She's just got to amuse herself. Besides, you can't exactly blame her +because poor Jarge'd want her to have a good time." This attitude had +not in the least deceived Janet, but Janet was too tactful to question +it.</p> + +<p>The reasons for not talking to Janet did not apply to Danny Agin, who, +being old and of another generation, was philosophical rather than +personal and had long since mastered the art of forgetting confidences +when forgetting was more graceful than remembering. So at last Rosie +opened her heart to Danny.</p> + +<p>"Now take an engaged girl, Danny."</p> + +<p>Rosie paused and Danny, nodding his head, said: "For instance, a girl +like Ellen."</p> + +<p>Rosie was glad enough to be definite. "I don't mind telling you, Danny, +that it's Ellen I'm talking about. I just don't know what to do about it +and maybe you'll be able to help me."</p> + +<p>Danny listened carefully while Rosie slowly unfolded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> her story. "And, +Danny," she said, as she reached the present in her narrative, "that St. +Louis fellow's just dead gone on her—that's all there is about it. He's +sending her picture postcards every day or every other day. I can't help +knowing because they come to the house. I suppose he doesn't like to +send them to the shop where the other girls would see them. He used to +sign the postcards with his full name but now he only signs 'Harry.' +Now, Danny, do you think it's nice for a girl that's engaged to let +another fella send her postcards and sign 'em 'Harry'?"</p> + +<p>Danny ruminated a moment. "Well, if you ask me, Rosie, I don't believe +that's so awful bad."</p> + +<p>"But, Danny, that ain't all! Listen here: last week he sent a big box of +candy from Cleveland and this morning another box came from Pittsburg. +And there was a postcard this morning and what do you think it said? 'I +just can't wait till Saturday night!' And it was signed, 'With love, +Harry.' Now, Danny, what can that mean? I bet anything he's coming to +spend Sunday with her and, if he does come, what in the world am I to do +about it?"</p> + +<p>Danny patted her hand gently. "Rosie dear, I don't see that you're to do +anything about it. Why do you want to do anything? Isn't it Ellen's +little party?"</p> + +<p>Rosie shook off his hand impatiently. "I don't care about Ellen's side +of it! I'm thinking about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> Jarge! This kind of thing ain't square to +him, and that's all there is about it!"</p> + +<p>"Of course it ain't," Danny agreed. "But, after all, Rosie, if Ellen +prefers Harry to Jarge, I don't see what we can do about it."</p> + +<p>"But, Danny, she's engaged to Jarge!"</p> + +<p>"Well, maybe she'll get disengaged."</p> + +<p>Rosie shook her head. "You don't know Jarge. Jarge is a fighter. And +I'll tell you something else: once he gets a thing he never gives it up. +Now he's got Ellen or he thinks he's got her and he's going to keep her, +too. You just ought to see him when he's around Ellen. He's awful, +Danny, honest he is! He's so crazy about her that he forgets everything +else. If he thought she was fooling him, I think he might kill +her—really, Danny. And she's afraid of him, too. Why, if she wasn't +afraid of him, she'd break her engagement in a minute and tell him so. I +know that as well as I know anything. She expects to marry him. She's +scared not to now. But that don't keep her from letting those other +fellows act the fool with her. And if Jarge hears about them, I tell you +one thing: there's going to be the deuce to pay. Excuse the language, +Danny, but it's true."</p> + +<p>Danny was impressed but not as impressed as Rosie expected. "That's +worse than I thought," he admitted; "but I don't see that there's any +great danger. Jarge is in the country and not likely to pop in on her, +is he?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>"No," Rosie answered, "he's not coming till Thanksgiving."</p> + +<p>"Thanksgiving, do you say? Well, that's four weeks off. Plenty of things +can happen in four weeks."</p> + +<p>In spite of herself, Rosie began to feel reassured. "But, Danny," she +insisted, "even if it's not dangerous, don't you think it's crooked for +a girl that's engaged to let other men give her presents and take her +out?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe it is and maybe it ain't. I dunno. It's hard to make a rule about +it. You see it's this way, Rosie: When a girl's engaged she's usually in +love with the fella she's engaged to, or why is she engaged to him? Now, +when she's in love, she don't want presents from any but one man. +Presents from other fellas don't interest her. So, you see, there's no +need to be makin' a rule, for the thing settles itself. Now if Ellen is +getting presents from this new fella, Harry, it looks to me like she +ain't very much in love with Jarge."</p> + +<p>"That's exactly what I'm telling you, Danny. She's not."</p> + +<p>"So the likelihood is, she's not going to marry Jarge." Danny concluded +with a smile that was intended to cheer Rosie.</p> + +<p>"I wish she wasn't," Rosie murmured. Then she added hastily: "No, I +don't mean that, because it would break Jarge's heart!"</p> + +<p>Danny scoffed: "Break Jarge's heart, indeed!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> Many a young hothead +before Jarge has had a broken heart and got over it!"</p> + +<p>"But, Danny," Rosie wailed, "you don't know Jarge!"</p> + +<p>There were such depths of tenderness in Rosie's tone that Danny checked +the smile which was on his lips and made the hearty declaration: "He +sure is a fine lad, this same Jarge!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Danny, listen here: if Harry comes on Saturday, shall I tell +Jarge?"</p> + +<p>Danny looked at her kindly. "Mercy on us, Rosie, what a worryin' little +hen you are! If you ask me advice, I'd say: Let Saturday take care of +itself."</p> + +<p>Rosie wiped her eyes slowly. "It's all very well for you to talk that +way. But I tell you one thing: if Jarge was your dear friend like he's +mine, you wouldn't want to stand by and see this Harry fella cut him +out."</p> + +<p>Danny gave a non-committal sigh and looked away. "I don't know about +that, Rosie. I think it might be an awful good thing for Jarge if Harry +did cut him out."</p> + +<p>"But, Danny," Rosie cried, "think how it would hurt Jarge!"</p> + +<p>Danny's answer was unfeeling. "There's worse things can happen to a man +than being hurt."</p> + +<p>Rosie's manner stiffened perceptibly. "Very well, Mr. Agin, if that's +how you feel about it, I guess I better be going."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span>"Ah, don't go yet," Danny begged.</p> + +<p>Rosie, already started, turned back long enough to say, with frigid +politeness: "Good-bye, Mr. Agin."</p> + +<p>At the gate, her heart misgave her. Danny, after all, had spoken +according to his lights. It was not his fault so much as his limitation +that he should judge George Riley by the standard of other young men. +Rosie would be magnanimous.</p> + +<p>"I got to go anyhow, Danny," she called back sweetly.</p> + +<p>Danny's chuckle reached her faintly. "But you're coming again, Rosie +dear, aren't you? You know I'll be wanting to hear about Saturday."</p> + +<p>Danny was old and half sick, so Rosie felt she must be patient. "All +right," she sang out; "I'll come."</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> +<a name="XXXIX" id="XXXIX"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XXXIX</span><br /> +<br /> +THE WATCH-DOG</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">That</span> night at supper, Ellen remarked casually: "Harry's coming to town +on Saturday, and if he comes up here, I want you all to treat him nice."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien glanced at Rosie a little nervously. "But, Ellen dear," she +asked, "why does he want to be coming up here?"</p> + +<p>Ellen smiled on her mother patronisingly. "It looks like he wants to +call on me."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien lifted hands in vague protest. "But tell me, now, do you +think Jarge——" She hadn't courage to finish her sentence.</p> + +<p>Terence looked over to Rosie with a sudden chuckle. "Say, Rosie, +wouldn't it be fun if Jarge happened in? Let's drop him a line. Gee! +Maybe he wouldn't do a thing to that St. Louis guy!"</p> + +<p>"Ma!" Ellen admonished, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Terry lad," Mrs. O'Brien began, obediently, "I'm surprised at you +talkin' this way about the young gentleman that's coming to see your +poor sister Ellen on Saturday night."</p> + +<p>Terence pushed away his plate and began writing an imaginary postcard +with a spoon. "Dear Jarge," he read slowly; "Won't you please come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> in +on Saturday night? We're arranging a little surprise for Ellen. Yours +truly, Terence O'Brien. Gee!" Terry murmured thoughtfully, "I wish he +would come! It sure would be worth seeing!"</p> + +<p>"Now, Terry," Mrs. O'Brien begged, "promise me you'll do nuthin' so +foolish as that! You know yourself the awful temper Jarge has on him, +an' if he was to come I'm afeared there'd be something serious. Don't +you think, Ellen dear," she went on a little timidly, "that perhaps +you'd better tell Mr. Harry not to come this week?"</p> + +<p>Ellen looked at her mother defiantly. "I don't see why. This week's as +good as any other for me."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, don't you think that perhaps he'd better make you a little +call down at the shop? With so many children and things the house is a +wee bit untidy."</p> + +<p>"It's his own idea to come up here." Ellen paused, a trifle embarrassed. +"He says he wants to meet the family."</p> + +<p>"H'm!" murmured Terry. "He's not like your old friend, Mr. Hawes, is he, +Ellen?"</p> + +<p>Ellen flushed. "No, Terry, he's not a bit like Mr. Hawes."</p> + +<p>Small Jack piped up unexpectedly. "Is he like Jarge, Ellen?"</p> + +<p>"No, he's not like George, either."</p> + +<p>"Can he fight?"</p> + +<p>Ellen tossed her head. "I should hope not! Harry Long is a gentleman!" +Seeing that this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> was not a very strong recommendation to her brothers, +she added: "But, unless I'm very much mistaken, he's plenty able to take +care of himself. He's a fine swimmer, too."</p> + +<p>"Is he a sport, Ellen?" Terry asked.</p> + +<p>"He's certainly an elegant dresser, if that's what you mean. Just you +wait and see."</p> + +<p>Friday's letter put Ellen into something of a flurry.</p> + +<p>"Ma, Harry thinks it would be awful nice if you would invite him to +supper tomorrow night. He's coming to the shop in the morning. Then +he'll take me out to lunch and we'll go somewheres in the afternoon, and +he wants to know if we can't come back here for supper. He thinks that +would be a good way for him to meet the whole family."</p> + +<p>"Mercy on us!" Mrs. O'Brien wailed. "With all I've got to do, how can I +get up a fine supper for a sporty young gent like Mr. Harry? Can't you +keep him out, Ellen? I don't see why he's got to meet the family. We're +just like any other family: a father, a mother, and five children."</p> + +<p>"But, Ma, he makes such a point of it. I don't see how we can refuse. +Besides, you know he's been pretty nice to me taking me out to dinner +and things."</p> + +<p>"If he was only Jarge Riley now," Mrs. O'Brien mused, "I wouldn't mind +him at all, at all, for he wouldn't be a bit of trouble. Poor Jarge was +always just like one of the family, wasn't he?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span>Ellen drew her mother back to the subject of the moment. "So can I tell +him to come?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien sighed. "Oh, I suppose so. That is, if Rosie'll help me. I +tell you frankly, Ellen, I simply can't manage it alone."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien called Rosie to get the promise of her assistance. Rosie +listened quietly, then, instead of answering her mother, she turned to +her sister.</p> + +<p>"Ellen, I want to know one thing: Have you told this Harry about Jarge +Riley?"</p> + +<p>Ellen frowned. "I don't see what that's got to do with tomorrow's +supper."</p> + +<p>Rosie took a deep breath. "It's got a lot to do with it if I'm going to +help."</p> + +<p>For a moment the sisters measured each other in silence. Then Ellen +broke out petulantly:</p> + +<p>"Well, then, Miss Busybody, if you've got to know, I haven't! And, +what's more, I'm not going to!"</p> + +<p>"You're not going to, eh? We'll see about that." Rosie turned to her +mother. "Ma, I'll help you tomorrow night. We'll have a good supper. But +I want to give you both fair warning: if Ellen don't tell this Harry +about Jarge Riley, I will! She's trying to make a goat of both of them +and I'm not going to stand for it."</p> + +<p>"Ma!" screamed Ellen, "are you going to let her meddle with my affairs +like that? You make her mind her own business!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span>"Rosie dear," begged Mrs. O'Brien, "don't go excitin' your poor sister +Ellen by any such foolish threats. You'd only be causin' trouble, Rosie, +and I'm sure you don't want to do that. And, Ellen dear, don't raise +your voice. The neighbours will hear you."</p> + +<p>"I don't care!" Ellen shouted. "She's nothing but George's little +watch-dog, and I tell you I'm not going to stand it!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, Ellen dear," Mrs. O'Brien ventured timidly, "it might be just +as well if you did tell him about Jarge."</p> + +<p>Ellen burst into tears. "You're all against me, every one of you—that's +what you are! You're so afraid I'll have a good time! Isn't George +coming on Thanksgiving and aren't we to be married in the spring? I +should think that would suit you! But, no, you've got to spoil my fun +now and it's a mean shame—that's what it is!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, now, Ellen dear, don't you cry!" Mrs. O'Brien implored. "I'm sure +Rosie is not going to interfere, are you, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie regarded her sister's tears unmoved. "I'm going to do exactly what +I say I am, and Ellen knows I am."</p> + +<p>Ellen straightened herself with a shake. "Very well," she said shortly. +"I guess I can be mean, too! You just wait!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> +<a name="XL" id="XL"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XL</span><br /> +<br /> +MR. HARRY LONG EXPLAINS</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Rosie</span> was more than true to her promise. She prepared a good supper and, +in addition, made the kitchen neat and presentable, scrubbed Jack until +his skin and hair fairly shone with cleanliness, and, long before supper +time, had Mrs. O'Brien and Geraldine, both in holiday attire, seated in +state on the front porch to receive Ellen and her admirer.</p> + +<p>When Jack, who was perched on the front gate as family lookout, saw them +coming, he rushed back to the kitchen to give Rosie warning and Rosie +had time to slip behind the front door and, through the crack, to +witness the arrival.</p> + +<p>"And, Ellen dear," Mrs. O'Brien exclaimed in greeting, "do you mean to +tell me that this is your friend, Mr. Harry Long! If I do say it, Mr. +Long, I'm mighty pleased to see you! As I've said to Ellen, many's the +time, 'Why don't you bring your friend out to see me? Bring him any +time,' says I, 'for the friends of me children are always welcome in +this house.' And himself says the same thing, Mr. Long."</p> + +<p>The florid well-built young man who gave Rosie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> the impression of bright +tan shoes, gray spats, a fancy vest, and massive watchfob, waited, +smiling, until Mrs. O'Brien was done and then remarked in friendly, +cordial tones: "Just call me Harry, Mrs. O'Brien. I'm plain Harry to my +friends."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure you're among friends when you're here," Mrs. O'Brien +said with a downcast look of melting coyness. "But I fear you won't +think so if I keep you standing much longer. Won't you sit down, Mr.—I +mean, won't you sit down, Harry? You see, Harry," she continued, "I'm +taking you at your word. And now I must introduce Jackie to you. +Jackie's me second b'y. Now, Jackie dear, shake hands with Mr. Long and +tell him you're glad to see him. The baby's name, Harry, is Geraldine. +Besides her, I've got Terence who's a fine lad—oh, I know you'll be +glad to meet Terry!—and Rosie who's next to Terry and who's helping me +with the supper tonight so's to give me a chance to say 'How do you do' +to you. Ah, if I do say it, I've a fine brood of children and never a +word of bickering among them.... Now, Jackie dear, like a good b'y, will +you run upstairs and tell your da to come down this minute, that we're +waiting for him, and then run into the kitchen and ask sister Rosie if +the supper's ready."</p> + +<p>Rosie slipped hurriedly back to the kitchen and then, through Jack, +summoned the family in.</p> + +<p>When she was presented to the newcomer, she added to her first +impressions the smooth pinkish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> face of a city-bred man who had never +been exposed to the real violence of sun and wind, a cravat pin and seal +ring that were fellows to the watchfob, and hands that bore themselves +as if a little conscious of a recent visit to the manicure.</p> + +<p>As Rosie gathered in these details, she saw, in contrast, the figure of +George Riley: the roughened weatherbeaten face, the cheap ill-fitting +clothes, the big hands coarsened with work, the heavy feet. Ellen, of +course, and girls like Ellen would be taken in by the new man's flashy +appearance and easy confident manner, but not Rosie. Rosie hated him on +sight! She knew the difference between tinsel and solid worth and she +longed to cry out to him: "You needn't think you can fool me, because +you can't! Any one can dress well who spends all he makes on clothes! +But how much money have you got salted away in the bank? Tell me that, +now!"</p> + +<p>She had to shake hands with him, but when he stooped down to kiss her, +she jerked away and glared at him like an angry little cat.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rosie!" Mrs. O'Brien exclaimed in shocked tones, "is that the way +you treat a family friend like Mr. Harry?"</p> + +<p>"Family friend!" stormed Rosie; "I've never laid eyes on him before and +neither have you!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien's embarrassment deepened. "Rosie, I'm ashamed of you! Is +that the way for you to be treatin' a gentleman who's taking supper with +us? I tell you frankly I'm ashamed of you!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span>Jamie O'Brien cleared his throat. "See here, Maggie, Rosie's perfectly +right. There's no call for her to be kissing a stranger. She's too big a +girl for that."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien looked at her husband blankly. "Jamie O'Brien, how you +talk! Do you think it's becoming to call a man a stranger who's sitting +down with you at your own table?"</p> + +<p>Jamie turned to his guest politely. "I'm sure, Mr. Long, I don't know +what all this noise is about. I'm like Rosie here. I've never seen you +before to me knowledge. But that's neither here nor there. You're here +now and you're welcome, and I hope we'll be friends. So let us drop the +argument and sit down."</p> + +<p>It was an awkward beginning, but Jamie refused to be embarrassed and, +after a moment of silence, the others tried hard to follow his example.</p> + +<p>Harry was evidently bent on pleasing.</p> + +<p>"Ever been in St. Louis, Mr. O'Brien?" He spoke with a proprietorial air +as one might of a household pet, pronouncing the name of his city Louie. +"Fine place, St. Louie!"</p> + +<p>"For meself," Jamie answered unexpectedly, "I never much cared for it. +It's a hot hole!"</p> + +<p>Ellen flushed. "Why, Dad!"</p> + +<p>Jamie looked up impatiently. "What's the matter now?"</p> + +<p>"Dad, don't you know that St. Louie is where Harry lives?"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>"I do not!" Jamie answered truthfully. "And, if you ask me, Ellen, I +don't see why I should."</p> + +<p>"Jamie O'Brien!" Mrs. O'Brien gasped, "what's come over you? I haven't +heard you talk so much at table in ten years!" She turned to her guest. +"Would you believe me, Harry, there are weeks on end when I never get a +word out of him! Sometimes I think I'll forget how to talk meself for +lack of some one to exchange a word with! And to think," she concluded, +"that Jamie's been in St. Louie! I give you me word of honour I never +heard that before! Tell me, Jamie, when was it?"</p> + +<p>Jamie ruminated a moment. "It must have been before we were married."</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head. "That just proves what I always say: +little a woman can know about a man before she marries him."</p> + +<p>She talked on and Harry gave her every encouragement, laughing heartily +at her anecdotes, asking further details, and making himself so +generally pleasant that, before supper was half done, the opening +embarrassment was forgotten and Mrs. O'Brien was exclaiming: "Well, +Harry, I must say one thing: I feel like I'd known you forever!"</p> + +<p>Harry glanced at Ellen. "Shall we tell them?"</p> + +<p>Ellen drew a quick breath. "We've got to sometime," she murmured.</p> + +<p>Harry beamed on Mrs. O'Brien. "I'm mighty glad to hear you say that, +Mrs. O'Brien. There's nothing would please me better than to have you +like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> me. In fact, I'm hoping you like me well enough to take me for a +son-in-law!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien gasped: "What's this you're saying, Harry?"</p> + +<p>Rosie, pale and tense, stood up. "Ellen," she said, looking straight at +her sister, "have you told him about Jarge Riley?"</p> + +<p>Ellen laughed a little unsteadily. "Yes, Rosie, I told him. And I see +now you were right. It wasn't fair to Harry not to tell him. And I want +to apologize for getting so mad."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Rosie was right," Harry repeated, smiling at her kindly. "Rosie +must have known I was dead gone on Ellen and meant business."</p> + +<p>Rosie was not to be taken in by any such palaver as that. "No, Mr. Long, +you're mistaken. I was only thinking about Jarge Riley. Ellen's going to +marry him in the spring."</p> + +<p>Harry still smiled at her ingratiatingly. "She's not going to marry him +now, Rosie. She can't because, don't you see, she married me this +afternoon!"</p> + +<p>"What!" Rosie, feeling suddenly sick and weak, crumpled down into her +chair, a nerveless little mass that gaped and blinked and waited for the +world to come to an end.</p> + +<p>There was a pause broken at last by an hysterical laugh from Ellen. +"Don't look at me like that, Rosie! I should think you'd be glad I was +married to some one else!"</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span>Ellen's words brought Rosie to her senses. "I am glad!" she cried. "You +never cared two straws about Jarge, anyhow! But why did you have to be +so crooked with him? When he finds out the way you've done this, it'll +just break his heart! I guess I know!"</p> + +<p>Jamie O'Brien cleared his throat. "Rosie, you talk too much! Will you +just hold your tongue a minute while I find out what all this clatter's +about. Mr. Long, sir, will you be so good as to explain things?"</p> + +<p>There was no smile on Jamie's face and Harry, looking at him, seemed to +realize that it was not a time for pleasantries.</p> + +<p>"I hope, Mr. O'Brien," he began soberly, "that you'll forgive me for not +taking things more slowly. I expected to until this morning when Ellen +told me about this Riley fellow. Then I sort of lost my head. I was +afraid of delays and misunderstandings. I've been just crazy about +Ellen. The first time I saw her I knew she was the girl for me and I +came to town today to tell her so. I suppose she knew what I was going +to say and down at the shop, the very first thing, she began telling me +about Riley. Mighty straight of her, I call it. She had got herself +engaged to him but she didn't want to marry him, and it just seemed to +me that the easiest way out of things was for us to get married right +quick. So we hustled over the river and got to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> courthouse just +before closing time. It was really my fault, Mr. O'Brien. I made Ellen +do it."</p> + +<p>Jamie looked at Ellen thoughtfully. "I don't believe you'd have made her +do it if she hadn't wanted to do it."</p> + +<p>"You're right, Dad," Ellen said; "I did want to. I didn't know how +little I cared about George or any one else until Harry came along. +George is good and kind and all that, but we'd never have made a team. I +knew it perfectly well and I was wrong not to tell him so."</p> + +<p>Jamie nodded his head. "You're right, Ellen. You've treated him pretty +badly."</p> + +<p>Her father's apparent blame of Ellen brought Mrs. O'Brien back to life +and to speech. "Jamie O'Brien, I don't see how you can talk so about +poor Ellen! You know yourself many's the time I've said to you, 'I can't +see Ellen milkin' a cow.' For me own part I think she's wise to choose +the life she has."</p> + +<p>"Do you know the life she's chosen?" Jamie asked quietly. "I'm frank to +say I don't." He turned to Harry. "Since you're me son-in-law, Mr. Long, +perhaps you'll be willing to tell me who you are."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dad!" Ellen murmured, and Mrs. O'Brien whispered, "Why, Jamie!"</p> + +<p>Harry flushed but answered promptly: "I'm twenty-six years old. I'm a +St. Louie man. I'm a travelling salesman for the Great Ostrich Feather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> +Company, head office at St. Louie. I'm on a twenty dollar a week salary +with commissions that usually run me up to thirty dollars."</p> + +<p>Harry paused and Jamie remarked: "Plenty for a single man. You might +even have saved a bit on it, I'm thinking."</p> + +<p>Harry hesitated. "No," he said slowly; "I'll tell you the truth. I've +been kind of a fool about money. I haven't saved a cent."</p> + +<p>Rosie sat up suddenly. "I knew it!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Rosie!" whispered Mrs. O'Brien. "Shame on you!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I just did!" Rosie insisted.</p> + +<p>Her father, paying no heed to her, went on with his catechism: "But even +if you didn't save anything, I'm thinking with that salary you're not in +debt."</p> + +<p>"Dad!" murmured Ellen in an agony of embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"Be quiet, Ellen, and let your husband talk."</p> + +<p>The flush on Harry's face deepened. "I'm sorry to say I have a few +debts—not many. I've been paying them off since I've known Ellen."</p> + +<p>"There!" cried Mrs. O'Brien in triumph. "Do you hear that, Jamie!"</p> + +<p>"Since you've known Ellen," Jamie repeated. "How long may that be?"</p> + +<p>"I think it's nearly a month."</p> + +<p>"H'm! Nearly a month.... Well, now, Mr. Long, since you've got a wife +and a few debts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> is it your idea, if I might ask you, to start +housekeeping?"</p> + +<p>"Dad!" Ellen cried; "I don't see why you put it that way! We've got +everything planned out."</p> + +<p>Jamie was imperturbable. "I'd like to hear your plans, Ellen."</p> + +<p>"We're not going housekeeping. I hate housekeeping, anyway. We're going +boarding."</p> + +<p>"Boarding, do you say?" Jamie ruminated a moment. "If you were to ask +me, Mr. Long, I'd tell you that twenty dollars won't go far in +supporting a wife in idleness."</p> + +<p>"Ellen don't want to be idle, Mr. O'Brien. It's her own idea to keep on +with millinery, and of course I can get her into a good shop in St. +Louie."</p> + +<p>It was Mrs. O'Brien's turn to feel dismay. "Do you mean to tell me, +Ellen, that, as a married woman, you're keeping on working?"</p> + +<p>Ellen's answer was decided. "I'd rather do millinery than housekeeping. +Millinery ain't half as hard for me. I told Harry so this afternoon and +he said all right."</p> + +<p>"But, Ellen dear," wailed Mrs. O'Brien, "people'll be thinking that your +husband can't support you!"</p> + +<p>Ellen laughed. "As long as I know different, that won't matter."</p> + +<p>Jamie gave Ellen unexpected support. "Maggie, I think Ellen's right. +It'll be much better to be a good milliner than a poor housekeeper." +Jamie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> paused and looked at the young people thoughtfully. "Well, you're +married now, both of you, and perhaps you're well matched. I dunno. +Ellen's been a headstrong girl, never thinking of any one but herself +and, from your own account, Harry, you're much the same. You've both +jumped into this thing without thinking, but you'll have plenty of time +for thinking from now on. Well, it's high time you both had a bit of +discipline. It'll make a man and a woman of you. I don't altogether like +the way you've started out, but you're started now and there's no more +to say. So here's my hand on it, Harry, and may neither of you regret +this day!"</p> + +<p>Jamie reached across the table and the younger man, in grateful +humility, grasped his hand. "Thank you, Mr. O'Brien," he said simply. +"You've made me see a few things."</p> + +<p>Ellen got up and went around to her father's chair. "I have been +thoughtless and selfish, Dad. I see that now. I hope you'll forgive me." +There were tears in her eyes, and her lips, as she put them against her +father's cheek, trembled a little.</p> + +<p>Harry turned himself to the task of winning his mother-in-law. "Is it +all right, Mrs. O'Brien?"</p> + +<p>All right, indeed! Who could resist so handsome a son-in-law? Certainly +not Mrs. O'Brien. She broke out in tears and laughter.</p> + +<div><a name="they" id="they"></a></div> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;"> +<img src="images/i-008.jpg" width="418" height="600" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">They all looked at Rosie, who sat, oblivious of them, +staring off into nothing.</span> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span>"Ah, Harry, you rogue, come here and kiss me this minute!... Why," she +continued, "do you know, Harry, I had a presintimint the moment you +entered the gate! 'What a fine-looking couple!' says I to meself. And +the next minute I says, 'I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they made a +match of it!' Why, Harry, I've never seen a fella come and turn us all +topsy-turvy as you've done! Here I am talkin' me head off and Jamie +O'Brien's been doing the same! Do you mind, Ellen, the way your da's +been talkin'? You're not sick, are you, Jamie?"</p> + +<p>Jamie chuckled quietly. "It's just I'm a little excited having a +daughter run off and get married."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dad!" Ellen begged.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," Jamie went on, "Rosie'll be at it next."</p> + +<p>They all looked at Rosie, who sat, oblivious of them, staring off into +nothing.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Rosie?" her father asked.</p> + +<p>Rosie roused herself. "I was just thinking about Jarge. Who's going to +tell him?"</p> + +<p>"Ellen, of course," Jamie said. "Ellen'll have to write him."</p> + +<p>"But will she do it?" Rosie persisted.</p> + +<p>A look of annoyance crossed Ellen's face. "Of course I will. I'll have +plenty of time because I'm not going to St. Louie for a week. I'll write +him tomorrow."</p> + +<p>Rosie looked at her sister curiously. She wanted to say: "You know +perfectly well you won't write him tomorrow or the next day or the day +after. You'll put it off from day to day and at last you'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> go, and +then you'll never think of it again and poor Jarge'll come down here on +Thanksgiving expecting to find you, and then we'll have to tell him."</p> + +<p>This is what Rosie wanted to say. But she restrained herself. When she +spoke, it was in a different tone. "All right, Ellen, I won't bother you +again. What dad says is true: you and Harry are married and that's all +there is about it. I hope you'll both be happy." Rosie hesitated a +moment, then walked over to Harry's chair. "And, Harry, I'm sorry I was +rude to you when you tried to kiss me. You see, I didn't know you were +Ellen's husband."</p> + +<p>Rosie hadn't intended to be funny, but evidently she was, for a shout of +laughter went up and Harry gathered her in with a hug and a kiss.</p> + +<p>"You're all right, Rosie!" he whispered. "I like you for the way you +stand up for George!"</p> + +<p><em>For the way she stood up for George!</em>... Tears filled Rosie's eyes. She +had tried faithfully to guard George's interests like the little +watch-dog Ellen had called her. But George would never know. How could +he? All he would know now was that he had been betrayed.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> +<a name="XLI" id="XLI"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XLI</span><br /> +<br /> +THE GREATEST TEACHER IN THE WORLD</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Rosie</span> kept her promise faithfully. During the week that elapsed before +Ellen's departure, she was careful not to mention George Riley's name. +The time for discussion of any subject that might prove unpleasant to +Ellen was past. Ellen was going, never to return—at any rate, never as +one of them in the sense that she had been one of them and, for their +own sakes as well as for hers, it behooved them all to make those last +days as frictionless as possible. The approaching separation did not +bring Rosie any closer to Ellen nor Ellen any closer to her, but it made +them both strangely considerate of one another and also a little shy.</p> + +<p>Like Rosie, Terence and Jack regarded Ellen's going with deep interest +but with very little feeling. Between them and her there had always been +war and there probably always would be if they continued to live under +the same roof. They had their mother's word for it that Ellen was their +own sister and that they ought to love her, but they did not for that +reason love her nor did she love them. Yet they did not question that +pretty fallacy which their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> mother offered them as an axiom, namely, +that love is the inevitable bond between brothers and sisters, since +boys and girls, like men and women, have a way of keeping separate the +truths of experience and the forms of inherited belief. With Rosie they +instinctively called a truce. Ellen will soon be gone, their attitude +said, so let's not fight any more. To show their sincerity, Terry +polished Ellen's shoes and asked if there was anything more he could do, +and Jack ran numberless errands without once asking payment.</p> + +<p>Mrs. O'Brien more than made up for the indifference of the rest of the +family. Her grief at Ellen's departure was very genuine and very loud. +Ellen had always seemed to her mother a paragon of beauty and talent and +now she had made a fine match and was going off to St. Louie, poor girl, +where she'd be far away from her own people in case of illness or +distress. Mrs. O'Brien was so nearly overcome at the actual moment of +farewell that Jamie and Terry had to drag her off to a soda fountain +before the train was fairly started.</p> + +<p>Ellen, too, was affected at the last as Rosie had never seen her +affected. She kissed Rosie, then looked at her a moment sadly. "Say, +kid," she said, "I'm sorry we haven't been better friends. I'm afraid it +was my fault."</p> + +<p>Rosie gulped. "I was as much to blame as you. I see it now."</p> + +<p>Ellen touched Rosie's cheek impulsively. "If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> ever I get a home of my +own in St. Louie, will you come and make me a visit?"</p> + +<p>Rosie's thought was: "If ever you get a home of your own, you'll never +remember me." Her spoken answer, though, was all that it should be: +"Ellen, I'd love to."</p> + +<p>Rosie, you see, knew Ellen's character pretty well. What she did not +know and could not as yet know was this: that the Ellen of tomorrow +might not be quite the Ellen of today; that life probably held +experiences for Ellen that would at last make her look back on home and +family with a new understanding and a feeling of genuine tenderness.</p> + +<p>Ellen's train pulled out and Rosie watched it go with a sigh of relief. +The chapter of Family Chronicles entitled Ellen was finished. That is, +it was finished so far as any new interest was concerned. Yet, like the +hand of a dead man touching the living through the clauses of a last +will, so Ellen, though gone, continued to touch Rosie on a spot already +sensitive beyond endurance.</p> + +<p>Rosie had not spoken of George Riley during Ellen's last week. She had +tried to suppress even the thought of him. Now the time was come when +she had again to think of him, and she was so tired and weary of the +whole problem that she felt unequal to the task of working out its +solution.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Danny," she remarked that afternoon to her old friend, +"I'd give anything to go off somewheres where I don't know anybody and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +where nobody knows me. I'm just so tired of this old town that I don't +know what to do."</p> + +<p>Danny nodded sympathetically. "I'm thinking you're in need of a little +change, Rosie. Maybe you could go out to the country for a day or two at +Thanksgiving."</p> + +<p>Rosie knew perfectly well what Danny meant but, for conversational +reasons, she asked: "Where in the country, Danny?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I was thinking of the Riley farm. I'm sure Mrs. Riley would be +crazy to have you."</p> + +<p>Rosie shook her head. "I can't go out there because Jarge is coming +here." She paused a moment. "He's coming to see Ellen. You know, Danny, +he thinks he's engaged to Ellen."</p> + +<p>"What!" Danny's little eyes blinked rapidly. "Don't he know yet that +she's married to the other fella?"</p> + +<p>"How can he know when no one's told him? Ellen said she would, but of +course she didn't."</p> + +<p>Danny's expression grew serious. "Rosie dear, he ought to be told! He +ought t' have been told at once! You don't mean to say, Rosie, you'll +let him come down on Thanksgiving without a word of warning?"</p> + +<p>Rosie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't see that it's any of my +business."</p> + +<p>Danny looked at her sharply. "Why, Rosie dear, what's come over you?"</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed. "I don't know, Danny. I'm just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> kind o' tired of things." +She made a sudden change of subject. "Wisht I didn't have to go to +school! I hate school this year. I don't see why I have to go, anyway. +I'm not going to be a teacher."</p> + +<p>There was no mistaking Rosie's dejection and Danny, instead of scoffing +it away, accepted it quietly.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to hear you say that about school, Rosie. I was thinkin' +you'd be in High School next year."</p> + +<p>"I would be, if I passed. Ellen went through High School, and now +Terry's in the first year, and of course dad wants me to go, too. But I +don't see why I should. You know, Danny, I'm not very bright in school. +I'm not a bit like Janet. I've got to work awful hard just barely to +pass. I don't think I'd have passed last year if Janet hadn't helped me. +But I can cook and do a lot of things that Janet can't do. I know +perfectly well I could never be a teacher, so I don't see the use of +keeping on at school."</p> + +<p>"You surprise me, Rosie!" Danny peered at her earnestly. "Do you think +that's the only reason for going to school—so's to be a teacher?"</p> + +<p>Rosie nodded. "I don't see any other."</p> + +<p>"And what do you want to be, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be anything."</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to do something?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"But, Rosie dear, that's no way to talk. You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> know you can't sit through +life with folded hands, doing nothing."</p> + +<p>Rosie protested: "But, Danny, I don't expect to do nothing. I know I +have to work and I do work, too. You ask ma. I take care of Geraldine +night and day, and you needn't think it isn't a big job taking care of a +baby, because it is. And I used to take care of Jarge Riley, too. Old +Mis' Riley herself told me I took as good care of him as she did. And +she meant it, too. Oh, I could just work forever for Geraldine and +Jarge."</p> + +<p>Danny looked at her a few moments in silence. "Rosie dear," he said +gently, "pull your chair over close. I want to talk to you."</p> + +<p>Rosie obeyed and, after a slight pause, Danny continued: "You're +troubled about Jarge, aren't you, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie's eyes filled with tears. "I suppose I am, Danny."</p> + +<p>"Rosie," Danny asked slowly, "are you in love with Jarge?"</p> + +<p>The question startled Rosie. She stared blankly through her tears. "Why, +Danny, how can you say a thing like that? I'm only a little girl and +Jarge is a grown man!"</p> + +<p>"But you'd like to take care of him all the time, wouldn't you, Rosie?"</p> + +<p>Rosie nodded. "You bet I would! If I could have just Jarge and +Geraldine, I wouldn't care how hard I'd have to work! I'd do anything +for both of them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> Don't you know, Danny, I just feel like they're +<em>mine</em>!"</p> + +<p>"I thought so, Rosie." Danny sighed and cleared his throat. "Now listen +carefully, Rosie, what I've got to say. As you say yourself you're only +a little girl now, but in a few years you'll be a big girl, as big as +Ellen is today. And then perhaps, Rosie, you'll be marrying some one."</p> + +<p>"No, Danny, no!" Rosie cried. "I don't want to be marrying some one, +honest I don't!"</p> + +<p>Danny waved aside the interruption. "As I was saying, perhaps you'll be +marrying some one, and then after while you'll be having babies of your +own."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Danny!" A look of wonder, almost of ecstasy, spread over Rosie's +face. Instinctively her arms reached out for the precious burden of the +future. "Do you really mean it, Danny?" she whispered. "My <em>own</em>!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Rosie, I mean it. And you'll be a wonderful mother, for you'll +know how to feed your children properly and take proper care of them. +But in one way, Rosie, I fear you'll be a pretty poor mother."</p> + +<p>The light in Rosie's eyes went out. "Why do you say that, Danny?"</p> + +<p>"You won't be able to help them in their schoolin' and they'll probably +all turn out poor ignur'nt b'ys and girls, with no opportunity to rise +in the world. And if they do get on in school, they'll soon be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> scornin' +their poor mother and lookin' down on her because she hasn't had the +education she might have had. And when their father sees how they feel, +I'm afeared he'll begin feelin' the same and thinkin' he'd made an awful +mistake marryin' such an ignur'nt woman."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Danny, stop! Stop!" Tears of self-pity already filled Rosie's eyes.</p> + +<p>"So I say to you, Rosie, if I was a little girl, I'd want to keep on +going to school even if I didn't expect to be a teacher. And for that +matter, darlint, isn't a mother the greatest teacher in the world? +Aren't you yourself Geraldine's teacher every day of your life?"</p> + +<p>Rosie's eyes stretched wide in surprise. "Danny, I believe you're right! +A mother is a teacher, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>"Sure she is, Rosie. And the better her own education is, the better +chance she has of being a good teacher. That stands to reason, don't it +now?"</p> + +<p>Rosie nodded slowly. "Do you know, Danny, I never thought of that +before." She ruminated a moment. "Really and truly it just seems like +every girl in the world ought to have a good education. I always did +think that ignorant mothers were awful and they are, too."</p> + +<p>"You're right, Rosie, they are. They're a hindrance to their children +instead of a help."</p> + +<p>Rosie took a deep breath. "Wouldn't it just be wonderful to have a baby +really and truly your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> own?" She gazed off into space. Then her +expression changed. "But, Danny, I'll never marry."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" Danny started to laugh, then checked himself.</p> + +<p>"You see, Danny, it's this way: Maybe you're right. Maybe I am in love +with Jarge. Anyway, I know I'll never love anybody else half as much as +I love him."</p> + +<p>"If that's the case," Danny remarked casually, "the only thing for you +to do is to marry Jarge."</p> + +<p>"Danny!" Rosie looked at him reproachfully. "I don't think it's kind of +you to make fun of me that way. I know I'm only a kid."</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to marry him this minute," Danny explained. "I expected +you to take your time about it—after you had finished school and were +grown up and all that."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Rosie sat up very straight. She spoke a little breathlessly. "But, +Danny, won't Jarge be too old then?"</p> + +<p>Danny drew a long face. "I had forgotten all about that, Rosie. To be +sure he will. He must be ten or fifteen years older than you this +minute."</p> + +<p>"No, Danny, no! He's not! He's only six years older—about six and a +half. I'm thirteen now. I had a birthday last month. And he's nineteen +and a half. I know because he's four months older than Ellen."</p> + +<p>"Six years, do you say?" Danny mumbled. "Well, now, that's a good many, +Rosie. Let's see:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> when you're eighteen, he'll be twenty-four. H'm. At +twenty-four a lad's getting on, ain't he? Of course a lot of them don't +marry nowadays till thirty but, if they'd ask me advice, I'd tell them +to settle down with the right girl by the time they're twenty-five.... +Yes, Rosie, you're right: Jarge'd be pretty old. Six years is a pretty +big difference."</p> + +<p>Rosie tossed her head. "I'm not so sure about that! Let's see now: Harry +Long is twenty-six and that makes him seven years older than Ellen, and +I'm sure Harry and Ellen look fine together! No one would ever think of +calling Harry old! Why, he don't look a bit old!"</p> + +<p>Danny shrugged his shoulders. "Well, Rosie, have it your own way!"</p> + +<p>"Danny Agin, how you talk! Have it my own way, indeed! It isn't my way, +it's just facts!"</p> + +<p>Danny looked bored. "Well, anyway, it's all in the future, so why are we +arguin' now? You'll be falling in love and probably falling out again +with half a dozen lads before you're eighteen, and by the time you're +twenty you'll probably be happily married to some one you've never yet +laid eyes on. That's how it goes. And in that case, you'll have long +since forgotten all about poor old Jarge Riley."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" Rosie spoke rather coldly, not to say sarcastically. +However, she did not dispute Danny's word. If that was his opinion, he +was, of course, welcome to it. By the same token, Rosie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> claimed a like +privilege for herself. The way she pressed her lips together told very +plainly that her opinion differed somewhat from Danny's.</p> + +<p>Presently Danny opened on another subject. "Now about Jarge Riley: If +you ask me advice, Rosie, I think you had better write him a letter. It +would be a bad thing to have him come down here not knowin' about +Ellen."</p> + +<p>Rosie's face changed. "But, Danny, it would be an awful hard letter to +write and, besides, it isn't my business."</p> + +<p>"That's so," Danny agreed. "Perhaps now you'd better not meddle. When I +suggested it, it was only because I was thinkin' that you and Jarge were +such good friends that you'd be wantin' to spare him a little. But, +after all, he's a man, so he might as well come down and find things out +for himself. It'll be an awful shock, but no matter. Besides, maybe +Ellen'll write him. In fact, I'm sure she will."</p> + +<p>"Ellen!" Rosie snorted scornfully. "Ellen never yet has done anything +she hasn't wanted to do and I don't see her beginning now!"</p> + +<p>"We've all got to begin some time," Danny remarked.</p> + +<p>Rosie pointed her finger impressively. "Danny Agin, I know Ellen O'Brien +Long better than you do and, when I say she'll never write a line to +Jarge, I guess I know what I'm talking about."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you do," Danny murmured meekly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span> "If you say she won't, she +won't. I wouldn't question your word for a hundred dollars. If you tell +me that Jarge is not to get a letter, then it's settled. He won't get a +letter." Danny sighed. "Poor Jarge! I do feel sorry for him! It'll be an +awful shock to him!" Danny sighed again. "But, of course, every one has +to take a few shocks in this life. Ah, me!"</p> + +<p>Rosie sighed, too. "If I was to write him, Danny, what would I say?"</p> + +<p>Danny wagged his head. "It'd be a pretty hard letter and, as you say +yourself, why should you?"</p> + +<p>"I know it would be hard," Rosie agreed, "but, if I wanted to write it, +I guess it wouldn't be too hard for me. Only I'm not quite sure what to +say."</p> + +<p>Danny squinted his little eyes thoughtfully. "Well, Rosie, if I was +writing such a letter, to begin with I'd tell me bad news as quickly as +I could and have it over with. Then, if it was some one I was real fond +of, I'd tell him what I thought of him. It don't hurt any one to be told +he has a friend or two. Then I'd fill in with all the family news and +talk I could, so's he wouldn't feel lonely. At first he wouldn't have +eyes for anything but the bad news, but, after while, he'd begin to take +comfort from the rest of the letter and, if it was written with lots of +love and feelin', I'm thinkin' there'd come a time when he'd be readin' +that part over and over and over again, I dunno how many times, and +takin' a little more comfort from it each time."</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span>Rosie stood up a little breathlessly. "Good-bye, Danny. I must hurry +home. I've got something to do."</p> + +<p>"Don't be runnin' off," Danny begged. "Besides, I'm not done yet with +the letter. As I was sayin', I wouldn't try to finish it in one sitting. +I'd write at it as much as I could every day and in a week's time it'd +be a good big letter."</p> + +<p>"But, Danny, Thanksgiving's not more than three weeks off!"</p> + +<p>"Three weeks, do you say? That's bad. The poor lad ought to be given two +weeks' notice at least. So if any one was to write him, they'd better +begin at once. They'd have to write every day for a week pretty +steadily."</p> + +<p>"Is that all, Danny?"</p> + +<p>"It's all I think of just now. If you was to sit awhile longer, Rosie, +maybe something more would come to me."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe I better, Danny. I'm awful busy. I must get home."</p> + +<p>"But you'll stop awhile tomorrow, darlint, won't you? Promise me you +will."</p> + +<p>Rosie thought a moment. "It's this way, Danny: I'm a little behind in +school and I've got to catch up. And, besides that, I'll be very busy +for a week on something else. I don't believe I'll have time to stop +tomorrow but, if I have, I will. Good-bye."</p> + +<p>Rosie started off, then turned back a little shyly. She put her arm +about old Danny's neck and kissed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> him on the cheek. "Danny, you're +awful good to me. And do you know, Danny, after Jarge and Geraldine and +Janet I think I love you best of all!"</p> + +<p>Danny chuckled. "Well, I suppose fourth ch'ice is better than no ch'ice +at all!"</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> +<a name="XLII" id="XLII"></a><span class="sub2">CHAPTER XLII</span><br /> +<br /> +THE ROSIE MORROW</h2> + + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">For</span> a whole week Rosie worked away at her letter. She followed Danny's +advice and added new pages each day. As a result her manuscript grew in +bulk with startling rapidity. She had to buy a big envelope for it and +then spend a large part of a week's wages on postage stamps.</p> + +<p>Here is what she wrote:</p> + +<hr class="white" /> + +<p class="noi"><span class="smcap">Dear George</span>,</p> + +<p>How are you and how is your mother and how is your father? Tell your +mother that Geraldine is growing so fast that she would hardly know her.</p> + +<p>George, I've got some bad news for you. Only it isn't as bad as it +sounds, for I know it will be all right in the end. George, Ellen's got +married. He's a feather salesman. He wears sporty clothes. He's +twenty-six years old. That makes him seven years older than Ellen. He's +a good-looker. Him and Ellen are just the same kind. They both like to +dress and to gad around.</p> + +<p>George, I know you're going to feel awful bad about this at first, but +listen, George, it would have been an awful thing to plant Ellen out on +a farm.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> She would have hated it. She would have been unhappy and that +would have made you unhappy. And I don't think Ellen and your mother +would have liked each other either and they would have to live together +and then where would you be? George, don't you see, you're a farmer and +you ought to pick out the kind of girl that likes farm life and that +knows how to work. George, Ellen just loves the city where she can go to +the theatre and dances and things and she never would like the country. +Don't you see, George? I don't mean that Ellen was right to get married +without telling you. She ought to have told you. I know that. But, +George, I think she was a little bit scared of you. Really and truly, +George, I don't think she would ever have got engaged to you if that +Hawes man hadn't insulted her. Then afterwards, George, she didn't know +how to get away from you. But she wanted to, honest she did.</p> + +<p>George, I'm awful sorry to be the one to tell you this. But I thought I +better because it wouldn't be fair to have you come down on Thanksgiving +without knowing. And I thought it would be better for you to hear it +from me than from any one else. You and me, George, are awful good +friends and I love you like I love Geraldine and I'd give anything not +to have to tell you something that will hurt you and make you feel bad. +Honest, George, I'm awful sorry.</p> + +<p>George, all your friends always ask for you. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> other day Danny Agin +asked about you. Danny's pretty well but he ain't very strong these days +and me and Mrs. Agin are a little bit worried. I don't know what I'd do +without Danny. Sometimes he thinks he's funny and then me and Mrs. Agin +have to scold him, but I just love him and so does Mrs. Agin even when +she pretends she don't. You know, George, you can't help it because +really and truly he's always so kind and gentle. And he gives awful good +advice when you're worried about something. I always stand up for Danny. +I told him once that he is my fourth best friend. I put you first, +George, and then Geraldine, and then Janet.</p> + +<p>And, George, do you know about Janet? Dave McFadden has never once fell +off the water wagon! What do you know about that? Mrs. McFadden got home +from the hospital just after you left. She's real weak and she'll +probably never be able to work again. She just sits around and complains +and what do you think? Dave waits on her like she was a baby and don't +say a word. Miss Harris from the Settlement House explained about it to +Janet and me. She said that time that Dave was laid up with a broken leg +and Mrs. McFadden began working out and Dave saw how easy it was for him +to get along without supporting Mrs. McFadden and Janet that he lost the +sense of family responsibility. And Miss Harris says it just took a +thing like this to wake him up. And Miss Harris says it was Mrs. +McFadden's big mistake to take Dave's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> place ever because lots of men +are just that way when they see their wives and mothers can earn money +by working out they just let them and Miss Harris says a woman has +enough to do at home and taking care of her children. I'm sure my mother +has, don't you think so, George?</p> + +<p>The McFaddens are real comfortable now because all Dave's money comes +home. They're going to move out of that horrible tenement next week. +They've rented a little four-room house in the next block to us. Janet +ain't very good friends with her father. She hardly ever talks to him +and he hardly ever talks to her. She says how can she when she looks at +her mother. But she says now she'll keep on at school. She thought she'd +have to go to work. You know Janet's just crazy about school. She wants +to go through High School and be a teacher. I want to go through High +School, too, but I don't want to be a teacher. I think a girl ought to +go through High School, don't you, George? because if she ever has any +children of her own she wouldn't want them to grow up and think their +mother was an ignorant old thing. And, besides, if she hasn't got a good +education herself, how can she teach her children? And really and truly, +George, you know a good mother has to be a teacher. Did you ever think +of that before?</p> + +<p>George, I don't suppose I'll ever marry. But if I was to marry, do you +know the kind of man I'd pick out? I'd take a farmer every time! I just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span> +love the country, George, and I just love the kind of work a farmer's +wife has to do. You ask your mother if I don't. There wasn't a thing +that Mrs. Riley did last summer that she didn't teach me, and she told +me herself I was awful quick about learning.</p> + +<p>My, my, George, did you ever think how fast time flies? Here I'm +thirteen now and it won't be hardly any time before I'm eighteen. When +I'm eighteen I'll be grown up and getting ready to graduate from High +School. Will you promise me to come down and see the graduation? I'd +rather have you come than any one else in the world. Let's see how old +you'll be then? You'll be twenty-four. That's not so awful old. Maybe +you won't even be married. Lots of men nowadays don't get married until +they're thirty. But I think you ought to get married by the time you're +twenty-five. And you ought to get a wife that would love your mother and +would be willing to take some of the work off her shoulders. That's why +I say to you that you ought to pick out a girl that loves the country +and isn't afraid of work. And you ought to take a girl that's gone +through High School, too, because it's a mistake for a man to marry an +ignorant woman that he'd be ashamed of.</p> + +<p>George, I can't tell you how much I miss you. I miss you every day. We +always had such good times together, didn't we? Do you remember all the +times you took me to the movies and for street-car rides and things like +that? I remember every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> one of them. And whenever I was bothered about +anything you were always so kind to me. Other people are kind to me, +too. Danny Agin is. I love Danny Agin, too, but I love you first.</p> + +<p>George, I don't think I could get on without you if I didn't have +Geraldine. Seems like I just got to have some one to love. When I get +real lonely for you, I take Geraldine and give her a good scrubbing and +then dress her up and take her out for a walk.</p> + +<p>George, I don't know when I'll see you again, but listen here, George, I +want you to remember one thing. It won't make any difference how long it +is because I'll love you just the same.</p> + +<p>And, George, I love your mother, too, and she told me that she loved me. +Will you tell her that I hope she's well and that I'll never forget how +kind she was to me and Geraldine last summer. And I hope your father's +well, too.</p> + +<p>Terry says to say Hello to you. And he says, how's farming? Jackie's +getting awful big and he's real smart in school. He always gets a +hundred in problems.</p> + +<p>Ma and dad are well and I told you all about Janet. So that's all now.</p> + +<p class="flush1">With love,</p> +<p class="flush2">Yours truly,</p> +<p class="flush3"><span class="smcap">Rosie O'Brien</span>.</p> + + + + + +<hr /> + +<h2>"<em>THE CHEERIEST, HAPPIEST BOOKS</em>"<br /> +By JULIE M. LIPPMANN</h2> + + +<h3>Martha By-the-Day</h3> + +<p>Thirteenth printing. $1.00 net.</p> + +<p>The story of a big, kindly Irish char-woman, a marvel of physical +strength and shrewd humor, who takes under her wing a well-born but +friendless girl whom she finds alone and helpless in New York.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"No sweeter humor has been written into a book."—<em>Hartford Courant.</em></p> + +<p>"Cheeriest, most warm-hearted and humorous character since Mrs. +Wiggs."—<em>Living Age.</em></p> + +<p>"Half an hour with 'Martha' puts one on better terms with the +world."—<em>Washington</em> (D. C.) <em>Star.</em></p> +</div> + + +<h3>Making Over Martha</h3> + +<p>Fifth printing. $1.20 net.</p> + +<p>This story follows "Martha" and her family to the country, where she +again finds a love affair on her hands.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Fresh, wholesome, entertaining."—<em>Churchman.</em></p> + +<p>"'Martha' is not of the stuff to die."—<em>Bellman.</em></p> + +<p>"'Martha' brings hard sense and good humor."—<em>New York Sun.</em></p> +</div> + + +<h3>Martha and Cupid</h3> + +<p>Tells how "Martha" came to choose "Sam Slosson" for her husband, how she +spent the fund for her wedding outfit, how she solved the +"mother-in-law" and other "problems" in her family life. Just ready. +$1.00 net.</p> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2><em>By CONINGSBY DAWSON</em></h2> + +<h3>The Garden Without Walls</h3> + +<p>The story of the adventures in love of the hero till his thirtieth year +is as fascinating as are the three heroines. His Puritan stock is in +constant conflict with his Pagan imagination. Ninth printing. $1.35 net.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Never did hero find himself the adored of three more enchanting +heroines. A book which will deserve the popularity it is certain to +achieve."—<em>The Independent.</em></p> + + +<p>"Mr. Dawson has dared splendidly to write, in a glorious abandon, a +story all interwoven with a glow of romance almost medieval in its pagan +color, yet wholly modern in its import."—<em>Samuel Abbott, in The Boston +Herald.</em></p> + +<p>"All vivid with the color of life; a novel to compel not only absorbed +attention, but long remembrance."—<em>The Boston Transcript.</em></p> + +<p>"The most enjoyable first novel since De Morgan's 'Joseph Vance.'"—<em>J. +B. Kerfoot</em>, in <em>Life</em>.</p> +</div> + + +<h3>The Raft</h3> + +<p>A story of high gallantry, which teaches that even modern life is an +affair of courageous chivalry. The story is crowded with over thirty +significant characters, some whimsical, some tender, some fanciful; all +are poignantly real with their contrasting ideals and purposes.</p> + +<p>"The Raft" is a panorama of everyday, available romance. Just ready. +$1.35 net.</p> + + +<h3>Florence on a Certain Night (and Other Poems)</h3> + +<p>12mo. $1.25 net.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"The work of a true lyric poet who 'utters his own soul.'"—<em>Literary +Digest.</em></p> + +<p>"The preeminent quality in all Mr. Dawson's verse is the union of +delicacy and strength. A generation which has all but forgotten the +meaning of the phrase 'to keep himself unspotted from the world' has +great need of this sort of poetry."—<em>Providence Journal.</em></p> +</div> + + + +<hr /> + +<h2>BY INEZ HAYNES GILLMORE</h2> + + +<h3>ANGEL ISLAND</h3> + +<p>With 2 illustrations by <span class="smcap">John Rae</span>. $1.35 net.</p> + +<p>This strange, picturesque romance, with its deep underlying +significance, won praise from such high authorities as <em>The Bookman</em>, +<em>The Evening Post</em>, <em>The Times Review</em>, <em>The Chicago Record-Herald</em>, and +<em>The Boston Transcript</em>, the last of which says: "Fine types of men ... +the five women are magnificent creatures.... Always the story carries +itself, but always it is pregnant with the larger suggestion, which +gives it its place in feminist literature."</p> + + +<h3>PHOEBE AND ERNEST</h3> + +<p>With 30 illustrations by <span class="smcap">R. F. 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Schabelitz</span>. $1.35 net.</p> + +<p>In this sequel to the popular "Phoebe and Ernest," each of these +delightful young folk goes to the altar.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"To all jaded readers of problem novels, to all weary wayfarers on the +rocky literary road of social pessimism and domestic woe, we recommend +'Phoebe, Ernest, and Cupid' with all our hearts: it is not only +cheerful, it's true."—<em>N. Y. Times Review.</em></p> + +<p>"Wholesome, merry, absolutely true to life."—<em>The Outlook.</em></p> +</div> + + +<h3>JANEY</h3> + +<p>Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Ada C. Williamson</span>. $1.25 net.</p> + +<p>"Being the record of a short interval in the journey thru life and the +struggle with society of a little girl of nine."</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Depicts youthful human nature as one who knows and loves it. Her +'Phoebe and Ernest' studies are deservedly popular, and now, in 'Janey,' +this clever writer has accomplished an equally charming +portrait."—<em>Chicago Record-Herald.</em></p> +</div> + + + +<hr /> + +<h3>WILLIAM DE MORGAN'S NOVELS</h3> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Why All This Popularity?</span>" asks <span class="smcap">E. V. Lucas</span>, writing in the <em>Outlook</em> of +De Morgan's Novels. He answers: De Morgan is "almost the perfect example +of the humorist; certainly the completest since Lamb.... Humor, however, +is not all.... In the De Morgan world it is hard to find an unattractive +figure.... The charm of the young women, all brave and humorous and gay, +and all trailing clouds of glory from the fairyland from which they have +just come."</p> + + +<h3>JOSEPH VANCE</h3> + +<p>The story of a great sacrifice and a life-long love.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"The book of the last decade; the best thing in fiction since Mr. +Meredith and Mr. Hardy; must take its place as the first great English +novel that has appeared in the twentieth century."—<span class="smcap">Lewis Melville</span> in +<em>New York Times Saturday Review</em>.</p> +</div> + + +<h3>ALICE-FOR-SHORT</h3> + +<p>The romance of an unsuccessful man, in which the long buried past +reappears in London of to-day.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"If any writer of the present era is read a half century hence, a +quarter century, or even a decade, that writer is William De +Morgan."—<em>Boston Transcript.</em></p> +</div> + + +<h3>SOMEHOW GOOD</h3> + +<p>How two brave women won their way to happiness.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"A book as sound, as sweet, as wholesome, as wise, as any in the range +of fiction."—<em>The Nation.</em></p> +</div> + + +<h3>IT NEVER CAN HAPPEN AGAIN</h3> + +<p>A story of the great love of Blind Jim and his little daughter, and of +the affairs of a successful novelist.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"De Morgan at his very best, and how much better his best is than the +work of any novelist of the past thirty years."—<em>The Independent.</em></p> +</div> + + +<h3>AN AFFAIR OF DISHONOR</h3> + +<p>A very dramatic novel of Restoration days.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"A marvelous example of Mr. De Morgan's inexhaustible fecundity of +invention.... Shines as a romance quite as much as 'Joseph Vance' does +among realistic novels."—<em>Chicago Record-Herald.</em></p> +</div> + + +<h3>A LIKELY STORY</h3> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Begins comfortably enough with a little domestic quarrel in a +studio.... The story shifts suddenly, however, to a brilliantly told +tragedy of the Italian Renaissance embodied in a girl's portrait.... The +many readers who like Mr. De Morgan will enjoy this charming fancy +greatly."—<em>New York Sun.</em></p> +</div> + +<p><em>A Likely Story, $1.35 net; the others, $1.75 each.</em></p> + + +<h3>WHEN GHOST MEETS GHOST</h3> + +<p>The most "De Morganish" of all his stories. The scene is England in the +fifties. <em>862 pages. $1.60 net.</em></p> + +<hr class="hr3" /> + +<p class="center"><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub> A thirty-two page illustrated leaflet about Mr. De Morgan, +with complete reviews of his first four books, sent on request.</p> + +<h3><span class="ls">HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY</span><br /> +<small><span class="ws">PUBLISHERS NEW</span> YORK</small></h3> + + +<hr /> + +<div class="tn"> +<p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> + +<p class="noi">Spelling and hyphenation have been retained as they appear in the +original publication.</p> + +<p class="noi">Page 175 Inserted "of"—on one side <a href="#of">of</a> the gate</p> + +<p class="noi">Page 190 Added closing quotation mark after <a href="#quote">Good for Jarge!"</a></p> + +<p class="noi">Page 227 Inserted "to"—had happened <a href="#Janet">to</a> Janet</p> + +<p class="noi">In the advertisements, Louisa Olcott changed to <a href="#Alcott">Alcott</a></p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rosie World, by Parker Fillmore + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROSIE WORLD *** + +***** This file should be named 31718-h.htm or 31718-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/1/31718/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Rosie World + +Author: Parker Fillmore + +Illustrator: Maginel Wright Enright + +Release Date: March 21, 2010 [EBook #31718] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROSIE WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to +fight, it scares me so!" [Page 12.]] + + + + +THE ROSIE WORLD + + BY + PARKER FILLMORE + + Author of "The Hickory Limb," "The Young Idea" + + + With Illustrations by + MAGINEL WRIGHT ENRIGHT + + NEW YORK + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + 1914 + + + + + Copyright, 1914. + BY + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + + _Published September, 1914_ + + Parts of _The Rosie World_ have appeared serially in _Everybody's + Magazine_ under the titles: "The Chin-Chopper," "A Little Savings + Account," copyright, 1912, by The Ridgway Company; "A Little Mother + Hen," "The Loan of a Gentleman Friend," "Crazy with the Heat," + copyright, 1913, by The Ridgway Company; "The Stenog," "The Watch-Dog," + "The Rosie Morrow," copyright, 1914, by The Ridgway Company; and in + _Smith's Magazine_ under the title: "What Every Lady Wants," copyright, + 1913, by Street & Smith. + + + + + To + Gilman Hall + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I THE CHIN-CHOPPER 1 + + II THE SCHNITZER 7 + + III THE PAPER-GIRL 18 + + IV A LITTLE SAVINGS ACCOUNT 25 + + V GEORGE RILEY ON MUCKERS 40 + + VI JACKIE 47 + + VII HOW TO KEEP A DUCK OUT OF WATER 59 + + VIII A LITTLE MOTHER HEN 67 + + IX JANET'S AUNT KITTY 78 + + X ROSIE RECEIVES AN INVITATION 87 + + XI THE TRACTION BOYS' PICNIC 93 + + XII THE LOAN OF A GENTLEMAN FRIEND 99 + + XIII JANET EXPLAINS 107 + + XIV ON SCARS AND BRUISES 113 + + XV THE BRUTE AT BAY 123 + + XVI WHAT EVERY LADY WANTS 130 + + XVII ROSIE PROMISES TO BE GOOD 143 + + XVIII ON THE CULTURE OF BABIES 147 + + XIX CRAZY WITH THE HEAT 157 + + XX A FEVERED WORLD 165 + + XXI THE STORM 168 + + XXII A CHANCE FOR GERALDINE 171 + + XXIII HOME AGAIN 175 + + XXIV GEORGE TURNS 182 + + XXV DANNY AGIN ON LOVE 194 + + XXVI ELLEN 204 + + XXVII ROSIE URGES COMMON SENSE 213 + + XXVIII JANET USES STRONG LANGUAGE 224 + + XXIX THE CASE OF DAVE MCFADDEN 234 + + XXX JANET TO HER OWN FATHER 242 + + XXXI DANNY'S SUGGESTION 254 + + XXXII THE SUBSTITUTE LADY 264 + + XXXIII ELLEN'S CAREER 273 + + XXXIV THE KIND-HEARTED GENTLEMAN 285 + + XXXV ELLEN MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT 292 + + XXXVI THE HAPPY LOVER 298 + + XXXVII THE SISTERS 304 + + XXXVIII ELLEN HAS HER FLING 308 + + XXXIX THE WATCH-DOG 317 + + XL MR. HARRY LONG EXPLAINS 322 + + XLI THE GREATEST TEACHER IN THE WORLD 335 + + XLII THE ROSIE MORROW 349 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + "I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to fight, + it scares me so!" _Frontispiece_ + + PAGE + + "Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie" 48 + + Rosie gently lifted off his nightshirt and held the candle + close 60 + + "Because you kiss Janet McFadden, you needn't think + you can kiss any girl" 106 + + Rosie stared at him out of eyes that were very sad and + very serious 148 + + She read it again by the light of the candle 290 + + To be the confidant of Mrs. O'Brien in this particular + disappointment was embarrassing, to say the least 298 + + They all looked at Rosie, who sat, oblivious of them, + staring off into nothing 332 + + + + +THE ROSIE WORLD + +CHAPTER I + +THE CHIN-CHOPPER + + +Mrs. O'Brien raised helpless distracted hands. "Off wid yez to school!" +she shouted. "All of yez! Make room for George!" What Mrs. O'Brien +really called her boarder is best represented by spelling his name +Jarge. + +"Maybe I didn't have a dandy fight on my last trip down," George +announced as he took off his coat and began washing his hands at the +sink. + +The young O'Briens clustered about him eagerly. + +"Did you lick him, Jarge?" Terry asked. + +"Tell us about it!" Rosie begged. + +"Will yez be off to school!" Mrs. O'Brien again shouted. + +No one heeded her in the least. George by this time was seated at the +table and Rosie was hanging over his shoulder. Terence and small Jack +stood facing him at the other side of the table and Miss Ellen O'Brien, +with the baby in her arms, lingered near the door. + +"Your cabbage'll be stone cold," Mrs. O'Brien scolded, "and they'll all +be late for school if they don't be off wid 'em!" + +"Was he drunk, Jarge?" Rosie asked. + +"No, but he'd been taking too much." George spoke through a mouthful of +corned beef and cabbage. + +"Aw, go on," Terry pleaded, "tell us all about it." + +"They ain't much to tell," George declared, with a complacency that +belied his words. "He was nuthin' but a big stiff about nine feet high +and built double across the shoulders." George sighed and cocked his eye +as though bored at the necessity of recounting his adventure. Then, just +to humour them, as it were, he continued: "I see trouble as soon as he +got on. They was plenty of empty seats on one side, but the first thing +I knew he was hanging on a strap on the crowded side insultin' a poor +little lady. He wasn't sayin' nuthin' but he was just hangin' over her +face, lookin' at her and grinnin' until she was ready to cry out for +shame." + +"The brute!" snapped Mrs. O'Brien as she slopped down a big cup of +coffee. + +"Did you throw him off?" Terence asked. + +George took an exasperating time to swallow, then complained: "You +mustn't hurry me so. 'Tain't healthy to hurry when you eat." + +Ellen O'Brien tossed her head disdainfully. "If that's all you've got to +say, Mr. Riley, I guess I'll be going." + +Rosie turned on her big sister scornfully. "Aw, why don't you call him +Jarge? Ain't he been boarding with us a whole week now?" To show the +degree of intimacy she herself felt, Rosie slipped an arm about George's +neck. + +Ellen sniffed audibly. + +George had not been looking at the elder Miss O'Brien but, from the +haste with which now he finished his story, it was evident that he +wished her to hear it. + +"When I see he was looking for trouble, I went right up to him and says: +'If you can't sit down and act ladylike, just get off this car.' And +then he looks down at me and grins like a jackass and says: 'Who do you +think you are?' 'Who do I think I am?' I says; 'I'm the conductor of +this car and my number's eight-twenty and, if I get any more jawin' from +you, I'll throw you off.' He'd make two of me in size but I could see +from the look of him he was nuthin' to be afraid of. So, when he grins +down at the little lady again and then drops his strap to turn clean +around to me and poke out his jaw, I up and gives him a good +chin-chopper." + +George stopped as if this were the end and his auditors grumbled in +balked expectancy: + +"Aw, go on, Jarge, tell us what you did." + +"Well, if that's the end of your story, Mr. Riley, I'm going." + +"The brute, insultin' a lady!" + +It was Rosie who demanded in desperation: "But, Jarge, what is a +chin-chopper?" + +"Chin-chopper? Why, don't you know what a chin-chopper is?" George +paused in his eating to explain. "A chin-chopper is when a big stiff +pokes out his jaw at you and then, before he knows what you're doing, +you up and push him one under the chin with the inside of your hand. It +tips him over just like a ninepin." + +"Oh, Jarge, do you mean you knocked him down on the floor of the car?" +By this time Rosie was skipping and hopping in excitement. + +"Sure that's what I mean." + +"And then, Jarge, when you had him down, what did you do?" + +"What did I do? Why, then I danced on him, of course." + +George jumped up from his chair and, indicating a prostrate form on the +kitchen floor, proceeded to execute a series of wild jig steps over +limbs and chest. + +Rosie clapped her hands. "Good, good, good, Jarge! And then what did you +do?" + +"What did I do? Why, then I snatches off the stiff's hat and throws it +out the window. As luck went, it landed in a fine big mud-puddle. Then I +pulls the bell and says to him, 'Now, you big bully, if you've had +enough, get off this car and go home and tell your wife she wants you.'" + +"And, Jarge, did he get off?" + +"Did he? I wonder! He couldn't get off quick enough!" + +George glanced timidly toward Ellen in hopes, apparently, that his +prowess would meet the same favour from her as from the others. + +Ellen caught his look and instantly tightened her lips in disgust. "I +think it's perfectly disgraceful to get in fights!" + +Under the scorn of her words George withered into silence. Terence +rallied instantly to his defence. He turned on his older sister angrily. +"Aw, go dry up, you old school-teacher!" + +"I'm not an old school-teacher!" Ellen cried. "And you just stop calling +me names! Ma, Terence is calling me an old school-teacher and you don't +say a thing!" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her son reprovingly. "Why, Terry lad, I'm +surprised at you callin' your poor sister Ellen a thing like that! You +know as well as I that she's not an old school-teacher." + +"Well, anyway," Terence growled, "she talks like one." + +Rosie's wild spirits, meantime, had vanished. She sighed heavily. "Say, +Jarge, wisht I was a boy." + +George looked at her kindly. "What makes you say that, Rosie?" + +"Oh, nuthin'. Only I know some stiffs I'd like to try a chin-chopper +on." + +George eyed her a little uneasily. "Aw, now, Rosie, you oughtn't to +talk that way. You're a girl and 'tain't ladylike for girls to fight." + +"I know, Jarge. That's why I say I wisht I was a boy." + +George grew thoughtful. "Of course, though, Rosie, I wouldn't have +blamed the little lady in the car if she had poked her hatpin into that +fellow. It's all right for a lady to do anything in self-defence." + +In Rosie's face a sudden interest gathered. "Ain't it unladylike, Jarge, +if it's in self-defence?" + +George answered emphatically: "Of course not--not if it's in +self-defence." + +He would have said more but Terence interrupted: "What's the matter, +Rosie? Any one been teasing you?" + +Rosie answered quickly, almost too quickly: "Oh, no, no! I was just +a-talkin' to Jarge----" + +"Well, just stop yir talkin' and be off wid yez to school! Do ye hear me +now, all o' yez!" Mrs. O'Brien opened the kitchen door and, raising her +apron aloft, drove them out with a "Shoo!" as though they were so many +chickens. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE SCHNITZER + + +"Tell me now, Rosie, are you having any trouble with your papers?" +Terence asked this as he and Rosie and little Jack started off for +school. + +Terence had a regular newspaper business which kept him busy every day +from the close of school until dark. His route had grown so large that +recently he had been forced to engage the services of one or two +subordinates. Rosie had begged to be given a job as paper-carrier, to +deliver the papers in their own immediate neighbourhood, and Terence was +at last allowing her a week's trial. If she could be a newsgirl without +attracting undue attention, he would be as willing to pay her twenty +cents a week as to pay any ordinary small boy a quarter. + +Twenty cents seemed a princely wage to one handicapped by the limitation +of sex, and Rosie was determined to make good. So, when Terence inquired +whether she were having any trouble, she declared at once: + +"No, Terry, honest I'm not. Every one's just as nice and kind to me as +they can be. Those two nice Miss Grey ladies always give me a cookie, +and nice old Danny Agin nearly always has an apple for me." + +"Well," said Terence, severely--besides being Rosie's brother, fourteen +years old and nearly two years her senior, he was her employer and so +simply had to be severe--"Well, just see that you don't eat too many +apples!" + +Terence and Jack turned into the boys' school-yard and Rosie pursued her +way down to the girls' gate. Just before she reached it, a boy, biggish +and overgrown, with a large flat face and loosely hung joints, ran up +behind her and shouted: + +"Oh, look at the paper-girl, paper-girl, paper-girl! Rosie O'Brien, +O'Brien, O'Brien!" + +He seemed to think there was something funny in the name O'Brien, and +his own name, mind you, was Schnitzer! + +Rosie marched on with unhearing ears, unseeing eyes. Other people, +however, heard, for in a moment, one of the little girls clustered about +the school-yard gate rushed over to her, jerking her head about like an +indignant little hen. + +"Don't you care what that old Schnitzer says, Rosie! Just treat him like +he's beneath your contemp'!" + +Whereupon she herself turned upon the Schnitzer and, with most withering +sarcasm, called out: "Dutch!" + +Rosie's friend's name was McFadden, Janet McFadden. + +"Why don't you just tell Terry on him?" Janet said, when they were safe +within the crowded school-yard and able to discuss at length the +cowardice of the attack. "It wouldn't take Terry two minutes to punch +his face into pie-crust!" + +"I know, Janet, but don't you see if I was to tell Terry, then he'd +think I was getting bothered on my paper route and take it away from me. +He's not quite sure, anyhow, whether girls ought to carry papers." + +Janet clucked her tongue in sympathy and understanding. "Does that +Schnitzer bother you every afternoon, Rosie?" + +"Yes, and he's getting worse. Yesterday he tried to grab my papers and +he tore one of them. I'm just scared to death when I get near his house, +honest, I am." + +Janet clenched her hands and drew a long shivering breath. "Do you know, +Rosie, boys like him--they just make me so mad that I almost--I almost +_bust_!" + +Black care sat behind Rosie O'Brien's desk that afternoon. It was her +fifth day as paper-carrier and, but for Otto Schnitzer, she knew that +she would be able to complete satisfactorily her week of probation. Was +he to cause her failure? Her heart was heavy with fear but, after +school, when she met Terry, she smiled as she took her papers and +marched off with so brave a show of confidence that Terry, she felt +sure, suspected nothing. + +As usual, she had no trouble whatever on the first part of her route. At +sight of her papers a few people smiled but they all greeted her +pleasantly enough, so that was all right. One boy called out, "How's +business, old gal?" but his tone was so jolly that Rosie was able to +sing back, "Fine and dandy, old hoss!" So that was all right, too. + +The Schnitzer place was toward the end of her route, a few doors before +she reached Danny Agin's cottage. As she passed it, no Otto was in +sight, and she wondered if for once she was to be allowed to go her way +unmolested. A sudden yell from the Schnitzers' garden disclosed Otto's +whereabouts and also his disappointment not to be on the sidewalk to +meet her. He came pounding out in all haste but she was able to make +Danny Agin's gate in safety. + +Rosie always delivered Danny's paper in the kitchen. + +"Come in!" said Danny's voice in answer to her knock. + +Rosie opened the door and Danny received her with a friendly, "Ah now, +and is it yourself, Rosie? I've been waiting for you this half-hour." + +He was a little apple-cheeked old man who wheezed with asthma and was +half-crippled with rheumatism. "Mary!" he called to some one in another +room. "It's Rosie O'Brien. Have you something for Rosie?" + +A voice, as serious in tone as Danny's was gay, came back in answer: +"Tell Rosie to look on the second shelf of the panthry." + +Rosie went to the pantry--it was a little game they had been playing +every afternoon--and on the second shelf found a shiny red apple. + +"Thanks, Danny. I do love apples." + +Danny shook his head lugubriously. "I'm afeared there won't be many +more, Rosie. We're gettin' to the bottom of the barrel and summer's +comin'. But can't you sit down for a minute and talk to a body?" + +Rosie sat down. As she had only two more papers to deliver, she had +plenty of time. But she had nothing to say. + +Danny, watching her, drew a long face. "What's the matter, Rosie dear? +Somebody dead?" + +Rosie shook her head and sighed. "That old Otto Schnitzer's waiting for +me outside." + +Danny exploded angrily. "The Schnitzer, indeed! I'd like to give that +lad a crack wid me stick!" + +"Danny," Rosie said solemnly, "do you know what I'd do if I was a boy?" + +"What?" + +"I'd try a chin-chopper on Otto Schnitzer. That'd fix him!" + +"It would that!" said Danny, heartily. He paused and meditated. "But +what's a chin-chopper, darlint?" + +Rosie explained. "And Jarge says," she concluded, "they tumble right +over like ninepins." + +"Who's Jarge?" + +"Jarge Riley, our boarder. He's little but he's a dandy scrapper. Terry +says so, too." + +Danny wagged his head. "Jarge is right. I've turned the same thrick +meself in me younger days, many's the time." + +"It would just serve that Otto Schnitzer right, don't you think so, +Danny?" + +"I do!" Danny declared. He looked at Rosie with a sudden light in his +little blue eyes. "Say, Rosie, why don't you try it on him? He's nuthin' +but a bag o' wind anyhow. One good blow and he'll bust." + +Rosie cried out in protest: "But, Danny, he's so big and I'm so scared! +I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to fight, it scares me +so!" + +"Whisht, darlint!" Danny raised a quieting hand. "Mind now what I'm +sayin': Almost everybody's got to fight sometime. I don't mean to pick a +fight but to fight in plain self-protiction. Now it's me own opinion +that young hound of a lad'll never let up on ye, Rosie, till ye larn him +a good lesson. I could give him a crack wid me stick if ever he'd come +nigh enough, but he'd be at you just the same the next time I wasn't +around. Now, Rosie, if you ask me, I'd advise you to farce yirself to +give that young bully a good chin-chopper once and for all. And, what's +more, I'll take me oath ye'll never be feared of him again.... Come +here and I'll show you how to go at him. Palm up now with yir fingers +bent making a little cup of the inside of your hand. Do ye see? Now the +thrick is here: Run at him hard and catch his chin in the little cup. +One good blow and you'll push him over. Oh, you can't miss it, Rosie." + +Rosie's breath was coming fast and her hand was cold and shaky. "But I +don't want to do it, Danny, honest I don't! I can't tell you how scared +I am!" + +Danny wagged his head. "Of course you don't want to do it, Rosie. +Because why? Because ye're a little lady. But I know one thing: ye'll +make yirself do it! And them that makes theirselves do it, not because +they want to do it but because it's the right thing to do, I tell ye, +Rosie, them's the best fighters! Come, come, I'll crawl out to the gate +wid ye and hold yir apple for you while ye do the business." + +Fixing his bright little eyes upon her, Danny waited until Rosie had, +perforce, to consent. Then, with her help, he stood up and slowly +hobbled to the door. + +"We won't mintion the matther to the ould woman," he whispered with a +wink. "She mightn't understand." + +Rosie almost hoped that old Mary would catch them and haul Danny back, +but she could not, of course, give the alarm. + +As she had expected, the Schnitzer was there waiting for her. At sight +of Danny he moved off a little. + +"Now then, Rosie dear," Danny whispered, after Rosie had propped him +securely against the gate-post; "at him and may luck be wid ye! It's +high time that young cock crowed his last!" + +As Danny spoke, the Schnitzer's taunting cry rang out: "Look at the +paper-girl, paper-girl, paper-girl!" + +Rosie started up the street and the Schnitzer cavorted and pranced some +little distance in the front of her, making playful pounces at her +papers, threatening to clutch her hair, her arms, her dress. Then, +suddenly, he stood still, stretching himself across the middle of the +walk to bar her passage. + +Rosie's heart pounded so hard she could scarcely breathe. She wanted to +dodge to the side and run, she wanted to turn back, she wanted to do +anything rather than go straight on. But she felt Danny's presence +behind her, she heard the click-clack he was making with his stick to +encourage her, and she pushed herself forward. + +Then her mood changed. What had she ever done to this great lout of a +boy that he should be annoying her thus? He was not only terrorizing her +daily with no provocation whatever but, in addition, he was doing his +best to beat her out of her job. Yes, if she lost this well-paying job +tomorrow, it would be his fault, for he was the one thing on the route +that caused her trouble.... Oh, for the fist of a Jarge to give him the +chin-chopper he deserved! + +She was close on to him now, looking him full in the eye. "Otto +Schnitzer, you let me go by!" The words came so naturally that she was +not conscious of speaking. "I guess I got as much right to this sidewalk +as you have!" + +"You have, have you? Well, who do you think you are, anyway?" The +Schnitzer pushed out his jaw at her and grinned mockingly. + +_Who do you think you are?_ Where had Rosie heard those insulting words +before? Ah, she remembered and, as she remembered, all fear seemed +instantly to leave her heart and she cried out in ringing tones: + +"Who do I think I am? I'm the conductor of this car and if you----" + +Rosie made for the Schnitzer and, with all her strength, sent the cup of +her hand straight at his chin. You have seen a ninepin wobble +uncertainly for a moment, then go down. The comparison is inevitable. A +yell of rage and fright from the sidewalk at her feet brought Rosie to +her senses. Glory be, she had chin-choppered him good and proper! + +But what to do next? What next? In her mind's eye Rosie saw the interior +of a street-car with George Riley dancing a jig on the prostrate form of +a giant. Thereupon Danny Agin and Mary, his wife, who by this time had +joined him, and the woman next door, with a baby in her arms, saw Rosie +O'Brien perform a similar jig over the squirming members of the +Schnitzer. + +That trampled creature was sending forth a terrific bellow of, "Murder! +Murder! Mommer! Help! I'm gettin' killed!" + +"And just good for him, too!" the woman with the baby shouted over to +Mary and Danny. "I've been watching the way he's been teasing the life +out of that little girl!" + +"Good wur-r-rk, Rosie, good wur-r-rk!" old Danny kept wheezing as he +pounded his stick in enthusiastic applause. + +As the jig ended, Rosie stooped and snatched off the Schnitzer's cap. +For a moment she hesitated, for there was no mud-puddle on the street +into which to throw it. Then she noticed a tree. Good! That would give +him some trouble. She twisted the cap in her hand and tossed it up into +a high branch where it lodged securely. + +Then she leaned over the Schnitzer for the last time. He was moaning and +groaning and whimpering with no least little spark of fight left in him. +And was this the thing she used to be afraid of? Danny was right: never +again would she fear him. She gazed at him long and scornfully. Then she +gave him one last stir with her foot and brought the episode to a close. + +"Now then, you big bully, if you've had enough, get off this car--I +mean, _sidewalk_, and go home and tell your--your _mother_, I mean, that +she wants you!" + +And, as Rosie said that evening in relating the adventure to George +Riley: "And, oh, Jarge, you just ought ha' seen how that stiff got up +and went!" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE PAPER-GIRL + + +On Saturday night as soon as supper was cleared away, Terence was +accustomed to make out his weekly accounts. He had a small account-book +with crisscross rulings and two fascinating little canvas money-bags, +one for coppers, the other for nickels and silver. After his book +accounts were finished, he would gravely open his money-bags and, with +banker-like precision, pile up together coins of the same +denomination--pennies by themselves, nickels by themselves, dimes, and +so on. + +Though oft repeated, it was an impressive performance and one that Rosie +and little Jack surveyed with untiring gravity and respect. With a frown +between his eyes and his lips working silently, Terence would estimate +the totals of the various piles, then the sum total. He would very +deliberately compare this with the amount his book showed and then--it +always happened just this way--with a sigh of relief, he would murmur to +himself: "All right this time!" + +On this particular night, instead of sweeping the money piles back into +their little bags at once, Terence paused and looked at Rosie with a +questioning: "Well?" + +"Well." Rosie used the same word with a different intonation. + +"I suppose I owe you twenty cents." + +"Yes, Terry, you do." + +"Are you having any trouble?" + +With a truthfulness that made her own heart glow with happiness, Rosie +was able to answer: "No, I'm not having a bit of trouble, honest I'm +not. You're going to let me have it now regular, aren't you?" + +Before Terence could answer, Ellen O'Brien, who was seated on the far +side of the table, presumably studying the pothooks of stenography, +called out suddenly: "Ma! Ma! Come here! Quick!" + +Mrs. O'Brien appeared at once. She was still nursing the baby to sleep, +but no matter. Whenever her oldest child called, Mrs. O'Brien came. + +"Say, Ma, I think it's disgraceful the way Terry's letting Rosie sell +papers. If I was you I just wouldn't allow it! It's awful for a girl to +sell papers!" + +Rosie's heart sank. Was this comfortable income of twenty cents a week +now, at the last moment, to be snatched from her? + +"Aw now, Mama," she began; "it's only right around here where every one +knows me, honest it is! This is the end of Terry's route and he gets +here so late that if I don't help him he'll lose his customers, won't +you, Terry?" + +Rosie appealed to Terence, but Terence was busy scowling at his older +sister. "Say, Ellen O'Brien, what do you think you are? You mind your +own business or I'll give that pompadour of yours a frizzle!" + +Ellen concentrated on her mother: "I don't care, Ma! You just mustn't +let her! How do you think I'd feel going into a swell office some day, +hunting a job, and have the man say, no, he didn't want any common +newsgirls around!" + +For a moment every one was silent, overcome by the splendour of that +imagined office. Then Terence broke into a jeer: + +"Aw, forget it! If Rosie was to make her living selling papers, who'd +know about it downtown? And if some one from downtown did see her, how +would they know she was your sister? Say, Sis, it's time for you to go +shine your nails!" + +"Now, Ma, just listen to that! I wish you'd make Terry stop always +making fun of me! Haven't I got to keep my hands nice if ever I'm going +to be a stenog?" + +Mrs. O'Brien tried hard to restore a general peace: "Terry lad, you +mustn't be talkin' that way to your sister. P'rhaps what Ellen says is +right. I dunno. We'll see what himself says when he comes in." + +The young O'Briens were used to having their mother refer to their +father as one to decide all sorts of vexed questions. When he was out of +the house he seemed the person to appeal to. When, however, Jamie +O'Brien was at home, no one ever heeded him in the least. He would come +in tired and silent from his run and, after sitting about in +shirtsleeves and socks long enough to smoke a pipe, would slip quietly +off to bed. So no one was deceived by Mrs. O'Brien's manoeuver of +begging them to await their father's judgment in the matter. Rosie and +Terence would have been willing to let it mark the close of the +discussion, but not Ellen. + +"I tell you, Ma," she insisted, "it's a perfect disgrace if you don't +stop it right now!" + +Terry regarded his sister grimly. "Listen here, Ellen O'Brien, I've got +something to say to you: Who's been paying your carfare and your lunch +money, too, ever since you been going to this fool business college?" + +Mrs. O'Brien feebly interposed: "Ah now, Terry lad, Ellen's just +borrowin' the money from you. She'll pay you back as soon as she gets a +job, won't you, Ellen dear?" + +Terence grunted impatiently. "Aw, don't go talkin' to me about +borrowin'! I guess I know what borrowin' means in this house! But I tell +you one thing, Ellen O'Brien: if you don't stop your jawin' about Rosie, +it'll be the last cent of carfare and lunch money you ever get out o' +me!" + +More than two-thirds of Terence's weekly earnings went into the family +coffers, so what he said carried weight. Ellen tossed her head but was +careful not to speak. + +Terence rumbled on disjointedly: "Business college! Business nuthin'! I +bet all you do down there is look at yourself in a glass and fix your +hair and shine your nails. Huh!" + +Ellen shrugged her handsome shoulders and, tilting a scornful nose, +returned to her pothooks. + +Rosie was jubilant. She was sure Terry had intended letting her keep on, +but Ellen's opposition had clinched the matter firmly. + +"So it's all settled," she told her friend, Janet McFadden, the next +day. "Just think of it, Janet--twenty cents a week!" + +Janet sighed. "My, Rosie! What are you going to do with it all?" + +Rosie hadn't quite decided. + +Janet was ready with a good suggestion. "Why don't you save it and buy +roller skates, Rosie? I don't mean old common sixty-cent ones, but a +fine expensive pair with good ball-bearings. Then you could skate on +Boulevard Place. Why, Rosie, is there anything in the world you'd rather +do than go up to Boulevard Place with a pair of fine skates? And listen +here, Rosie: if you lend them to me in the afternoon while you're on +your paper route, I'll take good care of them, honest I will." + +H'm, roller skates. The longer Rosie thought about the idea, the better +she liked it. She decided to talk it over with Danny Agin on Monday +afternoon when she left him his paper. + +Danny met her with a sly grin. "Have you been chin-chopperin' some more +of them, Rosie?" + +Rosie looked at her old friend reprovingly. "Aw now, Danny, why do you +always talk about that? I don't like to fight boys, you know I don't. It +was Otto Schnitzer's own fault. But, Danny, listen here: Bet you can't +guess what I'm saving for." + +Danny couldn't, so Rosie explained. Then she continued: + +"You see it's this way, Danny: those old cheap skates are no good +anyhow. They're always breaking. I'd give anything for a good pair and +so would Janet. We just love to skate on Boulevard Place--the cement's +so smooth and it's so shady and pretty. But do you know, Danny, last +summer when we used to go up there on one old broken skate they called +us 'muckers.' We're not muckers just because we're poor, are we, Danny?" + +Danny Agin snorted with indignation. "As long as ye mind yir manners, +ye're not to be called muckers! You don't fight 'em, Rosie, and call 'em +names, do you?" + +"No, Danny, I don't, honest I don't, but sometimes Janet does. She gets +awful mad if any one calls her 'Cross-back!' You see, Danny, they're all +Protestants and Jews on Boulevard Place." + +"From their manners, Rosie, I'd know that!" + +"But it seems to me, Danny, if we had a pair of ball-bearing skates we'd +be just as good as they are." + +"Betther!" said Danny. + +"So you think I'm right to save for skates, do you, Danny?" + +"Do I think so? I do. Why, Rosie dear, as soon as people find out that +ye're savin' in earnest, they'll be givin' ye many an odd penny here and +there. Let me see now.... Go to the panthry, Rosie, and on the third +shelf from the top ye'll see a cup turned upside down, and under the +cup--well, I dunno what's under the cup." + +Rosie went to the pantry and under the cup found two nice brown pennies. +"Thanks, Danny. But do you think Mis' Agin would want me to take them?" + +"Mary? Why, Mary'd be givin' ye a nickel--she's that proud of you for +chin-chopperin' the young Schnitzer. He stones her cat, but if he does +it again she'll be warnin' him that you'll take after him. Ha, ha, +that'll stop him if anything will!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +A LITTLE SAVINGS ACCOUNT + + +What Danny said proved right. As soon as Rosie's immediate family and +friends heard of the project, they gave her every encouragement. Little +Jack lent her his last Christmas money-box--one of those tin banks whose +opening is supposed to be burglarproof against the seducing attractions +of all hatpins and buttonhooks except those employed by its rightful +owner--and Mrs. O'Brien suggested at once that the old wardrobe upstairs +would be the place of greatest safety for the bank. + +"You can get into it whenever you like, Rosie dear, for you know +yourself where the key's to be found." + +It might be argued that every one else in the family knew where the key +was to be found, for it was an open secret that its hiding-place was +under the foot of the washstand. Nevertheless, it was an accepted +tradition that anything in the wardrobe was under lock and key and +therefore safe. So, with unbounded confidence, Rosie slipped her first +week's wages into Jack's money-box and carefully locked the old +wardrobe. + +George Riley, the boarder, was the first to make a handsome +contribution. + +"Do you know, Rosie," he said, "here you are carrying my supper up to +the cars every night and I've never said anything more than 'Thank you.' +I just tell you I'm ashamed of myself! After this I'm going to pay you a +nickel a week regular." + +"Aw now, Jarge, you won't do any such thing!" Rosie shook her head +vigorously. "You can't afford it! And besides, Jarge, I just love to +carry your supper up to the cars, honest I do!" + +"Of course you do! And why? 'Cause you're my girl!" George turned +Rosie's face up and gave her a hearty kiss. "Now you'll be making +twenty-five cents a week regular. Here's a nickel for last week." + +Twenty-five cents a week and two good sure jobs to one who, but a few +days before, was nothing but a penniless creature dependent on any +chance windfall! Rosie hugged herself in delighted amazement. She even +bragged a little to her friend Janet McFadden. + +"Why, Janet, once you know how to do it, making money's just as easy as +falling off a log! Look at me: My papers don't take me more'n half an +hour in the afternoon and carrying Jarge's supper-pail up to the cars is +just fun. And every Saturday night twenty-five cents, if you please!" + +Janet said "Oh!" with a rising inflection and "Oh!" with a falling +inflection: "Oh! Oh!" + +"And besides that, if I hadn't my paper route I'd have to take care of +Geraldine all afternoon. Don't you see?" + +"You would indeed, Rosie, I know you would." + +Rosie looked at her friend thoughtfully. "Say, Janet, why don't you get +a job? Of course, I'll lend you my skates, but if we both had a pair we +could go to Boulevard Place together. Wouldn't that be fun?" + +Janet cleared her throat apologetically. "Do you think Terry would give +me a job, Rosie?" + +Hardly. Though he did employ Rosie, Terence was scarcely in position to +employ every needy female that might apply to him. Rosie spoke kindly +but firmly: + +"No, Janet, I don't believe Terry can take on any more girls. When I get +my skates, though, I tell you what I'll do: I'll let you 'sub' for me +sometimes. Yes. On the afternoons I go to skate on Boulevard Place, I'll +let you deliver my papers. I'll pay you three cents a day. Three cents +ain't much but, if you save 'em real hard, they count up--really they +do. If you 'sub' for me eight different times then you'll have +twenty-four cents. I told you, didn't I, that twenty-five cents is +what's coming in to me now every week regular?" + +Yes, Rosie had already specified the amount many times but Janet, being +a devoted friend, exclaimed with unabated enthusiasm: "You don't say so, +Rosie! Well, I think that's just grand!" + +Janet was right. It is fine to have an income that permits one to enjoy +the good things of life. Without a touch of envy Rosie could now view +the rich Jews and Protestants as they skimmed the smooth surface of +Boulevard Place. She, too, would soon be rolling along as well skated as +the best of them. The time was not far distant when, hearing the soft +whirr of the ball-bearings, they would look at her with a new respect +and no longer call out "Mucker!" the moment her back was turned. + +This was the happy side of saving. There was, however, another side, and +to ignore it would be to ignore the effect upon character which any +effort as conscious as saving must produce. In simple innocence Rosie +had started out supposing that all that was necessary toward saving was +to have something savable. She soon discovered her mistake. The prime +essential in saving was not, after all, the possession of a tidy little +sum coming in at regular intervals, so much as the ability to keep that +sum intact. That is to say, for the sake of this one Big Thing, that +looms up faint but powerfully attractive on the distant horizon, you +must do without all the Little Things that make daily life so pleasant. + +Alas, once you begin saving, you may no longer heedlessly sip the joys +of the moment taking no thought for the morrow. Saving involves thought +for the morrow first of all! In the old days when she hadn't a penny, +Rosie had somehow managed to enjoy an occasional ice-cream cone, or a +moving picture show, or a cent's worth of good candy. Now, on the other +hand, with money in the bank, these and all like indulgences were +forbidden. She was saving! + +If for a moment she tried to forget the wearisome task to which she had +publicly dedicated herself, some one was always at hand to remind her of +it and to rescue her, as it were, from her weaker self. For instance, if +she even hinted of thirst in the neighbourhood of a root-beer stand, +Janet McFadden would turn pale with fright and hurriedly drag her off, +imploring her to remember that, once she had her skates, she could have +all the root-beer she wanted. Yes, of course, but Rosie sometimes felt +that she wanted it when she wanted it and not at some far-off time when +she would, no doubt, be too old and decrepit to enjoy it. + +The experience began to give Rosie a clue to one of those mysteries of +conduct which had long puzzled her. She had never stood in front of the +glowing posters of a picture show, saying to herself or to any one that +chanced to be with her: "I tell you what: If I had a nickel, I bet I +know what I'd do with it!" nor paused before a bakery shop or a candy +store, that she hadn't seen other people--men, women, and children--with +eyes as full of desire as her own. What used to amaze her was that many +of these people, she was absolutely sure, had money in their pockets. +Heretofore, in her ignorance of life, she had supposed that, to possess +yourself of anything you wanted, was a simple enough matter provided you +had money in your pocket--or in your bank, which is the same thing. What +a mistake she had made! How she had misjudged those poor creatures who, +in spite of their jingling pockets, so often turned regretful backs upon +the pleasures of life. Rosie understood now. Money in their pockets had +nothing to do with it for--they were saving. + +Unknown even to themselves they were all members of a mystic +brotherhood, actuated by the same impulse, undergoing the same +sacrifices for some ultimate benefit. Look where she would, she saw them +plainly: Miss Hattie Graydon, Ellen's fashionable friend, saving for an +outing in Jersey; Janet McFadden's poor mother always saving for a new +wash-boiler; George Riley saving to give himself a good start on his +father's farm; and now, the newest recruit to their ranks, Rosie +herself, saving for ball-bearing roller skates. + +"I'd just love to go with you! If there's anything I do enjoy, it's a +matinee. But I can't. I got to have a new hat this spring." + +"I'd like to lend it to you, Charley, the worst ever, but I don't see +how I can. I got to save every cent this year for payments on the +house." + +"Waffles nuthin'! I ain't goin' a-spend a cent till I got enough money +for a new baseball mitt!" + +They were the things Rosie had been hearing all her life but never +until now had she grasped what they meant. Think of it, oh, think of +it--the heroic self-denial that masks itself in commonplaces like these! +Rosie wondered if the others, too, had their moments of weakness. +Weren't there perhaps times when George Riley sighed over the shabbiness +of his clothes, realizing that, if only he were a little sportier, Ellen +might not scorn him so utterly? + +Theoretically practice makes easy, but Rosie found that the practice of +self-denial, instead of growing easier, became harder as time went by. +The week she had a dollar ninety-five in her bank, a Dog and Pony Show +pitched its tent in a field which Rosie had to pass every afternoon on +her paper route. She thought the sight of that tent would kill her +before the week was over. The only things talked about at school were +Skippo, the monkey that jumped the rope, Fifi, the dancing poodle, and +Don, the pony, who shook hands with people in the front row. Afternoon +admission was ten cents but, nevertheless, there were people who +attended daily. + +Even Janet McFadden, valiant soul that she was, grew pale and wan under +the strain. "Of course, though, Rosie," she said, "you wouldn't have +time to go even if some one was to give you a ticket." + +This was Friday, so Rosie was able to answer: "I could go tomorrow +afternoon, Janet. You know the Saturday matinee begins at two instead of +half-past three. That'd get it over by four. I could ask you or +somebody to get my papers for me and meet me at the tent at four +o'clock. Then I'd be only a few minutes late." + +Janet made hopeless assent. "Yes, I could get them for you all right. +And if some one was to give me a ticket, Tom Sullivan would get them for +you--I know he would. Tom would do anything for you, Rosie." + +Tom was Janet's red-haired cousin and a flame of Rosie's. + +"Yes, Janet, I suppose Tom would. But there's no use talking about +it.... Now if only I could just take----" + +Rosie broke off and Janet, understanding her thought, murmured hastily: +"No, no, Rosie! Of course you can't take any of that!" + +Janet was right. Rosie could not possibly raid her own bank. Too many +eyes were upon her. Yet all she needed was a quarter: ten cents for +herself, ten for Janet, and five for her small brother. She couldn't go +without Janet and Jack and, as she hadn't a cent anyhow, it was just as +easy to plan the expenditure of a quarter as of a dime. + +She wondered idly if there could by some happy chance be more in her +bank than she supposed. She hadn't counted her savings for nearly a +week. There wasn't much likelihood that a dime or a quarter or a nickel +had escaped her count, but perhaps now--... There was one chance in a +thousand, for Rosie was not very strong in addition. At any rate, after +supper she would slip up to the wardrobe and, with a bent hairpin, make +investigations. A dollar ninety-five was all she was responsible for to +the world at large. If her bank contained more, she could appropriate +the surplus and no one be the wiser. + +Supper afforded one excitement. + +"Oh, lookee!" Jack suddenly cried, pointing an excited finger at Ellen. +It was the period of pompadour and false hair and Rosie and Terence, +following Jack's finger, saw a new cluster of shiny black curls in +Ellen's already elaborate coiffure. + +"Get on to the curls, Rosie," Terence remarked facetiously. "Lord, ain't +we stylish!" + +Ellen made no remark but seemed a little flurried. + +"Shame on you, Terry!" Mrs. O'Brien expostulated. "Talkin' so of your +own sister! Don't you know if Ellen's to be a stenog, she's got to be +careful of her appearance? All the young ladies at the college are +wearing curls." + +Terence answered shortly: "She can wear all the curls she wants as soon +as she's able to pay for them. But I tell you one thing, Ma: you needn't +think you're going to get me to pay for them, because I won't. She tried +to work me for them last week and I told her I wouldn't." + +Ellen regarded her brother distantly. "You make me tired, Terence +O'Brien. When you're asked to pay for these curls it'll be time for you +to squeal." + +"Are they paid for already?" + +"Of course they're paid for already. Do you think I can get curls on +tick?" + +Terence's incredulity changed to suspicion. Turning to his mother he +demanded: "Did you give her the two dollars you begged from me for the +baby's food?" + +Mrs. O'Brien spread out distracted hands. "Why, Terry lad, of course I +didn't! Rosie went to the drug-store herself with the money, didn't you, +Rosie?" + +Yes, Rosie had, but even this did not satisfy Terry. + +"Well, anyhow, I bet she's playing crooked somewhere!" + +Ellen disdained to answer and Rosie remarked: "I'd rather spend my money +on skates than on old curls." + +Ellen looked at her kindly. "They say skates are going out of style, +Rosie." + +Rosie folded her hands complacently. "I don't care whether they're going +out or coming in. I don't like 'em because they're fashionable but +because I like 'em. If the Boulevard Placers didn't have one pair I'd +want to go up there by myself and skate by myself just the same. I love +roller skates! And, what's more, by the time vacation comes I'll have +the finest pair of ball-bearing skates in town! And vacation, mind you, +comes at the end of next week!" + +Terence nodded a cautious approval. "You're that close to the finish, +are you, Rosie?" + +"Sure I am. Tomorrow night when I get paid I'll have two twenty and, by +the end of next week, if I can manage to scrape up an extra nickel, I'll +have two fifty exact." + +Mrs. O'Brien fluttered her hands nervously. "I dunno about all this +skatin', Rosie dear. I dunno if it's healthy to jump around so." + +Rosie smiled superiorly. "I don't jump around. I know how to skate." + +A few moments later Ellen excused herself from her usual evening duties +on the plea that her friend, Hattie Graydon, had invited her out. So +Rosie had to wipe the supper dishes as well as wash them before she +could slip upstairs for the purpose of counting her savings. + +She found the wardrobe key in its usual place and the little bank where +she had put it, hidden beneath her mother's Sunday hat. She reached for +it and lifted it up and then, with a loud cry, she clutched it hard and +shook it with all her might. + +"Ma! Ma!" she screamed, flying wildly downstairs. "My money! Some one's +taken all my money!" + +"Ssh!" Mrs. O'Brien implored. "Ye'll be wakin' Geraldine!" + +For once Rosie heeded not the warning. "I tell you my money's gone! Some +one stole it! Listen here!" She was weeping distractedly and waving the +empty bank aloft. "There's not a cent left! And, Terry, look here how +they took it!" + +The thief had not even had the grace to use a hairpin, but had calmly +bent back the opening slit. + +Terence looked at his mother sternly. "Ma, who took Rosie's money?" + +Mrs. O'Brien squirmed uncomfortably. "Now, Terry lad, how do I know who +took it? But I do know this: whoever it was that took it only borrowed +it and Rosie'll get paid back." + +"Paid back!" wept Rosie. "Don't talk to me about getting paid back in +this house! I guess I know!" + +With a determined eye Terence held his mother's wavering attention. +"Now, Ma, you know very well who took that money and I want you to tell +me." + +"Why, Terry lad, how you talk!" Mrs. O'Brien turned her head to listen, +in hopes, apparently, that the baby would require her presence. "But I +will say one thing, Terry: Ye know yirself a young girl, if she goes +out, has to keep up appearances." + +Terence nodded grimly. "So it was Ellen, was it? I thought so." + +"Ellen," Rosie repeated in a dazed tone. Then her body grew tense, her +eyes blazed. "Terry, I know! Those curls! I bet anything it was those +curls!" + +Mrs. O'Brien made no denial and Rosie, dropping her head on the table, +wept her heart out. + +"Terry, Terry, what do you know about that! And after the way I been +working hard and saving every cent for two whole months! Just think of +it! And you know yourself the fuss she always made about my selling +papers at all! It's disgraceful for me to sell papers because I'm a +girl, but it ain't disgraceful for her to go steal all my money and buy +curls!... And I can't do nuthin'! If she was a nigger, I could have her +arrested but, because she's my own sister, I can't do nuthin'! Oh, how I +hate her, how I hate her!..." + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed unhappily. "But, Rosie dear, Ellen'll be paying you +back as soon as she gets a job. She promised me faithfully she would. +You see, she'll soon be going around to them offices now and she feels +she ought to be lookin' her best. Oh, you'll be gettin' back your money +all right! Why, nowadays a good stenog gets ten dollars a week up!" + +Terence cut his mother off sharply. "Aw, forget it! You can't fool Rosie +with guff like that! I tell you, Ellen's nuthin' but a low-down crook +and it's your fault, too, for encouraging her!" + +"But, Terence lad, what could I do? I thried to dissuade her, but ye +know yirself how set she is once she gets an idea into her head." + +Yes, Terence and Rosie both knew and they knew, likewise, their mother's +helplessness in her hands. With no further words they could easily +imagine just what had taken place. Mrs. O'Brien had, no doubt, tried +hard to protect Rosie's interests. She could always be depended on to +protect the interests of an absent child. Her present attitude was an +evidence of this, for now she was turned about seeking to defend Ellen +because Ellen was absent. + +A wail from upstairs brought her ineffectual excuses to a close and, +with a "Whisht! The baby!" she fled. + +Rosie, crushed and miserable, wept on. Terence put an awkward hand on +her shoulder. + +"Say, Rosie, I'm awful sorry, honest I am. I wish I could give you a +quarter, but I can't this week. They've cleaned me out. Here's a nickel, +though." + +Rosie did not want the nickel; at that moment she did not want anything; +she took it, however, because Terry wished her to. + +"Thanks, Terry. It wasn't your fault. You're not a sneak and a thief. +I--I'm glad some of my relations are honest." + +Little Jack, who had been listening gravely, snuggled up with a sudden +suggestion: "Say, Rosie, if you want me to, I'll kick her in the shins +when she comes in." + +Rosie wiped her eyes sadly. "No, Jackie, I don't see how that'll do any +good." + +"Do you want me to spit in her eye?" + +Rosie gave Jack a tight hug, for his sympathy was sweet. Then she shook +her head reprovingly. "You mustn't talk like that, Jackie, and you +mustn't do things like that, either. You don't want to be a mucker, do +you?" + +For this once Jack thought that perhaps he did, but, when Rosie +insisted, he promised to behave. + +From babyhood he had been Rosie's special charge, so now, when the time +came, she took him upstairs and saw him safely to bed. Then she herself +slipped down to the front porch and there on the steps, in the dark +electric shadow, she waited for her friend, George Riley. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +GEORGE RILEY ON MUCKERS + + +Rosie had not long to wait, as George's run ended at nine o'clock. + +"Sst! Jarge!" she called softly as he bounded up the steps and would +have passed her in the dark. + +"Is that you, Rosie?" + +"Sit down a minute, Jarge. I want to ask you something." + +George mopped his head with his handkerchief and drew a long breath. +"Whew, but I'm tired, Rosie! I rang up over seventy-five fares three +times tonight." + +Rosie opened with no preliminary remarks. "Say, Jarge, can you lend me +twenty-five cents until tomorrow night? You know I get paid tomorrow." + +"Sure, Rosie. What for?" + +"I want to go to the Dog Show matinee." + +George paused a moment. "But, Rosie, you don't need twenty-five cents +for that. You told me it was ten cents." + +"I know, Jarge, but I want to take Jackie and Janet." + +"Why, Rosie!" + +"Well, if I don't, poor Janet'll never get there. She never gets +anywhere. You know her father boozes every cent. And I just got to take +Jackie if I go myself. Besides, he'll only cost me five cents and that +will let me use the nickel Terry gave me for peanuts." + +"But, Rosie,"--George cleared his throat--"I thought you were saving +every penny. You know you can't save and spend at the same time." + +"I'm not saving any more." Rosie spoke quietly, evenly. + +"Not saving any more! What do you mean, Rosie? What's happened?" + +She could feel his kind jolly eyes looking at her through the dark but +she knew that he could not see the tears which suddenly filled her own. + +"N-nothing," she quavered. + +"Rosie! Tell me!" He put his arm about her shoulder and drew her to him. +At the tenderness in his voice and touch, all the sense of outrage and +loss in Rosie's heart welled up afresh and broke in sobs which she could +not control. + +"I wasn't going to tell you, Jarge, honest I wasn't, because you're dead +gone on her and, besides, she's my own sister." + +For a few seconds Rosie could say no more and George, with a sudden +tightening of the arm that encircled her, waited in silence. + +"I--I was going up to count my money, Jarge, and what do you think? Some +one had smashed open the bank and taken every cent! I tell you there +wasn't even one cent left! And, Jarge, I've been saving so hard--you +know I have!" She lay on his shoulder, her body shaking with sobs. + +George spoke with an effort: "Why do you think it was Ellen?" + +"Terry and me got it out o' ma. When we cornered her she told us.... And +she's gone and spent it on a bunch of curls! Think of that, Jarge--curls +for her hair! Just because Hattie Graydon's got false curls, Ellen's got +to have them, too! Now do you call that fair? I saved awful hard for +that money, you know I did, and it was my own!" + +George sighed. "Poor kiddo! Of course it was your own! But Ellen'll pay +you back, I--I'm sure she will." + +"That's what ma says. But, Jarge, even if she does, it won't be the same +thing. Just tell me how you'd feel yourself if all your savings were +snatched away from you!" + +George's answer was unexpected. "They have been, Rosie, a good many +times." + +"What!" Rosie sat up in fright and astonishment. "Has she dared to go +and break into your trunk?" + +George laughed weakly. "No, Rosie, it ain't Ellen this time." He paused +a moment. "I've told you about my father's farm. It's a good farm and +I'd rather live on it and work it than do anything else on earth. But +it's got run down, Rosie. The old man's had a mighty long spell of +unluck. A few years ago he got a little mortgage piled up on it and for +nearly two years now he hasn't kept it up like he ought to. In the +country you've got to have ready money to wipe out mortgages and to +start things goin' right. That's why I'm here in town railroading and +that's why I'm saving every cent until people think I'm a tightwad." + +"But, Jarge, how did they get it away from you so many times?" + +"Well, just to show you: Two years ago one of the barns burned down. +That cost me two hundred dollars. Last summer we lost a couple of our +best cows worth sixty dollars apiece. This winter the old man was laid +up with rheumatiz a couple o' months and it cost me a dollar a day to +get the chores done, let alone the doctor bill. And each time I was just +about ready to blow my job here and hike for home. I thought sure I'd be +doing my own plowing this spring." + +Weariness and discouragement sounded in his voice and Rosie, forgetting +her own troubles, slipped her arms about his neck. + +"I'm awful sorry, Jarge. Maybe if nothing happens this summer you'll be +able to go back in the fall." + +George shook himself doggedly. "Oh, I'll get there some time! I cleaned +up the mortgage the first year I was here and now I'm working to pile up +five hundred in the bank before I go. I'm getting there, too, but I +hope to God I won't have any more setbacks!" + +"And if you do, Jarge?..." + +The answer came sharp and quick: "I'll save all the harder!" + +For a few moments both were silent. Then George spoke: "I'm sorry, +Rosie, about this thing. I know how you feel. If you want to, after this +you may hide your savings in my trunk. I've got two keys and I'll give +you one." + +"I--I didn't think I was going to save any more, Jarge." + +"Not save? Of course you're going to save! You've got to save!" + +"Why?" + +"So's to have something to show for your work!" + +"But it takes so awful long, Jarge, and even then maybe you lose it." + +"I know, Rosie, but even so you got to do it. It's only muckers that +never save." + +"Why, Jarge!" + +"Sure, Rosie. Only muckers. They blow in every cent they get as soon as +they make it or before. That's why they can afford to go off on drunks +and holler around and smash things up. They ain't got nuthin' to lose no +matter what they do. Oh, I tell you, Rosie, just show me a loud-mouthed +mucker and I'll show you a fellow that don't know the first thing about +saving!" + +"Really, Jarge?" + +"Yes, really. And the same way, take decent hard-working people and what +do you find? As sure as you're alive, you'll find them saving every cent +to put the children through school, or pay for their home, or take care +of the old folks. I tell you, Rosie, you got to save if ever you get +anywhere in this world!" + +"But, Jarge, I--I think I just got to go to that Dog Show now." + +George laughed and gave her a little hug. "All right, kiddo. Here's the +quarter. Have a good time and tell me about it afterwards. Next week, +you know, you can begin saving in earnest. My trunk----" + +"Please, Jarge," Rosie begged, "don't make me promise. Give me a week to +think about it." + +"Of course you can have a week to think about it." They were standing up +now, ready to go into the house. "But I know all right what you'll +decide." + +"How do you know?" + +George stooped and gave her a hearty country kiss, smack on the mouth. +"Because I know there's nothing of the mucker about Rosie O'Brien!" + +And Rosie, as she slipped upstairs, tying the quarter in the corner of +her handkerchief, suddenly realized that she was no longer unhappy. How +could any one be unhappy who had a friend as good and as kind as George +Riley? And, in addition to him, she had nice old Terry--hadn't he given +her a nickel and been sorry it wasn't a quarter?--and dear little Jackie +and the faithful Janet and poor old Danny Agin, too! Thank goodness, +neither Ellen nor any one else could steal them away from her! + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +JACKIE + + +In declaring that Ellen would repay the money she had taken from Rosie's +bank, Mrs. O'Brien had spoken in all sincerity. She was perfectly +convinced in her own mind that every one of her children would always do +exactly as he should do. She was willing to acknowledge that the poor +dears might occasionally make mistakes, but such mistakes, she was +certain, were mistakes of judgment, not of principle. Give them time, +she begged, and in the end they would do the right thing. She'd stake +her word on that! + +Ellen's own attitude was one of annoyance, not to say resentment, that +she had been forced to raise money for the curls in so troublesome a +manner. Rosie's reproachful glances and Terry's revilings irritated but +in no way touched her. In fact, she seemed to think that, in +appropriating Rosie's savings, she had been acting entirely within her +rights. She would never have been guilty of touching anything belonging +to an outsider but, like many selfish people, she had as little respect +for the property of the members of her own immediate family as she had +for their feelings. It was quite as though she conscientiously believed +that the rest of the O'Briens had been placed in this world for the sole +purpose of adding to her comfort and convenience. It always surprised +her, often it bored her, sometimes it even grieved her that they did not +share this view. It seemed to her nothing less than stupidity on their +part not to. + +So, despite her mother's promises, despite George Riley's hopes, Rosie +knew perfectly well that her savings would never be refunded. They were +gone and that was to be the end of them. Thanks to kind George Riley, +Rosie had weathered the first storm of disappointment and had learned +that, notwithstanding a selfish unscrupulous sister, life was still +worth living. Neither then nor later did she definitely forgive Ellen +the theft--how could she forgive when Ellen, apparently, was conscious +of no guilt?--but she tried resolutely not to spend her time in vain +regrets and useless complainings. The days passed and life, like the +great river that it is, flowed over the little tragedy and soon covered +it from sight. + +The school year slowly drew to a close and at last Mrs. O'Brien felt +free to make a request about which she had been throwing out vague hints +for some time. + +[Illustration: "Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie."] + +"Rosie dear," she began with an imploring smile, "now that vacation's +come and you don't have to go back any more to school, won't you, like a +good child, help your poor ma and take care of your little sister +Geraldine? Here, baby darlint, go to sister Rosie." + +Mrs. O'Brien held out the baby, but Rosie backed resolutely away. + +"Now see here, Ma, you just needn't begin on that, because I won't. I +guess I do enough in this house without taking care of Geraldine: I wash +all the dishes, and that old Ellen O'Brien hardly ever even wipes them; +and I do the outside scrubbing; and I go to the grocery for you six +times a day; and I help with the cooking, too; and I always carry up +Jarge's supper to the cars; and I take care of Jackie. Besides all that, +I got my paper route. I guess that's enough for any one person." + +Mrs. O'Brien conceded this readily enough. "Of course it is, Rosie dear, +and I'm not sayin' it ain't. You're a great worker, and a fine little +manager, too. I used to be a manager meself, but after ye've been the +mother of eight, and three of them dead and gone--God rest their +souls!--things kind o' slip away from you, do ye see? What was it I was +sayin' now? Ah, yes, this: now that summer's come, if only ye'd help me +out with Geraldine, p'rhaps I could catch up with me work. Like a +darlint, now." + +Mrs. O'Brien, shifting Geraldine from one warm arm to the other, smiled +ingratiatingly; but Rosie only shook her head more doggedly than before. + +"No, Ma. The rest of the people in this house don't do things they don't +want to do, and for once I'm not going to either. I tell you I'm not +going to begin lugging Geraldine around!" + +"You poor infant!" Mrs. O'Brien crooned tearfully, "and does nobody love +you? Ah, now, don't cry! Your poor ma loves you even if your own sister +Rosie don't!" + +Responsive to the pity expressed in her mother's tones, Geraldine raised +a fretful wail, but Rosie, though she felt something of a murderess, +still held out. + +"I tell you, Ma, Jackie's my baby. I've taken good care of him, and +that's all you can ask." + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed in patient exasperation. "But, Rosie dear, can't you +see that Jackie's a big b'y now, well able to take care of himself?" + +"Take care of himself! Why, Ma, how you talk! Don't I have to wash him +and button his shoes and put him to bed?" + +"Well, I must say, Rosie, it's high time he did such things for +himself--a fine, healthy lad going on six! Why, yourself, Rosie, hadn't +turned six when you began mothering Jackie!" + +It was not a subject Rosie cared to argue, so she retired in dignified +silence. But her mother's words troubled her. In her heart she knew that +Jackie was a well-grown boy even if in many things he was still a baby. +But why shouldn't he still be a baby? The truth was Rosie wanted him to +be a baby; it delighted her to feel that he was dependent on her; it was +her greatest pleasure in life to do things for him. And if she was +willing to serve him, why, pray, should other people object? + +Unfortunately, though, certain disturbing changes were coming over +Jackie himself. Within a few months he had burst, as it were, the +chrysalis of his babyhood and come forth a full-fledged small boy with +all a small boy's keenness to be exactly like all other small boys. +Rosie's interest in his welfare he had begun to resent as interference; +her supervision of him he was openly repudiating; and, worst of all, he +was showing unmistakable signs of becoming fast friends with Joe +Slattery, youngest member of the family and neighbourhood gang of the +same name. Rosie had done her best to check the growing intimacy, but in +vain. So long as school continued, Jack could meet Joe in the +school-yard, and Rosie had been helpless to interfere. But now, for the +coming of vacation, she had a project carefully thought out. In her own +mind she had already arranged picnics at the zoo, excursions to the +woods, jaunts to the park, that would so occupy and divert the attention +of Jack that he would soon forget Joe and the lure of the Slattery gang. + +What time, may one ask, would Rosie have for this work if she burdened +herself with Geraldine? None whatever. No. Geraldine was her mother's +baby, and if her mother didn't insist on Ellen's relieving her a little, +why, then she would have to go on alone as best she could. With her +everlasting excuse of business college, Ellen did little enough about +the house anyway. Rosie hardened her heart and, as the family gathered +for midday meal, was ready with a plan for that very afternoon. + +She broached the subject at the table. "Say, Jackie, do you want to come +with me this afternoon? I'm going somewheres." + +"Oh, I dunno." + +Rosie's heart sank. But a short time ago he would have jumped down from +his chair and rushed over to her with an eager: "Oh, Rosie, where you +going? Where you going?" Now all he had to say was an indifferent, "I +dunno." + +Rosie made one more effort to arouse his old enthusiasm. "Me and Janet +are going up to Boulevard Place." + +She waited expectantly, and Jack finally grunted out in bored +politeness: "That so?" + +A moment later his indifference vanished at a vigorous shout from +outside: "Hi, there, Jack! Where are you?" It was Joe Slattery's voice. + +"I'm th'u," Jack announced, gulping down a last bite. "I got to go." + +"Where you going, Jackie?" Rosie tried not to show in her voice the +anxiety she felt. + +"Oh, nowheres. Don't you take hold o' me, Rosie, 'cause I'm in a hurry." + +Rosie went with him to the door, still keeping her hand on his shoulder. +"Please tell me where you're going." + +"You just let go my arm! I'll kick if you don't!" + +Jack struggled violently, broke away, and, escaping to a safe distance, +scowled back at Rosie angrily. "'Tain't none o' your business where I'm +going! Guess I can go where I want to!" + +"Oh, Jackie, Jackie! Is that the way to talk to your poor Rosie?" + +Joe Slattery, who had, of course, instantly espoused his friend's cause, +now spoke: "He's goin' in swimmin'! That's where he's goin' if you want +to know it!" + +"Swimmin'! You mustn't, Jackie, you mustn't! You'll get drownd-ed! Sure +he will, Joe! He don't know how to swim one bit!" + +Joe grinned mockingly. "Guess he can learn, can't he?" + +Rosie paused distractedly, then clutched at the only straw that floated +by. "See here, Jackie, you can go with Joe and you can look on, but +listen: if you promise me you won't go in, I'll give you a whole +nickel!" + +Jack looked at Joe and Joe looked at Jack. Then with the eye farthest +away from Rosie, Rosie thought she saw Joe screw out a small wink. +Thereupon Jack turned to Rosie with a frank, guileless smile. + +"All right, Rosie. You give me a nickel and I won't--honest I won't." + +"You promise me faithfully you won't go in?" + +"Sure I won't, Rosie! Cross my heart!" + +Rosie drew out one of her hard-earned nickels and gave it to him. He +and Joe promptly hurried off. + +"Now, remember!" Rosie called after them, beseechingly; but they seemed +not to hear, for they made her no answer. + +Rosie went back to the table almost in tears. "Jackie's gone off with +that Joe Slattery and they're goin' in swimmin' and I just know he'll +get drownd-ed!" + +"You don't say so!" ejaculated Mrs. O'Brien. "Why didn't you tell me, +Rosie dear, before they got started?" + +"Tell you!" Rosie's tears changed to scorn. "Why'd I tell you? You know +very well how much you'd do! You always let every one do just what they +want!" + +Mrs. O'Brien blinked reproachful eyes. "Why, Rosie, how you talk! If +you'd ha' told me that Jackie was goin' in swimmin' I'd ha' gone out to +him and said: 'Now, Jackie dear, mind the water! Don't go in the deep +places first!' I give you me word, Rosie, I'd ha' said it if it were me +last breath!" + +Rosie lost all patience. "I know very well that's exactly what you'd +say! That's all the sense you got! That's all the sense that anybody in +this house has got! And I suppose by this time Jackie's drownd-ed, and +if he is I want to die, too!" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her in amazement. "Why, Rosie dear, what a +flutter ye do be puttin' yourself into! Ah, now I see. It's because +Jackie's your first chick! Take me word for it, darlint, when ye're the +mother of eight ye won't be carryin' on so. Come to think about it, I +remember meself over Mickey--God rest his soul!--the first day he went +swimmin'. Mickey was just turned seven, and Terry here was toddlin' +about on the floor, and yourself was in me arms no bigger than poor wee +Geraldine. + +"'Where's Mickey?' says I to Mrs. Flaherty, who was livin' next door. + +"'Mickey?' says she. 'Why, didn't I see Mickey start off with the b'ys? +They be gone swimmin',' says she. + +"'Swimmin'!' says I, and with that I lets out a yell. 'He'll be +drownd-ed!' says I. 'Me poor Mickey'll be drownd-ed!' + +"'Be aisy, Mrs. O'Brien,' says she; 'or ye'll be spoilin' yir milk and +then what'll ye do?' And she was right, Rosie, was Mrs. Flaherty, for +Mickey got back safe and sound, to be carried off two years later with +scarlet fever!" + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head complacently and poured herself another cup +of tea. + +Rosie, her face still tragic and woebegone, turned to her brother. "Will +you do something for me, Terry?" + +"What?" + +"Follow Jackie out and see that he don't get into deep water." + +Terry looked at her as if she were crazy. "Sorry, Rosie, but I got +something more to do than trail Jack around. Besides, he's not going to +get hurt. It'll be good for him." + +Rosie washed the dinner dishes in silence, thinking to herself what a +cold-blooded family she had. There was poor wee Jackie out there +drowning, for all they knew, and not one of them willing to stretch +forth a helping hand. She escaped as soon as she could to seek the +sympathy of her friend, Janet McFadden. + +Another blow was in store for her. Janet heard her out and then said: +"But, Rosie, don't all boys go swimming?" + +Rosie was ready to weep with vexation. "What do I care what all boys do? +This is Jack!" + +"Well," said Janet, with maddening logic, "even if it is Jack, I guess +Jack's a boy." + +Drawing herself up to her greatest height, Rosie looked her friend full +in the face. "If that's all you got to say, Janet McFadden, I guess I +had better be going. Good-bye." + +"Don't you want me to help with your papers this afternoon?" Janet +called after her. + +"No!" Rosie spoke brusquely, then added lamely: "I'm in a hurry today." + +"Oh, very well!" Janet lifted her head and tightened her lips. "I'm sure +I don't want to go where I'm not wanted." + +"So she's mad at me, too!" Rosie told herself as she hurried off, +feeling more miserable than before. + +She got her papers and went about delivering them, nursing her grief in +her heart, till she came to old Danny Agin's cottage. Then she talked +and Danny, as usual, listened quietly and sympathetically. + +At first he had nothing to say. He screwed his head about thoughtfully, +squinted at his pipe, tapped it several times on the porch rail, blew +through the stem, then finally cleared his throat. + +"It's just this way, Rosie: I know exactly how ye feel. Jack's yir own +baby, as it were; but, whist, darlint, he can't be always taggin' after +ye, don't ye see? He's a pretty big lump of a b'y now, and if I was you +I'd just let him run and play by himself when the mood takes him. Then, +when he comes back, just talk to him like nuthin' was the matther, and +upon me word, Rosie, he'll love ye all the more for it." + +"But, Danny," Rosie wailed, "what if he was to get drownd-ed?" + +Danny reached over and patted her on the arm confidentially. "Ah, now, +Rosie, what if we was all to get drownd-ed? You know it happened wance. +Noah was the gintleman's name. From all accounts 'twas a fearful +experience. But 'twas a long time ago, and since then any number of us +have escaped. Why, Rosie dear, I've never yet been drownd-ed meself, and +in me young days I was mighty fond of the wather. So cheer up, darlint, +for the chances are that Jackie'll come out all right." + +Rosie dried her eyes listlessly. It seemed to her they were all in +conspiracy against her. Yes, she was sure of it. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +HOW TO KEEP A DUCK OUT OF WATER + + +Jack was home in good time for supper. + +"Ah, now, do you see, Rosie?" Her mother pointed to him in triumph. +"It's just as I told you. Here he is safe and sound. But, Jackie dear, +mind now: the next time don't ye go into the deep water until ye know +how to swim." + +Ellen glanced at him amusedly. "Been in swimmin', kid?" + +To Rosie the question seemed both stupid and inane, for Jack's face had +a clean, varnished look that was unmistakable, and his hair had dried in +stiff, shiny streaks close to his head. + +He was hungry and ate with zest, but he said little and carefully +avoided Rosie's eye. Very soon after supper he slipped off quietly to +bed. Rosie did not pursue him. She was waiting for George Riley, upon +whom she was pinning her last hope. + +Presently he came but, before she had time to get his advice, she was +hurried upstairs by Jackie himself, who called down in urgent, tearful +tones: + +"Rosie! Oh, Rosie! Come here! Please come! Come quick!" + +The little front bedroom with its sloping walls and one dormer window +was Ellen's room, theoretically. Actually, Rosie shared Ellen's bed, and +Jack's little cot stood at the bottom of the bed between the door and +the bureau. + +Rosie felt hurriedly for matches and candle. "Now, Jackie dear, what's +the matter? You're not sick, are you? Tell Rosie." + +"It hurts! It hurts!" Jack was sitting up, wailing dolefully. He reached +toward Rosie in a helpless, appealing way that warmed her heart. +Whatever was the matter, it was bringing him back to her. + +"What is it hurts, Jackie?" + +"My back! It burns! I tell you it's just burnin' up!" + +Rosie gently lifted off his nightshirt and held the candle close. + +"Jackie! What's happened to your back and shoulders? They're all red and +swollen! What did those Slattery boys do to you?" + +"They didn't do nuthin', Rosie, honest they didn't. Ouch! Ouch! Can't +you do something to make it stop hurting?" + +"Wait a minute, Jackie, and I'll call Jarge Riley. Jarge'll know what to +do." + +George came at once and as quickly recognized Jack's ailment. "Ha, ha, +Jack, old boy, how's your sunburn? Jiminy, you've got a good one this +time!... Say, how's the water?" + +[Illustration: Rosie gently lifted off his nightshirt and held the +candle close.] + +"Ugh-h-h!" moaned Jack. "It hurts!" Then with a change of voice he +answered George enthusiastically: "Dandy! Just as warm and nice as +anything!" + +George sighed. "Golly! Wisht I was a kid again! There sure is no place +like the old swimmin'-hole in the good old summer-time!" + +Rosie glared indignantly. "Jarge Riley, ain't you ashamed of yourself! +It's dangerous to go in swimming and you know it is! Jackie's never +going in again, are you, Jackie?" + +Jack snuffled tearfully: "My back hurts! Can't some o' you do something +for it?" + +Rosie turned stiffly to George. "What I called you up here for was to +ask you what's good for a sunburnt back." + +"Excuse me," murmured George meekly. "Let's see now: We ought to put on +some oil or grease, then some powder or flour." + +"Will lard do?" Rosie still spoke coldly. + +"Yes, but vaseline would be better. There's a bottle of vaseline on my +bureau. Do you want to get it, Rosie?" + +Rosie hurried off and returned just in time to hear George say: "Oh, you +can go in again in two or three days." + +Rosie blazed on him furiously. "Jarge Riley, what are you telling +Jackie?" + +"I?" He spoke with an assumption of innocence and that look of +guilelessness which Rosie was fast learning to associate with male +deceit. "I was just telling him it would take a couple o' days for his +back to peel. Then he'll be all right again." + +Rosie looked at him in scorn, but made no comment. She resolved one +thing: George Riley should have no more moments alone with Jack. When +the time came, she made him go downstairs for the flour-shaker, then +curtly dismissed him. + +"I guess you can go now, Jarge. Jackie wants to go to sleep. Now, Jackie +dear, just lie on your stummick and you'll be asleep in two minutes." + +George hesitated a moment. "Didn't you say you wanted to see me about +something, Rosie?" + +Rosie looked at him steadily. "If ever I said that it was before I knew +you as well as I know you now. Now they isn't anything I want to say to +you." + +George gasped helplessly and departed, and Rosie, after settling Jack +comfortably, blew out the candle.... So even George Riley had joined the +conspiracy against her! Well, she was not done fighting yet. + +She insisted upon making an invalid of Jack the next morning, keeping +him in bed and carrying up his breakfast to him. All day long, she +waited on him, hand and foot, loved, amused, coaxed, threatened, bribed +him, until by evening she had him weak and helpless, ready to agree to +anything she might suggest. + +At supper Mrs. O'Brien beamed on him sympathetically and remarked to +Ellen, who was just home from business college: "Ellen dear, do you +know the awful back o' sunburn poor wee Jack's got on him? Rosie's been +nursing him all day." + +Ellen glanced at Terry and laughed. "Do you remember, Terry, how you +used to come home after your first swim every summer?" + +Jack looked up eagerly. "Oh, Terry, did you used to get sunburned, too?" + +Terry nodded. "Sure I did. Every fella does." + +Jack's face took on an expression of heavenly content. + +"Is it peeling yet?" Terry asked. + +"No, but it's cracking." Jack's tone was hopeful. + +Rosie moved uneasily. "Terence O'Brien, I just wish you'd look out what +you're saying, and you too, Ellen! It's dangerous to go in swimming, and +Jackie's never going again, are you, Jackie?" + +Jack hesitated a moment, then murmured a weak little "No." + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded approvingly. "Ah, now, ain't Jack the good b'y to +promise sister Rosie never to go in swimmin' again!" + +Ellen chuckled. "At least until his back's well!" + +Rosie flew at her sister like an angry little clucking hen. "Ellen +O'Brien, you just mind your own business! Come on, Jackie, we're +through. We're going out in front by ourselves, aren't we?" + +Jack, apparently, wanted to remain where he was; but when Rosie +whispered, "And I've got another penny for you," he slipped quietly +down from his chair. + +When you know that this was Jack's fifth penny for that day, you have +some idea of what the struggle was costing Rosie. A week's wages seemed +in a fair way of being eaten up in a few days. It was a fearful drain on +her resources, but anything, Rosie told herself, to keep him out of the +clutches of the Slattery gang! + +By the third day his back was dry and peeling. After dinner, as Rosie +was coming home from the grocery, she found him at the front gate +boasting about it to Joe Slattery. + +Rosie interrupted politely: "Jackie, will you come into the house a +minute? I got something to ask you." + +Jack looked at her kindly. "All right, Rosie. You go on in and I'll be +in in a minute." + +The dismissal was so friendly that Rosie could not gainsay it. She +hurried around to the back door and then rushed through the house to the +front door, which she slipped open wide enough to see and to hear what +was going on at the gate. Joe Slattery's voice carried distinctly. + +"Say, Jack, what do you say to goin' down now? Aw, come on! Let's." + +Rosie did not have to ask herself what Joe Slattery was proposing; she +knew only too well. Breathless, she awaited Jack's answer. It came with +scarcely an instant's hesitation. + +"All right. Let's." + +Jack was out of the gate and off before Rosie could push open the front +door. + +"Jackie! Jackie! Where you going? Wait for Rosie!" + +"Me and Joe got to go down and see a fella. We'll be back soon, won't +we, Joe?" + +"Sure we will, Rosie. We'll be back in ten minutes." + +Rosie shook her head reproachfully. "Jackie, Jackie, you're telling +Rosie a story, you know you are! You're going swimming and you promised +me you wouldn't! Oh, Jackie, how can you, after the nickel I gave you +this morning, and the seven cents yesterday, and the nickel the day +before, and the nickel of the first day you went with Joe? Oh, Jackie, +how can you take poor Rosie's money and then act that way?" + +Jack had nothing to say, but Joe Slattery was able to answer for him. + +"Aw, go on, Rosie O'Brien--Jack's goin' in swimmin' if he wants to! I +guess you ain't his boss! Come on, Jack!" + +Joe threw his arm about Jack's shoulder and together they marched off. + +Rosie put forth one last effort: "Jackie O'Brien, you listen here: If +you go swimming with Joe Slattery, I----" She searched about frantically +for some threat sufficiently terrifying. She paused a moment, then hit +upon something which, a few months earlier, would have worked like +magic. "If you do, _I'll never button your shoes again! Never again!_" + +Jack glanced back insolently over Joe's shoulder. "Aw, go on! What do I +care? Anyway, it's summer-time and I'm goin' barefoot!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A LITTLE MOTHER HEN + + +For Rosie this was the end. This was defeat and she accepted it as such. +Slowly and tearfully she dragged herself into the house. + +"Ma, Ma, after all I've done, there he's gone!" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked up in concern. "Who did you say was gone, Rosie?" + +"Jackie! He's gone off swimming again with that old Joe Slattery!" + +"Is that all it is, Rosie?" Mrs. O'Brien seemed much relieved. "You gave +me quite a turn." + +"But, Ma, what am I going to do?" + +"Well, Rosie dear, what do you want to do?" + +"I want to save Jackie from those old Slatterys." + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed sympathetically. "Ah, I'm afeared you can't do that, +Rosie. Jack's a b'y and you know how it is: b'ys do like to run around +with other b'ys." + +"But what if he gets all sunburnt again and maybe drownd-ed?" + +"Ah, now, but maybe he won't." + +There were times when, to Rosie, her mother's easy-going optimism was +maddening. Today it seemed to her the very sort of thing you might +expect to find in a hot, untidy kitchen cluttered up with +clothes-horses and steaming with fresh ironing. The rickety old +baby-carriage, draped in mosquito-netting, stood near the ironing board, +and Mrs. O'Brien, as she changed irons, would give it a push or two. +Geraldine was whimpering miserably, and little wonder, Rosie felt. + +Mrs. O'Brien, on the other hand, seemed surprised and grieved that she +was not cooing herself comfortably to sleep. "Ah, now, baby, what can be +ailin' ye? Can't you see your poor ma is working herself to death to get +your nice clean clothes all ready for you? Now stop your cryin', +darlint, or your poor ma won't be able to iron right, and then what'll +sister Ellen say when she comes in? Ho, ho, Ellen's a Tartar, dear, she +is that! Now you wouldn't want your poor ma to be scolded by Ellen, +would you? Indeed and you wouldn't! So hush now like a good baby, and +don't be always cryin'...." + +Rosie stood it as long as she could, then her heart overflowed in +indignant speech: "Of course she's crying in this horrible hot kitchen! +Why wouldn't she? And they's flies in her mosquito-netting, too!" + +Mrs. O'Brien paused in her ironing to shake her head in mournful +reproach. "Why, Rosie, how you talk! Where else can I put the poor child +but right here? Upstairs in Ellen's room and in my room it's just like +an oven. Jarge's room, downstairs here, is cool enough, but I can't use +that, for Jarge pays good money for it and besides lets Terry sleep with +him. No, no, Rosie, I can't impose on Jarge." + +Rosie's blue eyes snapped. "Well, why can't you put her in the front +room? That's cool." + +"Why, Rosie! You know very well why I can't. Ellen won't let me. When a +girl's a young lady like Ellen, she's got to have a place for gintlemin +callers, and how would she feel, she says, if her gintlemin friends was +to smell Geraldine!" + +"Smell Geraldine! Maggie O'Brien, I'd think you'd be ashamed o' +yourself! Geraldine'd be all right if you changed her and washed her +often enough! You can bet nobody ever smelled Jackie! It's just your own +fault about Geraldine, and you know it is!" + +"Rosie dear, why do you be so hard on your poor ma? I'm sure I wash her +whenever I get the chance. I'm always washin' and ironin' somethin'!" + +"Yes. You're always washing and ironing Ellen's things!" + +"Why, Rosie, how you do be talkin'! When a girl's a young lady she's got +to have a good supply of fresh skirts and clean shirt-waists. Men like +to see their stenogs dressed clean and pretty." + +"Aw, what do I care how men like their stenogs? All I want to say is +this: If you got a baby, you ought to wash it!" + +"Yes, Rosie dear, but what'd you do if you'd been like your poor ma and +had had eight babies? Ah, you don't know how wearyin' it is, Rosie!" + +Rosie rushed out of the kitchen, unable longer to endure the discussion. +But she was back in a few moments, carrying towels and a large white +basin. + +"Why, Rosie dear, are you really goin' to give poor little Geraldine a +nice----" + +"Maggie O'Brien, if you say a single word to me I won't do a thing!" +Rosie glared at her mother threateningly. + +"Mercy on us, Rosie, how you talk! I won't say a word! I promise you on +me oath I'll be as quiet as a mouse! You won't hear a sound out o' me, +will she, baby darlint? I'll be like the deaf and dumb man at the +Museum. He talks with his fingers, Rosie. You'd die laughin' to see +him...." + +At the cooling touch of water, little Geraldine quieted her whimpering +and began to smile wanly. The sight of her neglected body made Rosie's +anger blaze anew. + +"Maggie O'Brien, I don't believe you've touched this baby for a week! +You ought to be ashamed o' yourself! Just look at how chafed she is, and +her body all over prickly heat, too!... Where's the corn-starch?" + +"Rosie dear, I'm awful sorry, but we're out o' corn-starch. I've been +meanin' this two days to have you get some." + +"Well, I'd like to know what I'm going to put on Geraldine!" + +"Couldn't you run over to the grocery now?" + +"No, I can't! It's almost time for my papers. I know what I'll do: I'll +borrow Ellen's talcum." + +"Oh, Rosie, Ellen wouldn't like that!" + +"I don't care if she wouldn't! I guess she helps herself to other +people's things. Besides, if she's so particular about her gentlemen +friends, she ought to be glad to have Geraldine all powdered up with +violet talc." + +"Don't tell me, Rosie, that you mean to be puttin' Geraldine in the +front room! Ellen'll be awful mad!" + +"Let her be! When she begins to ramp around, you just _sick_ her on to +me! I'll be ready for her! Besides, I guess Geraldine's got some rights +in this house!" + +On the floor of the front room, between two chairs, Rosie made a cool +little nest, protected with mosquito-netting. The tired baby sighed and +turned and was asleep in two minutes. + +"You poor little thing!" Rosie murmured as she stood a moment looking +down at the dark circles under Geraldine's closed eyes and at the cruel +prickly heat that was creeping up her neck. "You poor little thing!" + +She went back slowly and thoughtfully to the kitchen. Before her mother +she paused a moment, then looked up defiantly. "Ma, has Geraldine a +clean dress to go out this afternoon in the baby-buggy?" + +Mrs. O'Brien's face began to beam with delight. "Ah, now, do you mean to +say----" + +Rosie cut her off shortly. "Maggie O'Brien, if you say one word to me +I'll drop the whole thing!" + +Mrs. O'Brien stopped her ironing to stretch out a timid, conciliatory +hand. "Rosie dear, why do you always be so sharp to your poor ma? I +won't say a word, I promise I won't. Geraldine's things is at the bottom +of the basket, and the moment I finish this waist of Ellen's I'll get at +them." + +Rosie felt a sudden pang of shame, but a foolish little pride made her +keep on scolding. + +"Well, I got my papers to attend to now, but see that you have those +things ready by the time I get back." + +"Indeed and I will!" Mrs. O'Brien declared with head-shaken emphasis. + +All afternoon on her paper route Rosie thought of poor, neglected little +Geraldine with her chafed body and sad, tired eyes. It wasn't her fault, +poor baby, that she had come eighth in a family when every one was too +busy and hard-worked to pay attention to her.... But it was a +shame--that's what it was! I just tell you when there's a baby around, +some one ought to take proper care of it!... Rosie wanted dreadfully to +fasten blame somewhere, and the person naturally responsible would seem +to be her mother. + +For some reason, though, she couldn't work up much of a case against +Mrs. O'Brien. That poor soul had enough to do, and more than enough, +without ever touching Geraldine. She was not, it is true, the best +manager in the world, and she was dreadfully helpless in the hands of +unscrupulous people like, say, her own daughter Ellen; but when all was +said and done, she was fearfully hard driven, early and late, and never +a day off. And yet how cheerful and uncomplaining she was! How loving +and kind, too, never remembering the cross words you gave her nor the +short, ill-natured answers. No matter how you had been acting, she would +call you "dear" again, the moment you let her.... + +Moreover, even if she did not wash Geraldine as often as she should, +Heaven knows it was not to save herself. Maggie O'Brien would have gone +through fire and flood for the benefit of any of her children, living or +dead, and Rosie knew this. No, no. The things slighted were not slighted +because she was lazy and selfish, but because there were not hours in +the day for her one pair of hands, willing but not very skilled, to do +all there was to do in the crowded little household. + +But if it was once granted that her mother was unable to give Geraldine +proper care, was the child, Rosie asked herself, never to receive such +care? In her heart Rosie knew the one way possible and at last forced +herself to consider it. Could she take this baby and raise it as she had +Jackie?... To have Geraldine for a morning or an afternoon would be a +pleasure; but all day and every day--that was another matter. Rosie +knew how time-consuming it was to be a mother. She knew what it meant to +look after a baby's food and its naps and its baths and its clothes. And +such things were worse now than in Jackie's time. It would never do to +raise another baby in the haphazard fashion Jackie had been raised. The +care of babies was an exact science now. Out of curiosity Rosie and +Janet had once attended a few meetings of the Little Mothers' Class at +the Settlement, so Rosie knew. She sighed. Among other things, she +supposed she would have to become a regular member of that class.... +Dear, dear, what time would be left for all those lovely vacation +picnics which she had been planning for herself and Janet and Jackie?... +Jackie!... She had forgotten: _there wasn't any Jackie now_. + +Rosie stopped, expecting again to be swallowed up in that ancient grief. +But it scarcely touched her. Instead, she found herself looking at +Jackie with the critical eyes of an outsider. He was pretty big. Perhaps +he did not need her any longer. George Riley and Danny Agin and Janet +McFadden and Terry and her mother--hadn't each of them said the same +thing? Rosie had wanted to make herself believe that they were all in +league against her, but deep down in her heart she knew they were not +and had always known it. Now at last she was ready to confess the truth: +Jack did not need her any longer.... And poor little Geraldine did. + +Of course, though, she would never love Geraldine. All the love in her +heart she had poured out upon Jackie, and there simply wasn't any left. +How could there be? It was merely that, in any case, she must fill up +the barren days remaining with something. Why not with Geraldine? + +It would, however, be rather pleasant to see Geraldine grow plump and +happy under her wise care. Ever since hot weather the poor birdie had +not had half enough sleep. Rosie would not be long in remedying that. +And it would surprise her much if she did not have the little chafed +body well within a week.... + +When you take a baby to raise, it's a satisfaction to get a pretty one. +Geraldine promised to be very pretty. Her hair was growing out in loose +little ringlets like Rosie's own, and her eyes, too, were like Rosie's, +only bluer. Perhaps, when Rosie fattened her, she would have a dimple. +Rosie herself had a lovely dimple that was much admired. Let's see: was +it in the right cheek or the left? Rosie made sure by smiling and +feeling for it. Yes, she really hoped that Geraldine would develop a +dimple. Was there anything on earth sweeter than a dimpled baby?... The +baby-buggy was a rickety old affair that had done service for Jackie and +for little Tim that was gone. Rosie did wish they could afford a nice +new up-to-date go-cart. No matter, though. Having any sort of thing to +push about, would give her and Janet all the excuse they needed to +promenade for hours up and down Boulevard Place. + +Not that Rosie was looking forward with any pleasure to her new +undertaking. Heavens, no! She shook her head emphatically. Henceforth it +was duty, not pleasure, to which she would devote her life. You know how +it is in this world: though our hearts, alas, are breaking, we must all +do our duty. + +She found Geraldine refreshed and happy after her long nap. She dressed +her carefully in the clean clothes that were waiting and settled her +comfortably in the old carriage. Then, when they were ready to start, +she turned to her mother. + +"I want to tell you something, Ma: I'm going to take care of Geraldine +this summer. Then maybe you won't have to work so hard." + +Mrs. O'Brien laughed and cried and hugged Rosie to her bosom. + +"Oh, you darlint, you darlint! What's this ye're tellin' me!... Ah, +Rosie, if I do say it, ye're the best child that ever stood in shoes! +Geraldine darlint, do ye hear what sister Rosie says?" + +Mrs. O'Brien paused a moment, then spoke more quietly: "And, Rosie dear, +I've been sorry about this Jackie business--I have that. It's a turrible +thing when a little mother hen has only one chick, to have that chick +turn out a goslin'! But take me word for it, Rosie, Geraldine'll niver +disapp'int ye so. Ye'll niver take to water, will ye, baby dear?" + +Rosie choked a little. "I--I guess we better be going. We got to stop +for Janet." + +They started off, and Mrs. O'Brien, in a fresh ecstasy of delight, +called after them: "Ah, look at the blissed infant, as happy as a lamb +with two mothers!" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +JANET'S AUNT KITTY + + +Janet McFadden, after one searching look in Rosie's face, rushed forward +eagerly. + +"I'm so glad to see you! Where have you been all this time?" + +Rosie dimpled with pleasure. Wasn't it sweet of Janet not to refer to +the coldness of their last meeting? That was Janet right straight +through: always ready to be insulted on the first provocation, but just +as ready, once she knew you still loved her, to let bygones be bygones. + +"Well, you see, Janet, Jackie's been sick. No, not really sick, but +sore. His back was all sunburnt. He'd been in swimming for the first +time. You know boys always go in swimming and get sunburnt the first +day. But he's all right now and I don't have to bother about him any +more." + +Janet blinked in surprise and started to say something when the +expression on Rosie's face checked her. She paused, then exclaimed, +rather fatuously: "How sweet Geraldine looks!" + +"Doesn't she!" Rosie spoke enthusiastically. "Say, Janet, don't you +think she's a nice baby?" + +"I do indeed!" Janet wagged her head impressively. "You know yourself I +always did think she was a nice baby and I never could make out why you +didn't like her more." + +"Janet McFadden, how you talk! Of course I like Geraldine! I love her!" +Rosie bounced the baby-carriage vigorously and made direct appeal to +Geraldine herself: "Doesn't sister Rosie love her own baby? Of course +she does! And she's going to take care of her all summer, isn't she? +because ma's too busy." + +"Why, Rosie!" Janet began. + +Rosie faced square about and with one look challenged Janet to show +further surprise. + +"Why--why, isn't that nice!" Janet murmured meekly. + +"Of course it's nice and we're going to Boulevard Place every afternoon, +aren't we, Geraldine? We're going there now and Janet can come with us +if she wants to." + +Janet wanted to, but she had to refuse. "I can't today, Rosie. I've got +to help my mother. But tomorrow afternoon--will you stop for me then? +I'll expect you." + +In this way friendship was restored. Not having to bear the strain of an +insistent questioning from Janet, its restoration was simple. Something +had occurred to change Rosie's attitude in regard to her small brother +and sister and upon this something she was not disposed, evidently, to +be communicative. Well, Janet was not inquisitive. Besides, even if +this subject of conversation was taboo, conversation was not in any +danger of early extinction. When together, Janet and Rosie always +talked--not perfunctorily, either, but with much emphasis and many +headshakings. Goodness me, they never stopped talking! After only a few +hours' separation, each had a hundred things to tell the other. By the +very next day Janet had a bit of news, that was to furnish them an +exciting topic for weeks to come. + +When Rosie called for Janet the following afternoon, her knock was +answered by Tom Sullivan, who instantly blushed a glowing crimson and +with difficulty stammered: "Yes, Janet's home. Come on in." + +Rosie found Janet and her mother entertaining Mrs. Sullivan, who was +Dave McFadden's sister and therefore Janet's aunt. + +At sight of Rosie, Mrs. Sullivan exclaimed gushingly: "If there ain't +Rosie O'Brien! You sweet thing! Come right here and kiss me!" + +Rosie had to submit to the caress although she knew it was intended as a +slight to Janet. That was one of Aunt Kitty Sullivan's little ways. Aunt +Kitty was a fat, smiling, middle-aged woman who was going through life +under the delusion that her face still retained the empty prettiness of +its youth. + +"I was just a-saying to Janet," Aunt Kitty began, "that she ought to be +making herself more attractive. As long as she goes about looking like +a scarecrow, she never will have a beau! Ain't that right, Rosie?" + +Aunt Kitty smiled upon Rosie that meaning smile with which one conscious +beauty appeals to another. Rosie did not respond to it. From the bottom +of her heart she despised Aunt Kitty for the persistence with which she +tormented Janet. When Rosie came in her tirade must have been going on +for some time, for Janet looked tense and angry and her mother badly +flustered. + +Mrs. McFadden, hard-worked and worn and shabby, could not openly resent +her sister-in-law's little pleasantries, for Kitty Sullivan was the +prosperous member of the family. The chance that had given her a sober, +frugal, industrious husband had also given her a certain moral +superiority over all women whose husbands were not sober or frugal or +industrious. Mrs. McFadden did not question this superiority; she +accepted it humbly. Far be it from her, poor drudge that she was, to +dispute the words of a woman who could afford good clothes and a weekly +ticket to the matinee. So all she said now in Janet's defence was: + +"Kitty, I wish you wouldn't be putting such notions into Janet's head. +She's too young to have beaux." + +"Too young!" scoffed Mrs. Sullivan. "I guess I begun havin' beaux when I +was a good deal younger than Janet is now! Why, nowadays a girl can't +begin too young havin' beaux, or the first thing she knows she's an old +maid! Ain't that right, Rosie?" + +Rosie turned her head away, mumbling some unintelligible answer. Tom, +blushing until his freckles were all hidden, came to her rescue. + +"Aw, now, Ma, why can't you let up on Janet? She ain't done nuthin' to +you!" + +Mrs. Sullivan looked at her son reprovingly. "Tom Sullivan, you just +mind your own business! What I'm saying is for Janet's own good. And I +must say, Mary McFadden, it's your fault, too. You ought to be dressing +Janet better now that she's getting big." + +Mrs. McFadden sighed apologetically. "I'm sure I dress her as well as I +can, Kitty." + +"Well, then, all I got to say is you must be a mighty poor manager, with +Dave making good money and you yourself working every day!" As she +finished, Mrs. Sullivan smiled and dimpled with all the malicious +triumph of a precocious child. + +Rosie felt shamed and troubled. To Mrs. Sullivan's taunt there was one +answer that everybody present knew, but that neither Mary McFadden nor +Janet would ever give, and that Rosie, as an outsider, could not give. +But even so, Mrs. Sullivan was not to go unanswered. Tom, blushing with +mortification, jumped to his feet. + +"Ma, you're the limit! You ought to be ashamed o' yourself! Uncle Dave +makes good money, does he? Yes, and he boozes every cent of it, and +Aunt Mary here has got to work like a nigger to pay the rent and keep +herself and Janet, and you know it, too." + +"Tom Sullivan, you shut up!" Mrs. Sullivan's voice rose to an angry +scream. "How dare you interrupt me! You deserve a good thrashing, you +do, and you're goin' to get it, too, as soon as your father comes +home!... Dave boozes, does he? Well, all I got to say is this: he never +boozed before he got married, and if he boozes now it's a mighty queer +thing!" + +Rosie stood up to go. "Say, Janet, you promised to come with me this +afternoon. Get your hat." + +"Yes," advised Mrs. Sullivan; "put on that old black sailor hat that +makes you look like a guy. Mary McFadden, if I had a girl I wouldn't let +her out on the street in a hat like that!" + +Rosie and Janet started off and Tom called after them: "Wait a minute! +I'll come, too!" + +"No, you don't!" his mother ordered. "You stay right where you are! You +don't get out o' my sight till I hand you over to your dad!" + +Once safe on the street, Rosie put a sympathetic arm about Janet's +shoulder. "Even if she is your aunt, Janet, I think she's low-down and I +hate her!" + +"Pooh!" Janet tossed her head in fine scorn. "In my opinion she ain't +worth hating! She ain't nuthin'! I consider her beneath my contemp'! +The truth is, Rosie, I don't mind her buzzin' around any more than I +do a fly! She'd die if she didn't talk; so I say let her talk. If she +couldn't she'd probably do something worse. My mother feels the same +way. We get tired of her sometimes, but we stand her because she's my +dad's own sister.... Of course, though, some of the things she says is +perfectly true. I ain't pretty. You are, Rosie, but I ain't and I know +it, and that's all there is about it." + +Janet spread out her hands in simple candour and glanced at her friend. +Then, involuntarily, she gave a little sigh. It was not a sigh of envy. +She really did accept as a matter of fact that she herself was not +pretty and that Rosie was. Where Rosie was plump and rounded and +graceful, Janet knew that she was flat and long and lanky. Her arms were +long, her fingers were long, her face was long. Her dark hair, too, was +long, but with nothing in texture or colour to recommend it. She wore it +pulled straight from her forehead and hanging behind in two stiff +plaits. + +With her old black hat, her colourless face, her faded clothes, she gave +the impression of a very shabby, serious little person. And she was +both. Rosie, on the other hand, though as poorly dressed, seemed +anything but shabby and serious, for she was all life and colour, like +some little roadside flower, which, in spite of dusty leaves, raises +aloft a bright, fresh bloom. + +Janet might bravely dismiss her aunt with a wave of the hand, but Rosie +insisted upon repeating herself. + +"I don't care what you say, Janet, I think she's low-down the way she +talks to you and your mother! Now Tom's nice. That was fine the way he +spoke up. You don't think his father'll lick him, do you?" + +"Uncle Matt?" Janet laughed. "Nev-er! Uncle Matt's just crazy about Tom. +They're like two kids when they're together. And that reminds me, +Rosie--goodness me, I was forgetting all about it!" Janet paused to give +full flavour to her bit of news. "What Tom came over for this afternoon +was to tell me that Uncle Matt has promised to give him and me tickets +for the Traction Boys' Picnic--you know it's coming in two weeks +now--and Tom says he's going to try to beg another ticket for you!" + +"Is he really, Janet? Now isn't he just too kind!" + +"Kind? I should say he is! He's bashful, of course, and people laugh at +him because he's got red hair, but he's just as generous as he can be. +You remember last year I went with him, too. Why, do you know, last year +his father had six customers who bought their tickets and then turned +right around and said: 'But we can't go, so you just give these tickets +to some one who can.' Uncle Matt had enough tickets for the whole family +and two more besides. He sold those two and give us all ice-cream sodas +on them." + +"Did he really, Janet! That just proves what I always say: in some ways +I'd much rather have my father be a conductor than a motorman. A +motorman never gets a chance at a ticket. I'm glad Jarge Riley's a +conductor. I bet he sells a good many, don't you?" + +"Of course he will, Rosie! I hadn't thought of Jarge. If a customer +gives Jarge back a ticket, of course he'll pass it on to you--I know he +will. Gee, Rosie, you're lucky to have a fella like Jarge Riley boarding +with you. He sure is a dandy." + +To this last Rosie agreed readily enough but on the priority of her +claim to any tickets she set Janet right. "If he gets only a couple, +he'll give Ellen first chance." + +Janet sighed. "Say, Rosie, is he still dead gone on Ellen?" + +Rosie sighed, too, and nodded. "Ain't it funny with a fella that's got +so much sense about other things?" + +Janet sighed again. "I don't like to say anything against Ellen, because +she's your sister, but, as you say yourself, it certainly is funny." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +ROSIE RECEIVES AN INVITATION + + +Rosie did not see George that night, but she brought up the subject next +day at dinner. It was Sunday, so the whole family was assembled. + +"Are you selling many tickets, Jarge?" + +"Yes, a good many, and one of my customers give me back two." + +"Oh, Jarge, did he really? What are you going to do with them?" + +George glanced timidly in the direction of Ellen. It was plain at once +what he wanted to do with them. It was also plain that Ellen was not +going to give him much encouragement. To get the support of the family, +George made his invitation public. "I was hoping that Ellen would like +to go with me." + +Ellen glanced up languidly. "Thanks, Mr. Riley, but I don't see how I +can." + +George, swallowing hard, forced out the question: "Why not?" + +"Well, if you insist on knowing, it's this: I don't care to make a guy +o' myself going out with a fella that don't come up much above my +shoulder." + +Mrs. O'Brien threw up astonished hands and cried out: "Fie on you, +Ellen, fie, for sayin' such a thing!" + +Rosie blazed and spluttered with indignation: "Ellen O'Brien, you ought +to be ashamed o' yourself to talk like that to a nice fella like Jarge +Riley! If you had any sense you'd know that he's worth a whole cart-load +of the dudes that you and Hattie Graydon run after!" + +Rosie got up from her chair and, stepping over to George's place, +slipped her arm about his embarrassed neck. Then she put her cheek +against his. "Don't you care what that old Ellen says, Jarge. You're not +little at all! You're plenty big enough! Besides, little men are much +nicer!" + +Ellen laughed maliciously. "It's a pity George don't ask you." + +The red again surged up George's neck; he gulped; sent one hurt glance +in Ellen's direction, then spoke to Rosie: "Rosie, I've got tickets for +the Traction Boys' Picnic and I'd love like anything to take you. Have +you got anything else on for Friday night next week?" + +"Friday night, did you say, Jarge? Why, for Friday night they ain't +nuthin' 'd suit me better! Thanks ever so much!" + +Rosie, still behind George's chair, shot an annihilating glance at +Ellen. That young woman, a trifle piqued perhaps but still amused, +tossed her head and laughed. + +"Ma, I don't think it's right the way Rosie's getting a grown-up fella +and me not even engaged yet! I don't think you ought to allow it!" + +"Ellen, Ellen, your tongue's entirely too long!" Mrs. O'Brien looked at +her reprovingly, but Ellen, in a sudden change of mood, heeded her not. +She was gazing at Rosie with speculative eyes. When she spoke, it was in +a tone from which all banter and ill-humour had vanished. + +"Ma, if Rosie does go with George Riley, there's just one thing: she's +got to have a new dress. The poor kid hasn't a stitch to her back. She +ought to have a little pink dimity. She's just sweet in pink. Lucky, +too, there's a sale on tomorrow at the Big Store. So you needn't say a +word--I'm going to get her something. And I'll trim her a hat, too." + +Mrs. O'Brien protested that she hadn't the price of a ten-cent hat, let +alone a dress, but Ellen, as usual, was firm, and Rosie knew that she +was now destined to go to the picnic prettily costumed. Rosie would have +liked to nurse a while longer her indignation against Ellen but, as +Ellen was the only person in the house who knew how to trim a hat out of +little or nothing and how to whip together a pretty little dress, Rosie +was forced to change her manner of open hostility to one of a more +friendly reserve. + +On the whole Rosie was jubilant. "I'm sure I don't know why it is," she +said to Janet McFadden, "but people are pretty nice to me, aren't they?" + +"Nice?" echoed Janet with long-drawn emphasis. "Well, I should think +they are!... Say, Rosie, listen:"--Janet paused a moment--"do you think +Tom and me and you and Jarge could all go together? Do you think Jarge'd +mind?" + +Rosie considered the request carefully before answering. Then she spoke +as kindly as she could: "I'm sure I don't know, Janet. Perhaps he'd like +it all right, but, then again, perhaps he wouldn't. Don't you know, men +are so queer nowadays. Anyway, though, I tell you what: I'll ask him." + +"Will you, Rosie?" Janet's gratitude was almost pathetic. + +Later, in presenting the case to George himself, Rosie's manner lost its +air of Lady Bountiful, and she pleaded Janet's cause with an earnestness +for which Janet would have worshipped her. + +"Aw, now, Jarge, please! Poor Janet won't be in our way and she would +love to be with us. Tom Sullivan don't talk much and he's got red hair, +but he's awful nice, really he is. I told you he was trying to get me a +ticket before you invited me. And besides, Jarge, if we get tired of +them we can give them the slip for a little while." + +As soon as Rosie paused for breath, George said: "Of course we'll let +Janet and Tom Sullivan come with us if you want them. This is to be your +party and you're to have things your own way." + +Rosie looked her adoration. "Oh, Jarge, you're just too kind to me, +really you are!" + +The new dress was a great success. It was a little rosebud dimity, pink +and pale green, which Ellen designed in pretty summer fashion to make +the most of Rosie's well-turned little arms and graceful neck. On a +ten-cent bargain counter Ellen had found a hat of yellow straw which was +just the thing to shape into a little bonnet and trim with a wreath of +pink rosebuds and two soft green streamers which hung down on either +side. + +Ellen planned and worked and was happier than Rosie herself over each +new effect. Mrs. O'Brien, hovering about, beamed with approval. + +"Ellen's an artist with her needle," she declared over and over again. +"She is indeed. How she does remind me of me own poor dead sister +Birdie! There was a milliner in Dublin would have give her two eyes to +get Birdie into her shop." + +Mrs. O'Brien was right. Ellen was an artist with her needle and took all +an artist's joy in her own creation. As she worked on Rosie's costume, +she showed none of that impatient, overbearing selfishness which marked +her so disagreeably at other times, but was gentle, frank, and +affectionate. Once when she pricked Rosie's shoulders by accident she +kissed the hurt away, and Rosie, surprised and touched, threw her arms +impulsively about her neck. + +"Why can't you always be like this to me, Ellen? I'd just love you +dearly if you were." + +Ellen laughed a little shamefacedly. "Ain't I nice all the time, Rosie? +Well, I'm afraid it's that old business college. It gets on my nerves. +I suppose I ought to be studying now, but I'm not going to. I'm not +going to stop until I finish this for you." + +On the afternoon of the picnic, Ellen was so proud of Rosie's appearance +that for once she forgot her haughtiness to George Riley. "Now tell the +truth, George, aren't you glad it's Rosie instead of me?" + +George gave Ellen one sick look, gulped, then said bravely: "Rosie sure +is mighty pretty!" + +"Pretty? I should say she is! See her now. Don't she look like a little +flower--a sweet-pea or something? And do you know, George, if I was to +dress that way, with my size and my height, I'd look like a guy! Yes, I +would." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE TRACTION BOYS' PICNIC + + +They started off in time to make the half-past-five boat. George was at +his dressiest, so close-shaven that he looked almost skinned and +resplendent in new tan shoes, green socks, a red tie, and a pink shirt. +It was a striking combination of colour and one that made Ellen clutch +at her mother in despair. George carried a shoe-box of sandwiches, for +Rosie, always a thrifty little housewife, insisted that whatever money +they had to spend was not going for the commonplace necessaries of life. + +Janet McFadden and Tom Sullivan, with a similar shoe-box, were waiting +for them at the corner. Janet, in her old black sailor hat, looked +dreadfully neat and clean, but for some reason even dingier than usual. +It was Janet's first view of Rosie's finery. Shaking her head slowly, +she gazed at Rosie several moments before she spoke. Then she said: + +"Well, Rosie O'Brien, I must say you certainly do look elegant!" + +Tom Sullivan was so flustered by the close vision of Rosie's loveliness +that, when he opened his mouth to say something, he could only splutter +unintelligibly and then blush furiously at his own embarrassment. + +It is surprising, when one stops to think about it, how delightful a +mere street-car ride downtown really is. As Rosie sat there with her +plain but faithful friend on one side--hereafter she must always try to +be especially kind and gentle to Janet--and on the other her sporty, +grown-up escort, she had one of those rare moments of perfect content +and happiness. Old gentlemen smiled at her absent-mindedly as she +brushed aside the green streamers which the wind was forever blowing +across her face; young girls examined her critically; a mother across +the way distracted the attention of a weeping child by pointing her +finger and saying: "Oh, Eddy, look over there at that pretty little +girl! She's lookin' straight at you, and what'll she say if she sees you +cryin'!"... It was really a lovely, lovely world, and Rosie honestly and +truly hoped that everybody in it was happy. + +They reached the boat at that delightful moment when the bell is ringing +and the deckhands are threatening to pull in the gang-plank in spite of +the rushing crowds still arriving. By the time they had pushed their way +to the upper deck, the gang-plank was in, the band was striking up a gay +march, and with a lurch and a turn the _Island Princess_ was off. + +"O-oh!" murmured Rosie happily, and Janet demanded tensely, of no one in +particular: "Isn't this just grand!" + +Mothers and wives bustled about to get folding chairs and campstools, +but the young folk, scorning so soon to sit down, promenaded arm in arm. +Tucking Rosie's hand under his elbow, George joined the ranks of the +promenaders, and Janet and Tom Sullivan followed his lead at a +respectful distance. + +At the stern, seated off by themselves, was a group of picnickers who +hailed George as an old friend and waved at him inviting arms and +handkerchiefs. + +"Let's go over and say 'Howdy,'" George suggested. + +There were some ten of them, girls and young fellows about George's own +age. George took off his hat to them all and, with a flourish, presented +Rosie. + +"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you my lady friend, Miss +Rosie O'Brien. Rosie, won't you shake hands with my friend, Mr. +Callahan, and Miss Higgins, and Miss McCarthy, and Miss Mahony, ..." + +Rosie, feeling eighteen years old and perfectly beautiful, went the +rounds to an enchanting chorus of, "Pleased to know you, Miss O'Brien," +"You sweet little thing!" "Excuse me, Miss Rosie, but I must say George +Riley knows how to pick out a pretty girl!..." + +George then presented Janet, and Janet, too, went the rounds, looking +like a sleep-walker with tight-set muscles and staring eyes. + +"And this," concluded George, giving Tom Sullivan a little push, "is +Matt Sullivan's boy. You fellows all know Matt--he's on the East End +run." + +With blinking eyes and a crimson embarrassment that mounted to ears and +scalp, Tom passed about a nerveless, sodden hand. + +After a few more pleasantries, George, gathering together his forces, +flourished his hat and said: "Well, so long, friends! See you later." + +"Weren't they nice!" Rosie remarked enthusiastically, and Janet, in +humble gratitude, said: "That was awful kind of you, Mr. Riley, +introducing Tom and me." + +"Kind nuthin'!" George declared. "Aren't you my friends, I'd like to +know? Aren't all Rosie's friends my friends?" + +Unable to express in words how deeply moved she was by the loftiness and +nobility of this sentiment, Janet could only look at Rosie, sigh +gloomily, and shake her head. + +They ate their little picnic supper as soon as they landed, topped off +with ice-cream, and then, unencumbered with shoe-boxes, sought out the +allurements of sideshows, aerial and subterranean thrillers, and dancing +pavilion. Rosie insisted that they go into nothing that cost over ten +cents. By adopting this principle and making frequent excursions to the +dancing pavilion, which was free, they were so well able to husband +their resources that George's two dollars and Tom Sullivan's fifty cents +carried them through the evening. + +It seemed to Rosie she had never enjoyed so perfect a picnic. All the +thrillers really thrilled. Capitana, the giantess snake-charmer, was +actually a giantess, and the snakes she wound about her fat neck were +fully as long and as spotted and as green as the posters made out. And +so on through everything they tried. + +"I've never had such a good time in my life!" Rosie declared, as they +hurried off to the ten-o'clock boat. + +"Me, too!" gasped Janet in solemn, sepulchral tones. + +Looking at the strained expression of happiness on Janet's face, Rosie +suddenly thought of something new that would fittingly crown the day's +adventures. Out of her own abundance she would give Janet another crumb +that would make her eternally grateful. + +"Say, Jarge," she whispered coaxingly, "will you do something for me?" + +George looked down at her indulgently. "Of course I will. Anything you +want." + +"Well then, listen, Jarge: Will you take Janet all the way home and be +real nice to her and pretend she's your girl and pet her real, real +hard. Nobody ever pets Janet, and she never has a good time except when +she's with me. And I'll take Tom Sullivan." + +George laughed a good-natured "All right," and Rosie, turning around, +said to Janet: "Jarge don't want me any more, do you, Jarge? He wants +you, Janet, don't you, Jarge, want Janet? So will you let Tom Sullivan +take me?" + +"Oh, Rosie!" Janet threw incredulous eyes to heaven and clutched her +hands together in a joy that was serious as grief. + +Rosie pushed her up to George and George, capturing her cold fingers, +drew them through his arm. Then Rosie, glowing all over in virtuous +self-approval, dropped behind with Tom Sullivan. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE LOAN OF A GENTLEMAN FRIEND + + +The wives and mothers, with sleepy, crying children, cluttered up the +lower decks. The young people by some common instinct seemed all to be +drawn to the quiet and moonlight of the upper deck. There Rosie's party +found them, a thousand couples more or less, each couple sitting +somewhat apart from its neighbours, but frightfully close to itself. + +"I suppose they're all engaged," Rosie remarked to Tom Sullivan, and +even in the moonlight Tom blushed furiously. + +George and Janet found the unoccupied half of a deck bench, not too far +from the rail, and Rosie and Tom seated themselves on campstools some +distance behind. They were pretty far in on deck and so could see very +little beyond the backs of the great half circle of couples. But backs, +in their way, are very expressive, and Rosie soon found herself deeply +interested in the romances of which these various backs were soon giving +most unmistakable hints. Every couple that sat down seemed to go through +precisely the same emotional experience. A properly equipped +statistician could soon have reduced the whole thing to a matter of +minutes and seconds. + +Take what would be an average couple: They seat themselves like ordinary +people in their right minds and, for a moment, that is what you suppose +they really are. But only for a moment. Although they may be the only +couple on the bench, almost immediately you see them crowding against +each other as if to make room for a fat lady with a baby. Then to get +more room the man drops his arm--the arm next the girl--over the back of +the bench, where it lies a few moments lifeless and inert. The position +is uncomfortable, evidently, for soon he tries to bring it back. Too +late. The invisible fat lady with the baby has, in the meantime, wedged +the girl right under the man's shoulder, and his arm and hand, in +circling back, circle naturally about her. She, poor little soul, seems +not to know what has happened. Her tired head sinks like a weary +bird--sinks on his breast. She sleeps. At any rate, she looks like it. +Then she wakes. She wakes gradually. Her profile slowly rises and, as it +rises, lo! his descends until--until--Well, you know what always occurs +when his profile meets her profile full-face. + +Every time they saw it happen, Rosie held her breath for a moment, then +murmured: "They must be engaged, too!" + +Tom Sullivan stood it as long as he could, then burst out: "Aw, go on! +You don't have to be engaged to kiss!" + +Rosie looked at him, scandalized and shocked. "Why, Tom Sullivan, how +you talk! You ought to be ashamed o' yourself!" + +"Well, you don't!" Tom insisted doggedly. + +Rosie, drawing herself away from a person of such free-and-easy morals, +returned to the backs of the last couple to see whether their little +drama had completed itself. As she looked, the final act opened. The man +whispered something--from what happened when all the other men had +whispered something, Rosie decided he must be asking the girl if she +were chilly. She, like all others before her, presumably was, for the +man took off half his coat, the half near her, and drew it around her +shoulders. What became of his shirt-sleeved arm, or what, in fact, +thereafter became of the rest of both of them, no mere onlooker could +ever know. The half-coat, raising high its collar, served as an +effectual screen against the gaze of a curious world, and the only thing +left for a student of human nature was to hunt a new couple. + +One of the marvels of a picnic boat is that there are always new +couples. Rosie found one immediately and was already engrossed in it +when Tom Sullivan, clutching her excitedly, cried out: + +"Look! Look! Didn't I tell you!" + +Rosie looked, and what she saw seemed for a moment to make her heart +stop. George Riley and Janet McFadden--think of it! How long the +exhibit had been going on Rosie knew not, but Tom Sullivan had +discovered them just as Janet's profile was rising and George's +descending. In another instant---- + +"There!" shouted Tom Sullivan in triumph. "Didn't I tell you so! Now you +can't say they're engaged!" + +Rosie stood up hurriedly. + +"This is a perfectly horrid boat and I wish I could get off! And I tell +you one thing, Tom Sullivan: I'm going downstairs. I won't stay up here +any longer. It's disgraceful, that's what it is!" + +"Aw, don't go down!" Tom begged. "It's fun up here." + +But Rosie was already started and Tom had to follow. + +"Say, Rosie," he chuckled confidentially over her shoulder as she +climbed down to the next deck, "did you see old Janet? Gee! I bet it was +the first time a fella ever kissed her!" + +Had Rosie seen old Janet? Yes, Rosie had, and the mere thought of the +perfidious creature sent Rosie hot and cold by turns. Oh, to think of +it! After all she had done for Janet out of the innocent kindness of her +heart, to have Janet face about and treat her so! Why, she was nothing +but a thief, a brazen thief!... + +It was true that, in a sense, George did not belong to Rosie: he +belonged to Ellen O'Brien if Ellen would once make up her mind to +possess him; but as between Rosie and Janet he certainly belonged to +Rosie. And Janet knew it, too! And he knew it! Oh, what a weak character +his was, thus to be tempted by the first fair face! Fair face, indeed! +The first ugly face! Yes, ugly! Not even her own mother could call Janet +anything else! + +Rosie found uncomfortable places for herself and Tom among the wives and +mothers who, heavy-eyed and dishevelled, were waiting impatiently to +land. Shining over them was no glamour of moonlight. They were plain, +homely, hard-worked women--exactly what Janet McFadden would be some +day, if George Riley had but sense enough to know it. Rosie picked out +the homeliest of them all and wished she had George down beside her so +that she could say to him: + +"Do you see that woman? Well, that's what your dear Janet's going to +look like when she grows up!" + +Rosie had a mental picture of herself at that same future period, with +golden hair and lovely clothes and heaps and heaps of beautiful jewels. +If she could only give George a glimpse of the great contrast which in a +few years there would be between her and Janet, then he'd feel sorry! +He'd probably get down on his knees and beg her pardon and she, flipping +back some expensive lace from her wrist, would smile at him kindly and +drawl out: + +"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Riley. I never think of you any more. You +know how it is when a person has so many wealthy friends. I'm sorry, but +I got to go now, for my automobile is waiting. Good-bye...." + +But meanwhile the moonlight was still shining on the upper deck and +Rosie felt perfectly sure that, by this time, Janet was tucked away in +George's coat. Rosie stood the suspense as long as she could, then +jumped up to investigate. + +"You wait here for me, Tom," she ordered; "I'll be back in just a +minute." + +She hurried off to the upper deck and, of course, found conditions +exactly as she knew they would be. The only thing that showed above +George's coat collar was the tilted edge of Janet's old black sailor +hat. Rosie stepped up quite close to the guilty pair and cleared her +throat, but they heeded her not. + +"All right!" Rosie warned them in her own mind. "Just keep on and you'll +both be sorry some day!" + +Then she told herself for the fiftieth time what a fool she had been, +and she made a mighty vow never again to loan a gentleman friend to any +one whomsoever. + +When she got back to Tom Sullivan, Tom had a bag of peanuts which he +offered her at once. "You like peanuts, don't you, Rosie? It's my last +nickel, except carfare. Aw, go on, take some." + +Not to seem unfriendly, Rosie accepted a handful. Crunching the shells +between her fingers comforted her a little. It was the sort of treatment +she would like to give some people--at any rate, it was the kind they +deserved. She didn't exactly name the peanuts, but she gave them +initials. To the small ones she gave the initial _J_, to the large ones +G. + +"Do you suppose those two are spoonin' up there yet?" Tom asked finally. + +"What two?" + +"Why, George Riley and Janet." And Tom Sullivan, who was supposed to be +bashful, looked at Rosie with a meaning smile. + +Rosie returned the glance with fire and daggers. "Don't you move your +old chair any closer to me, Tom Sullivan!" + +"Aw, now, Rosie----" Tom began, but Rosie cut him short, for the +landing-bell was sounding and it was time for them to pick up their +disreputable friends. + +George and Janet were all for acting as if nothing unusual had happened, +and Rosie scorned them afresh for the useless hypocrisy. + +The journey home was stupid and unpleasant. The cars were crowded and +people were ill-natured and rude and everything in general was horrid. +The wind kept blowing Rosie's streamers into her eyes until she was +ready to tear them off.... Would they never get home? + +Janet McFadden, her dull black eyes fixed in a dream, heeded nothing. +But at the corner where their ways parted Rosie saw to it that she +heard something. When Janet offered farewells, Rosie called out with +unmistakable emphasis: + +"Good-night, _Tom!_ I've had a very pleasant time with _you!_" + +Like Janet, George Riley seemed to think that everything was as before. +He himself was quiet, with the drowsy languor that follows an evening's +excitement, and he seemed to be attributing Rosie's silence to the same +cause. + +When they got home, Rosie tried to show him his mistake. The gas in the +little hallway was burning low, and George turned it high to light Rosie +upstairs. + +Rosie started off without a word. + +"Aren't you going to kiss me good-night, Rosie?" + +At that Rosie turned slowly about and gazed down upon him with all the +hauteur of an offended queen. "There's just one thing I want to tell +you, Jarge Riley: because you kiss Janet McFadden, you needn't think you +can kiss _any_ girl!" + +"Why, Rosie!" George began. But Rosie was already gone. + +[Illustration: "Because you kiss Janet McFadden, you needn't think you +can kiss _any_ girl."] + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +JANET EXPLAINS + + +By ten o'clock next morning Janet McFadden was at the door asking for +Rosie. Rosie did not, of course, ever care to see Janet again, but as +she had come Rosie could scarcely deny herself. + +She found her one-time friend looking pinched and +worried--conscience-stricken, no doubt--and little wonder. + +"I'm going to the grocery, Janet. Do you want to come with me?" + +Hardly outside the gate, Janet began: "You're not mad at me, Rosie, are +you?" + +"Mad?" Rosie spoke the word as if it were one with which she was +unfamiliar. + +"I didn't think you'd care, Rosie, honest I didn't. I thought you'd +understand." + +"Understand what?" There was a certain coldness in the tone of Rosie's +inquiry, and Janet, feeling it, seemed ready to wring her hands in +despair. + +"Why, Rosie, all we talked about was you--honest it was! Jarge said you +were just like his own little sister to him, and I told him I loved you +more than I would my own sister if I had one." + +"Huh!" Rosie grunted, recalling the tilt of Janet's black sailor hat +over George's shoulder. It had looked then as if they were talking about +her, hadn't it now? + +"Honest, Rosie!" + +"Yes, of course. I suppose now you were talking about me when you----" +Rosie pursed her lips and Janet, understanding her meaning, blushed +guiltily. + +"Aw, now, Rosie, listen: all I wanted was to have Tom Sullivan see." + +"Well, he saw all right. So did I. So did everybody. And it was +disgraceful, too!" + +Janet groped helplessly about for words. "I don't exactly mean on +account of Tom himself." + +"Oh!" + +"Please, Rosie," Janet begged; "don't talk to me that way.... You know +Tom's mother, my Aunt Kitty. You know the way she makes fun of me +because I'm ugly and lanky. She's always saying that I'm an old maid +already and that I'll never get a boy to look at me. So I just wanted +her to hear about a nice fella like Jarge Riley hugging me and kissing +me." + +Rosie looked at Janet in astonishment. She had certainly expected Janet +to make up a better story than that. + +"Well, I must say, Janet McFadden, this is news to me! Since when have +you got so particular about what your Aunt Kitty thinks or doesn't +think? I always supposed she was beneath your contemp'." + +"No, no, Rosie, it isn't that! I don't care what she thinks or what she +says either, if only she wouldn't go blabbing it around everywhere!" +With a sudden gust of passion, Janet clenched her hands and breathed +hard. "Oh, how I hate her!" + +Rosie had nothing to say and, after a pause, Janet continued more +quietly: + +"It's this way, Rosie: You know my old man. He's all right except +sometimes when he comes home not quite himself. You know what I mean." + +Yes, Rosie knew. In fact, like the rest of the world, she knew a great +deal more than Janet supposed about Dave McFadden's drunken abuse of his +wife and child. + +"He's all right when he's straight, Rosie, honest he is." + +Never before had Janet confessed in words, even to Rosie, that her +father wasn't always sober. It was the fiction of life that she +struggled most valiantly to maintain that this same father was the best +and noblest of his kind. Poor Janet! In spite of herself Rosie +experienced a pang of the old pity which thought of Janet's hard life +always excited. But Janet was not striving to appeal to her thus. Slowly +and painfully she was forcing herself to lay bare the little tragedy +that shadowed her days.... + +"When he comes home that way he says awful things to me. He says I got a +face like a horse and arms as long as a monkey's. He'd never think of +things like that if it wasn't for Aunt Kitty. You know he thinks +everything Aunt Kitty says is wonderful because she's supposed to be the +bright one of the family and used to be pretty. And, Rosie, she ain't +got a bit o' sense. All she can do is make people laugh by making fun of +somebody. She never cares how much she hurts any one's feelings. I--I +know I'm ugly, but--can I help it?..." Janet's face was quivering and +her eyes were swimming in tears. "I don't see why Aunt Kitty's got to +talk about it, do you? Even if I am ugly, I guess--I guess I got +feelings like anybody else.... It's only when dad's full that he starts +in on it and begins to yell around until everybody in the building hears +him. And I know just as well he'd never think of it if only Aunt Kitty +would let up on me a little. So I thought---- Oh, you understand now, +don't you, Rosie? That's the reason I did it, honest it is. You believe +me, Rosie, don't you?" + +Believe her? Who wouldn't believe her? Long before she had finished +speaking, the citadel of Rosie's affections had been stormed and retaken +and Rosie, abject and conquered, was ready to cry for mercy. + +"And when I told Jarge Riley about it," Janet continued, "he was just as +nice. He pretended he wanted to kiss me anyhow, but he didn't, Rosie, +honest he didn't. It was only because I was your friend that he wanted +to be nice to me...." + +Of course, of course. At last Rosie was seeing things as they really +were, and seeing them thus made her heartsick when she remembered how +she had spoken to kind old George Riley. How could she ever put herself +right with him?... She would be carrying his supper up to the cars at +six o'clock. There would be only an instant of time, but an instant +would be enough for her to say: "Oh, Jarge, I've just been happy all day +long thinking about the good time you gave me yesterday! Me and Janet +have been talking about it. Thanks, thanks so much!" And George Riley, +if she knew him at all, instead of recalling her foolish words of last +night, would grin all over and gasp out: "Aw, Rosie, that wasn't nuthin' +at all!" That was the sort of fellow George was!... + +"But listen here, Rosie," Janet's voice was continuing in tones of +humble entreaty; "if I'd ha' known it would ha' made you mad, I wouldn't +have asked Jarge Riley--honest I wouldn't. You believe me, don't you, +Rosie?" + +Tears were in Rosie's throat and self-abasement in her heart. Words, +however, came hard. Fortunately she could slip her arm about Janet's +neck in the old sweet, intimate fashion and Janet would understand that +all was well between them. + +"And, Janet dear, are you sure that Tom'll tell his mother?" + +"Yes, I'm sure, because I made him promise not to." + +"Why, Janet!" + +"Sure, Rosie. You see Aunt Kitty'll ask him all about things and he'll +tell about you and how pretty you looked and about Jarge Riley, and then +Aunt Kitty'll begin making fun of me and that'll make Tom mad and he'll +tell Aunt Kitty not to be so sure, and then she'll see he's holding back +something and she'll tease until she gets it out of him.... Oh, Rosie, I +tell you I know her just as well! I can just hear her! And when Tom +tells her how mad you are, that'll make her believe the rest.... But +honestly, Rosie, I didn't know you was mad till Tom told me." + +"Tom!" Rosie was indignant at once. "Do you mean to say Tom Sullivan +told you I was mad? Well, the next time you see Tom Sullivan you tell +him for me to mind his own business!" Rosie paused a moment, then drew +Janet closer to her. "Mad? What's eating Tom Sullivan? Friends like you +and me, Janet, don't get _mad_!" + +And Janet McFadden, shaking her head in horror that any one should even +suggest such a thing, declared emphatically: "Of course not!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +ON SCARS AND BRUISES + + +A few mornings later Rosie was seated on the front steps, shelling peas, +when Janet passed the gate. + +"Aren't you coming in?" Rosie called out. + +At first Janet was not, but on Rosie's second invitation she changed her +mind. As she reached the steps, Rosie discovered the reason of her +hesitation. She had a black eye. She carried it consciously, but with +such dignity, as it were, that Rosie could not at once decide whether +Janet expected her to speak of it, or to accept it without comment. + +Janet herself, after an introductory remark about the weather, broached +the subject. + +"What do you think about the eye I've got on me? Ain't it a beaut?" + +It certainly was, and Rosie expressed emphatic appreciation. + +"And how do you suppose I got it?" Janet pursued. + +"I couldn't guess if I had to!" + +Rosie's answer was tactful, rather than truthful. In her own mind she +had very little doubt whence the black eye had come. But it would never +do to say that she supposed it had been given Janet by her father during +one of the drunken rages to which he was subject. With one's dearest +friend one may be frank almost to brutality, but not on the subject of +that friend's family. There are reserves that even friendship may not +penetrate. So, with an exaggeration of guilelessness, Rosie declared: + +"I couldn't guess if I had to! Honest I couldn't!" + +Janet had her story ready: + +"You know how dark the halls in our building are. Well, I was just going +downstairs, when a boy sneaked up behind me, and pushed me, and I +slipped, and hit my face against the banister. And I think I know who it +was, too!" + +Rosie was by nature too simple and direct to simulate with any great +success the kind of surprise that Janet was forever demanding of her. +Fortunately this time it did not matter, for, while Janet was speaking, +Rosie's mother had appeared with an armful of darning. Unlike Rosie, +Mrs. O'Brien was always in a state of what might be termed chronic +surprise. She paused now before seating herself, to remark in shocked +tones: + +"Why, Janet McFadden, what's this ye're tellin'? Mercy on us, ain't b'ys +just awful sometimes! But I'm thinkin' your da'll soon settle that lad!" + +Janet shook her head violently. + +"Mrs. O'Brien, I wouldn't dare tell my father that boy's name for +anything! My father'd just murder him--honest he would! It just makes my +father crazy when anybody touches me! He ain't responsible, he gets so +mad--really he ain't! So you can see yourself I got to be mighty careful +what I tell him. Besides, I ain't dead sure it was that boy, but I think +it was." + +Mrs. O'Brien's interest in the situation equalled Janet's own. + +"I see exactly the place you're in, Janet, and I must say it's wise, the +stand you take." + +Mrs. O'Brien bit off a strand of darning cotton, and carefully stiffened +the end. + +"You see," Janet continued, "it's this way with me. I'm an only child, +and you know yourself how men act about their only child." + +"I do, indeed, Janet, and I feel for you." From her sympathetic +understanding of Janet's problem, one would never have supposed that +Mrs. O'Brien herself was the mother of a large family, and had been the +child of a larger one. She held up a sock impressively. "You're quite +right, Janet. Your da might do somethin' awful. There's no holdin' back +some men when they take it into their heads that their only child has +been mistreated." + +Rosie sighed inwardly. She had very little of that histrionic sense that +prompts people to assume a part and play it out in all seriousness. At +first such a performance as the present one wearied her. Why in the +world do people pretend a thing when they know perfectly well that they +are pretending? Then, as the moments passed, she grew interested in +spite of herself, for the acting of her mother and Janet was most +convincing. At last she was not quite sure that it was acting. She was +brought back to her senses by Janet's turning suddenly to her with the +exclamation: + +"Ain't they all o' them just awful, anyhow!" + +No need to ask Janet of whom she was speaking. It was an old practice of +hers, this glorifying her father in one breath, and in the next +vilifying men in general. Rosie protested at once: + +"Why are they awful? I think they're nice." + +Janet looked at her in kindly commiseration. + +"Well, then, Rosie, all I got to say is--you don't know 'em." + +"I don't know them! Well, I like that!" Rosie was indignant now. "I +guess I know them as well as you do!" Rosie paused, then concluded in +triumph: "Don't I know my own brother Terry? I guess he's all right!" + +"Terry," Janet repeated, with a significant headshake. "Now I suppose, +Rosie, you think you and Terry are great friends, don't you?" + +"I don't think so; I know so." + +Janet laughed cynically. + +"Yes, I suppose you and him are great friends as long as you run your +legs off for him. But listen to me, Rosie O'Brien! Do you know what he'd +do to you if you was to lose one of his paper customers? He'd beat the +very puddin' out of you! I guess I know!" + +"Janet, you're crazy!" + +"Crazy? All right, Rosie, have it your own way. But I leave it to Mis' +O'Brien if I ain't right." + +That lady, being, as it were, pledged to Janet's support, instead of +vindicating her own son, made the weak admission: + +"Well, I must confess there's somethin' in what Janet says." + +At Janet's departure, Rosie looked at her mother scornfully. + +"Ma, don't you really know how Janet got that black eye?" + +Mrs. O'Brien dropped her darning in surprise. At every turn life seemed +to hold a fresh surprise for Mrs. O'Brien. + +"Why, Rosie! What a question to ask your poor ma! Do I look like I was +born yesterday?" + +Mrs. O'Brien did not; but, even so, Rosie insisted upon a direct answer. + +"Well, then, if you really must know, Rosie dear, I'll be glad to tell +you. That brute of a Dave McFadden has been knockin' her down again." + +Rosie clucked her tongue impatiently. "Maggie O'Brien, there's one thing +I'd like to ask you. When Janet knew how she got that black eye, and you +knew how she got it, and she knew perfectly well that you knew, why in +the world did you both go pretending something else?" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her daughter in patient despair. + +"My, my, Rosie, what a child ye do be! Wouldn't it be awful of me to go +insultin' poor little Janet by saying: 'Ho, ho, Janet, that's a fine +black eye yir da has given you!'" + +Rosie squirmed in exasperation. "But why do you got to say anything? Why +do either of you got to say anything?" + +"Why do I got to say anything?" In Mrs. O'Brien, surprise had now turned +to amazement. "Why, Rosie dear, what's this ye're askin' me? Haven't I +always got to say somethin'? Wasn't it for talkin' purposes that the +Lord put a tongue in me head?" + +"But couldn't you talk about something else besides that black eye?" + +"I could not. Take me word for it, Rosie, that black eye was the one +thing of all to talk about. Don't you see, dear, 'twas that was taking +up Janet's entire attention, for it was on her mind as well as on her +face. So not to make it awkward for the poor child, I simply had to talk +and let her talk." + +Rosie still shook her head obstinately. "Even if it was on her mind, I +don't see why she had to go make up that silly story that nobody +believes, and that she don't believe herself. She always does." + +Mrs. O'Brien's face broke into a smile of understanding. + +"Ah, Rosie, I see now what's troublin' you. You don't see why poor Janet +wants to cover up that brute of a Dave." + +This was exactly what was troubling Rosie, as she agreed readily enough. + +"And, Ma," she continued, "do you suppose if my father beat me, I'd go +around pretending he was the best ever? Well, I wouldn't!" + +"Your poor da, did you say, Rosie? May God forgive you for havin' such a +thought! Why, that poor lamb wouldn't hurt a fly--he's that gentle! Ah, +Rosie, it's on yir knees ye ought to be every night of yir life, +thankin' God for the kind o' father I picked out for you!" + +"I am thankful, but I wouldn't be if he was like Dave McFadden. And I +wouldn't pretend I was, either." + +"Ah, it's little ye know about that, Rosie, for just let me tell +ye--ye'd be exactly like Janet if ye were in Janet's shoes." + +"I bet I wouldn't!" + +"Rosie, ye couldn't help yirself. Ye'd have to stand up for him even if +he was a brute." + +"Why would I have to?" + +"Because he's your da. Is it possible, Rosie dear, that ye don't yet +know 'tis a woman's first duty to stand up for a man if he's her da, or +her brother, or her husband, or her son? Mercy on us, where would we be +if she didn't? Have ye ever heard me, all the years of your life, +breathe a whisper against Jamie O'Brien?" + +"I should think not!" To Rosie this seemed a very poor example of the +principle in question. "How could you? Dad never even beats the boys, +let alone you and me!" + +Mrs. O'Brien smacked her lips pensively. "No, he don't beat me." She +sighed slowly. "I mean _now_ he don't." + +Rosie looked at her mother with startled eyes. "Ma, what do you mean?" + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed again, and took up her darning. "Nuthin' at all, +Rosie. I don't know what I'm sayin'. I can't gab another minute, for I +must finish this sock. So run off, like a good child, and don't bother +me." + +"But, Ma"--Rosie's voice dropped to a whisper, and a look of horror came +into her face--"do you mean he used to--beat you?" + +"Rosie dear, stop pesterin' me with your questions. Far be it from me to +set child against father, and, besides, as you know yourself, he's +behavin' now. What's past is past. I've said this much to you, Rosie, +so's to give you a hint of the ragin' lions that these here quiet, +soft-spoken little lambs of men keep caged up inside o' them. Oh, I tell +you, Rosie dear, beware o' that kind of a man, for you never know when +the lion in him is goin' to break loose and leap out upon you. Ah, I +know what I'm sayin' to me everlastin' sorrow!" + +"Why, Ma, are you crazy! Dad has never laid a finger on you, or on any +one else, and you know he hasn't!" + +Rosie scanned her mother's face in hope of discovering a little family +joke, but Mrs. O'Brien met her gaze with sad, truthful eyes as guileless +as a baby's. + +"All right, Rosie dear, maybe your poor ma is crazy. But I wonder now +ye've never noticed the scar on me right shoulder, nor asked the cause +of it." + +"What scar?" + +"Have you never seen it, Rosie?" + +Mrs. O'Brien began unbuttoning her waist to exhibit the scarred +shoulder. Then she paused, thought a moment, and changed her mind. + +"No. As ye've never noticed it, Rosie, it wouldn't be right of me to +show it to you now. The sight of it might make you bitter. But you +surprise me that you've never seen it. It's a foot long at least, and +two fingers deep, and itches in rainy weather." + +"Why, Ma!" Rose's eyes were fixed, and her mouth a round, blank question +mark. + +"Upon me word of honour, Rosie!" + +For a moment Rosie was too shocked to go on. Then she gasped: "How--how +did it happen?" + +"How did it happen, do you ask? That, Rosie, is a secret that'll go with +me to the grave. This much I'll tell you--'twas made with a +butcher-knife. But who gave the blow, I wouldn't confess under torture. +Now, Rosie dear, don't tempt me to say another word, for I'm done." + +Mrs. O'Brien lifted her head high, took a long breath, and began a +serious attack on the sock. + +Rosie questioned further, but in vain. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE BRUTE AT BAY + + +Her own father!... All afternoon as she went about delivering papers, +Rosie's mind kept going over this amazing revelation. Not for an instant +did she question the truth of it. An exuberance of imagination very +often led her mother to embroider fancifully the details of a story, but +surely not this time. This time that scar, that awful scar, was evidence +enough of what had taken place. + +To think that Rosie had never even suspected that side of her father's +nature! She shuddered at her own innocence. To her, her father had +always seemed all gentleness and meekness. Gentleness and meekness, +indeed! Why, with that raging lion ramping and tearing about inside of +him he was little better than a wolf in sheep's clothing! + +At first Rosie dreaded ever seeing him again. She doubted whether, at +sight of him, she could conceal sufficiently the abhorrence that she +felt. Then she began to want to see him, as one wants to see the animals +in the carnivora building at feeding time. It is a racking experience, +but one likes to go through it. Rosie's final decision was to take one +look at the beast, hear for herself the sound of its roar, then flee it +forever. + +A good time to see Jamie O'Brien was after supper, in the cool of the +evening, when he slipped off his shoes, unloosened his suspenders, and +sat him down in the peace and quiet of the back yard. He had a +broken-down old arm-chair, which he knew how to prop against the ancient +little apple-tree and support with a brick at its shortest leg. For +one-half hour every summer evening, when the old chair was properly +braced, and his sock feet were stretched out at ease on a soap-box, +Jamie O'Brien knew comfort, utter and absolute. It was the moment when, +like old King Cole, he called for his pipe. + +"Rosie dear, like a good child, will you bring me me pipe and a few +matches?" + +Rosie, busied in the kitchen over the supper dishes, always knew just +when this call was coming, and always had her answer ready: "All right, +Dad. Just wait till I dry my hands and I will." + +Tonight she gave the usual answer in the usual cheerful tone, for she +felt that it behooved her to meet deceit with deceit if she was to catch +the beast unaware. So she got Jamie his pipe, and later came out again +and perched on the arm of his chair. + +"Say, Dad," she began. + +She took a peep at him from the corner of her eye. Heaven knows he did +not look fierce. He was a plain, lean, little man, of indeterminate +colouring, with sparse hair, sparser mustache, and faded blue eyes, +that had a patient, far-away look in them. His face was thin and worn, +with lines that betokened years of labour borne steadily and without +complaint. He was a silent man and passed for thoughtful, though +contemplative would better express his cast of mind. He looked at things +and people slowly and quietly, as if considering them carefully before +committing himself. Then, when he spoke, it would be some slight remark, +brief and commonplace. + +When Rosie began: "Say Dad," he waited patiently. After several seconds +had elapsed, he turned his head slightly and said: "Well, Rosie?" + +He gave her a faint smile, and patted her hand affectionately. +Ordinarily, at this place, Rosie would have slipped an arm about his +neck, but tonight she held back. + +"Say, Dad," she opened again, in a coaxing, confidential tone, "did you +have a good run today?" + +The world in general supposes, no doubt, that, to a motorman, one day's +run must be much like any other. Rosie knew better. + +Jamie very deliberately relit his pipe before answering. Then he said: +"Yes, it was all right, Rosie." + +Rosie waited, as she knew from his manner that something more would +finally come. Jamie gazed about thoughtfully, then concluded: "They was +a flat wheel on the rear truck." + +Rosie was all sympathy. "Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry! It must ha' been horrid +riding all day on a flat wheel." + +Jamie took a puff or two, then announced: "I didn't mind it." + +"Well, Dad, did you report it?" + +Jamie scratched his head, as if in an effort to remember, and at last +said: "Sure." + +After a decent interval, Rosie began again: "Say, Dad, what'd you think +of a man who chased his wife with a hatchet?" + +Rosie thought it would be a little indelicate to come right out with +butcher-knife. Hatchet was near enough, anyway. Rosie's idea was that +her father would betray himself by defending the husband. When he did, +she expected to tell him that she knew all. Her imagination did not +carry her beyond this. She was prepared, however, for something +horrible. + +Jamie O'Brien turned his head almost quickly. "With a hatchet, did you +say, Rosie?" + +"Yes, Dad, with a hatchet." + +"That's bad. And is it some one around here that we know?" + +"No, it ain't anybody. I was just saying, what would you think of a man +who did that?" + +"And it ain't some one we know?" + +With a wave of his pipe, Jamie dismissed all hypothetical hatchets, and +returned to the more sensible contemplation of the sky line. + +Rosie felt that she was being trifled with. She gazed at her father +meaningly. + +"Well, what would you say to a man who chased his wife with a +butcher-knife?" + +Again Jamie took an exasperating time to answer, and again his answer +took the form of the question: "Is it some one we know, Rosie?" + +Rosie threw discretion to the winds. "I'm sure you ought to know whether +it's some one we know!" + +Jamie blinked his eyes slowly and thoughtfully. "I don't seem to place +him, Rosie." + +Rosie left him in disgust. Brutality is bad enough, but hypocrisy is +worse. She went as far as the kitchen door, then turned back. She would +give him one more chance. + +Again smiling, she put her arms about his neck. "Say, Dad, if you was to +get awful mad at me, what would you do?" + +"At you, do you say, Rosie? Well, now, I don't see how any one could get +awful mad at you." + +Rosie's patience was about exhausted, but she restrained herself. "But, +Dad, if I was to do something awful bad--steal ten dollars, or run away +from home!" + +Jamie looked at Rosie, then at the sky line, then at the soap-box, then +back at Rosie. Surely now a brutal threat was coming. + +"Why, Rosie dear, I don't think you'd ever do anything like that!" + +Huh! What kind of an answer was that for a father to give his child? +Rosie straightened her back, and without another word departed. She felt +that her worst fears were justified. Any man as difficult to trap as +Jamie O'Brien was a dangerous character. + +She nursed her resentment the rest of the evening. Just before she went +to sleep, however, she decided, as a matter of scrupulous justice, to +suspend final judgment until she should have seen for herself that +damning evidence of his brutality, namely, the scar on her poor mother's +right shoulder. Yes, she would find some excuse for seeing it at once. + +The next morning, while her mother was preparing to go to market, of +itself the opportunity came. + +"Rosie dear," Mrs. O'Brien called down from upstairs, "I need your help. +One of me corset strings is busted." + +Rosie found her mother seated at the bureau, half dressed, fanning +herself with a towel. A full expanse of neck and shoulders was exposed, +so that Rosie, busied at her mother's back, was able to scan minutely +all that there was to scan. She looked and looked again, and by patting +her mother affectionately, was able to add the testimony of touch to +that of sight. + +In due time her mother departed, and Rosie, left alone, turned to the +mirror and gazed into it several moments without speaking. + +"Well!" she said at last. "What do you know about that!" + +She shook her head at the round-eyed person in the mirror, and the +round-eyed person nodded back, as deeply impressed with the +inexplicability of things as Rosie herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +WHAT EVERY LADY WANTS + + +All morning Rosie moved about the house preoccupied and silent, heaving +an occasional sigh, murmuring an occasional "Huh!" + +At dinner she paid scant attention to her mother's market adventures, +and with difficulty heard Terry's orders concerning a new paper +customer. Her mind was too fully occupied with a problem of its own to +be interested in anything else. + +On the whole it was a strange problem, and one that, after hours of +thought, remained unsolved. By mid-afternoon Rosie was ready to cast it +from her in disgust but she found that she could not. Like a bad +conscience, it stayed with her, dogging her steps even on her paper +route. + +It had the effect of colouring everything that she saw or heard. When +she handed a paper to Mrs. Donovan, the policeman's wife, who exclaimed: +"What do you think of the beautiful new hammock that Mr. Donovan has +just gave me?" Rosie remarked in a tone that was almost sarcastic: "Oh, +ain't you lucky!" and to herself she added cynically: "And I'd like to +know who gave you that black-and-blue spot on your arm!" + +She found one of the Misses Grey pale and haggard under the strain of a +hot-weather headache. Rosie forced her unwilling tongue to some +expression of sympathy; but, once on her way, she told her disgruntled +self that what she had wanted to say was: "Well, Miss Grey, I must say, +if I didn't know you was an old maid, I'd ha' taken you for a happy +married woman!" + +Near the end of the route, she found old Danny Agin waiting, as usual, +for his paper. His little blue eyes twinkled Rosie a welcome, and his +jolly cracked voice called out: "How are you today, Rosie?" + +For a moment Rosie gazed at him without speaking. Then she shook her +head, and sighed. + +"You look all right, Danny Agin, just as kind and nice as can be, but I +guess Mis' Agin knows a few things about you!" + +Danny blinked his eyes several times in quick succession. "What's this +ye're sayin', Rosie?" + +"Oh, nuthin'. I was only saying what a nice day it was. Good-bye." + +Rosie started resolutely away, then paused. She really wanted some one +with whom to talk out her perplexity, and here was Danny Agin, a man of +sound sense and quick sympathy, and her own sworn friend and ally. + +Rosie turned back and, seating herself on the porch step at Danny's +feet, looked up into Danny's face. + +"What's troublin' you, Rosie dear?" Danny's tone was kind and invited +confidence. + +Rosie shook her head gloomily. "Danny, I'm just so mixed up that I don't +know where I'm at. You know Janet McFadden? Well----" + +Rosie took a long breath and, beginning at the beginning, gave Danny a +full account of yesterday's discussion. She brought her story down to +that very morning when her mother had called her upstairs to tie the +broken corset string. At this point she paused and sighed, then looked +at Danny long and searchingly. + +"And, Danny, listen here: _There wasn't any scar at all!_ I hunted over +every scrap of both shoulders and I felt 'em, too, and they were just as +round and smooth as a fat baby! And she said: 'A foot long at least and +two fingers deep.' And she even said it itched in rainy weather! Now +what do you know about that?" + +Danny slowly shook out the folds of a large red handkerchief, dropped it +over his head and face, and bowed himself as though in prayer. No sound +came from behind the handkerchief, but Danny's body began to shake +convulsively. Either he was sobbing, or---- + +"Danny Agin, are you laughing?" + +Danny slowly raised his head and, drawing off the handkerchief, began +wiping his eyes. + +"Laughin', is it? Why, it's weepin' I am! Don't you see the tears?" + +Rosie looked at him doubtfully. "I don't see what you're weeping about." + +Danny shook his head mournfully. "It's a way I have, Rosie. A thought +came over me while we was talkin' and off I went. And--and here it comes +again!" + +Danny reached for his handkerchief, but too late. The thought seemed to +hit him full in the stomach, and back he fell into his chair, rolling +and spluttering. + +"Danny Agin, you are laughing!" + +Danny wiped his eyes again. "Perhaps I am this time, Rosie. I'm took +different at different times." + +Rosie frowned on him severely. "Well, I think you were laughing the +first time and you needn't deny it. And, what's more, I don't see +anything to laugh at." + +"Whisht now, darlint, and I'll tell you. I'll talk to you like man to +man. 'Twas thought of the ladies." + +"What ladies?" + +"All o' them. They're all the same." + +"Who are all the same?" + +"The ladies, Rosie. Janet and your ma, and the rest o' them!" + +"Danny, I don't see how you can say that. Ma and Janet are not a bit the +same. They're exactly different. There's ma who's got a kind husband, +and she goes telling that he chases her with a butcher-knife, and +there's Janet whose father is a drunken brute, and she goes pretending +he's the best ever." + +"Precisely, Rosie. You couldn't have expressed it better. Now you'll +understand me when I tell you that they all want the same thing, which +is this: They want to be beat, and they don't want to be beat. Now let +me say it to you again, Rosie: They want to be beat, and they don't want +to be beat. There!" + +Rosie put her hands to her head in distraction. "Danny Agin, I don't +know what you're talking about!" + +"I'm talkin' about the ladies." + +"Well, then, what I want to know is this: How can they want a thing when +they don't want it?" + +It was Danny's turn to look distracted. "Rosie, Rosie, ye'll drive me +mad with yir questions! If I could tell you how they do, I would and +gladly. But I can't. All I can tell you is they do." + +"But, Danny, what sense has a thing like that got? 'They want to be +beat, and they don't want to be beat.' That's exactly like saying: It's +winter and it's summer at the same time. It's not good sense to say a +thing like that." + +"Sense, Rosie?" Danny looked at her reproachfully. "It's not sense I'm +talkin' about. It's not the logic of the ladies I'm impressin' on you, +mind--it's their feelin's. I'm tellin' you the kind o' man every lady's +on the lookout for--a fine brute of a fella that would as soon knock +her down as look at her, and yet would never raise a finger against +her." + +Rosie's hands dropped limply into her lap. "Danny Agin, do you know +sometimes I get so mixed up that I feel just like I was crazy! That's +how I feel now." + +Danny nodded sympathetically. "Small wonder, Rosie. 'They want to be +beat, and they don't want to be beat.' I defy any man to say that over +fifty times and not go mad! And what would you say, Rosie, to a poor man +havin' to live, day in and day out, for forty years with an everlastin' +conthradiction like that? Ah, Mary's a fine woman, but I tell you, +Rosie, in all confidence, I've had me own troubles. Many's the time I've +seen her just achin' for a good sound beatin', but, if ever I'd laid the +tip o' me finger upon her, her heart would ha' broke, and she'd ha' felt +the shame of it the longest day of her life. And they're all the same, +Rosie; take me word for it, they're all the same. They want their +menfolks to be lions, and they want them to be lambs." + +_Lions and lambs!_ Her mother's very words! Upon Rosie the light began +to break. "Why, Danny!" she gasped. + +"Take yir own case, Rosie dear. There's yir own da, a meek lamb of a +man----" + +"But, Danny, I like my father because he's so kind!" + +"Whisht, now, darlint, and listen. Wouldn't it be fine if he was the +size of that sthrappin' polisman, Pete Donovan, with the lump of a +diamond in his shirt front as big as an egg, and a great black mustache +coverin' the red lips of him, and a roar in his voice that'd send the +b'ys a-scatterin' for blocks around!" + +The figure evoked was certainly one of heroic proportions, and Rosie, as +she gazed at it, involuntarily gave a little sigh. + +Danny chuckled. "Ha, ha, Rosie! Ye're like the rest o' them!" + +"No, I'm not, Danny Agin! Honest I'm not! I'm glad my father's kind. I +wouldn't love him if he wasn't, and you needn't think I would!" + +Rosie struggled hard to convince Danny, but in vain. The more she +protested, the louder Danny chuckled. + +"Only think, Rosie dear, the pride in yir heart, if this great brute of +a man, rampin' about like a lion, tearin' to pieces everybody that stood +in his way, in yir own prisence, wee bit of a woman that ye are, should +turn into a tame lamb!" + +"Oh, Danny!" + +In spite of herself, Rosie faced the world with something of the +conscious air of a lion-tamer. Danny's chuckle recalled her to herself, +and she watched him with growing resentment, as he continued: + +"You see, Rosie, it's this way: The worse brute a man is, the greater +glory he brings to the woman that tames him. Rosie, me advice to any +young man that is courtin' a girl is to roar--not to roar at her, mind, +but at everybody else when she's within hearin'. What a fine feelin' it +must give a girl to have a roarin' bull of a young fella come softly up +to her and eat out of her hand! And think of the great game it is to +keep him tame! Rosie, take me word for it, these here soft-spoken men +like yir own poor da and like meself--I take shame to confess it--make a +great mistake. Many's the time it had been better for me peace of mind +afterward had I let out a roar just for appearances' sake. I see it +now." + +Danny wagged his head and sighed. + +"It's lucky for you, Rosie, that you have me to tell you all this, for +ye'd never hear it from the ladies themselves. They never let out a +whisper about it, but carry on just like Janet and yir own ma. Ah, don't +tell me! I know them! They's some kind of a mystic sisterhood among +them--I dunno just what, and in some few things they never give each +other away." + +"Don't they, Danny?" + +"They do not." + +Rosie regarded the old man thoughtfully. One could see the very +processes of a new idea slowly working in her mind. Danny watched her +curiously. At length he asked: "Well, Rosie, what is it?" + +Rosie paused impressively before answering: "I was just thinking, Danny +Agin, that you're right about yourself, but you're making a great +mistake about my father." Rosie nodded significantly. "He's not as quiet +as you think he is, in spite of his quiet ways. Sometimes he's just +awful." + +For a moment Danny was taken in. "Why, Rosie, aren't you just afther +tellin' me about the scar that wasn't there?" + +"Yes, and I'm sorry now I told you." There was a gleam in Rosie's eye +which declared very emphatically that the sequel to that story would +never again be related. "Listen here, Danny Agin! Now I understand--if +my mother made up something about that scar, it was just to hide +something else that was worse!" + +"Why, Rosie! Ye don't say so!" For a moment Danny looked at her in +astonishment. Then he lay back with a wheezy guffaw. "Rosie, ye'll be +the death o' me yet! I suppose if the truth was known, Jamie beats yir +ma every night of her life to a black-and-blue jelly! Don't he now?" + +Rosie covered herself with an air of distant reserve. "I'm not going to +tell you what he does. That's a family matter. But I will say one thing: +You think Terry's awful nice, don't you? Everybody does. But do you know +what he'd do to me if I was to lose one of his paper customers? He'd +just beat the puddin' out o' me--yes, he would!" + +"Why, Rosie!" Danny looked shocked. "What's this ye're sayin'? I +thought you and Terry were great friends." + +"Great friends? Oh, yes, we're great friends all right. You can always +be great friends with a fellow like Terry as long as you run your legs +off for him. But just let something happen, and then----" + +Rosie ended with a "Huh!" and shook her head gloomily. + +Danny gasped. "You don't say so, Rosie!" + +There was the sound of an opening screen, and Danny, knowing that his +wife must be coming, with a wheezy chuckle called out: + +"Mary, Mary, do ye know who's here? It's Rosie O'Brien, and she's one of +ye! She's fallen into line!" + +Mrs. Agin came out on the porch, and stood for a moment looking from +Danny to Rosie. She was a tall, gaunt old woman with thick white hair +and thick eyebrows, which were still dark. She gave one the impression +of great tidiness and cleanliness, together with the possibility of that +caustic speech which so often characterizes the good housekeeper. + +Rosie appealed to her eagerly: "Mis' Agin, I think Danny's just awful!" + +Mrs. Agin glanced sharply at Danny, and then, with a seemingly +clairvoyant understanding that the subject under discussion related +somehow to the eternal war of the sexes, she went over to Rosie's side +at once. + +"What's he been sayin' to you, dear?" + +"He's making fun of me because I told him if I was to lose one of my +paper customers, Terry would beat me. And he would, too!" + +Mrs. Agin turned on Danny severely. "Take shame to yourself, Dan Agin, +to be teasin' Rosie O'Brien!" + +"And listen here, Mis' Agin," Rosie continued. "He's been sayin' just +awful things about us!" + +"About us, Rosie? Do you mean about both of us?" + +"About all of us, Mis' Agin--us ladies." + +Rosie sat up very straight and severe. + +Danny seemed to think the situation amusing, but he was the only one who +did. Mrs. Agin glared at him darkly. + +"Dan Agin, what's this ye've been sayin' to Rosie?" + +Danny continued to shake with silent mirth, so Rosie answered for him: + +"He says what all of us ladies wants is this: We want to be beat, and we +don't want to be beat. Now, isn't that the silliest thing you ever +heard, Mis' Agin? And he says when we marry a brute of a man, we pretend +that he's kind and nice, and when we marry a nice, kind man, we let on +he's a brute." + +"Dan Agin, what do ye mean, puttin' such nonsense into Rosie's head? +Answer me that now!" + +"And listen, Mis' Agin," Rosie went on. "Just because he's that kind of +a man himself, he thinks everybody else is. And they're not! Every one +thinks my father's so quiet and nice, but I guess I know him! Sometimes +he's just awful! And Terry, too! But Danny here, he thinks they're every +one of them just as harmless as he is. I guess he's so scared himself +that that's the reason he tries to make out that other men are, too!" + +Mrs. Agin glared at Danny a moment in silence. Then she spoke: + +"Dan Agin, how dare ye go blastin' the reputation of decent men! There +are others like ye, do ye say? There are not! There's not another woman +in Ameriky that's stood what I've stood for forty years! Ah, many's the +time it was just one black murtherin' look I was cravin' from ye to bear +out me story that I had married a man, instead of a joke! And did ever I +get it from ye, Dan Agin! I did not--bad cess to ye for a soft-hearted, +good-for-nuthin' of a man that'd let a woman thrample ye in the dust if +she wanted to! 'Twas yir luck that ye little deserved to marry a decent, +quiet woman like meself!" + +"Ye're right, Mary!" Danny murmured meekly. "Ye're a fine woman!" + +"Hold yir tongue, Dan Agin, or, cripple that ye are, I'll be givin' you +the lickin' that I've wanted to give you these forty years every time +ye've let me have me own way when I oughtn't have had it!" + +Rosie stood up to go. "I have one more paper to deliver, Mis' Agin, so +I'll have to say good-bye. If Terry was to know that I stopped to talk +before I had delivered all my papers, he'd beat me half to death." + +Mrs. Agin smiled on her affectionately. "Good-bye, Rosie dear. And mind, +now, if ever again Danny goes talkin' such nonsense, ye're to call me, +and I'll soon settle him. Now run along, or that brute of a Terry'll be +after you." + +"Good-bye, Rosie," Danny called out, in a tone of hypocritical meekness +that made Rosie's blood boil anew. + +Rosie stopped and turned about to give him the look of scorn that he +deserved. + +"Danny Agin, you just ought to be ashamed o' yourself the way you treat +poor Mis' Agin!" + +"I am, Rosie," Danny gasped in a voice of mock tears exasperating beyond +words. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +ROSIE PROMISES TO BE GOOD + + +Rosie hurried away, furious at Danny, and furious also at her own +father. Any man who puts his womenfolk to such shame ought to be choked! +In spite of certain drawbacks, Janet McFadden's lot was happier than +Mrs. Agin's, or than Rosie's own. At least no one ever called into +question Dave McFadden's ability to govern his own household. This was +so patent to the world at large that Janet could actually go about +pretending that her father was a sentimental weakling. Happy, happy +Janet! + +It made Rosie shudder in self-disgust to think of the many damning +admissions that she had made Janet. Well, at any rate, she would never +again be caught. She had learned a thing or two since yesterday. +Moreover, she would lose no time in setting Janet right. She would stop +to see Janet now on her way home. That scar story would make Janet open +her eyes! And Rosie would not foolishly situate it on a spot as easy of +detection as her mother's right shoulder. Nev-er! + +A woman who was sweeping the steps in front of the tenement where the +McFaddens lived, made the friendly inquiry: "Lookin' for Janet?" + +Rosie nodded. + +"Better not go up," the woman advised. "Dave McFadden's just come in +soused again." + +Rosie paused. + +"Is he beating Janet?" + +"No, I don't think so. Janet knows pretty well how to take care of +herself. Gee, you ought to see her dodge him! She's a wonder! He +wouldn't ha' caught her last time if she hadn't slipped." + +Rosie started on, and the woman called after her: "I tell you, you +better not go up! Dave sure is out lookin' for trouble!" + +The warning was a kindly one, but Rosie saw no reason for accepting it. +The truth was that, in her present mood of resentment against the Danny +Agins and Jamie O'Briens of life, she felt that it would be a relief to +see a man who was confessedly out looking for trouble. + +The McFaddens lived on the fourth floor back. Their door was open, so +Rosie could hear that something was going on as she climbed the third +flight of stairs. When she reached the top, her courage faltered. Had +the McFadden door been closed, very probably she could not have forced +herself to knock; but, as it was open, if she slipped along the dark +hall quietly, she could take a peep inside before announcing herself. + +"Daddy!" she heard cried out suddenly. It was Janet's voice. "My arm! +You're hurting me! Please let go! I'll be good!" + +"Arguin' with your own father, eh?" Dave's thick voice boomed and +rumbled. "Well, I'll learn you a lesson!" + +"But, Daddy," Janet coaxed; "wait a minute! The door's open! Please let +me shut it! Some one will hear us! Please let go of me just a minute!" + +Then, just as Rosie reached the door, there was a scuffle inside, and +Janet must have escaped her father's clutches, for instantly the door +slammed. It slammed so nearly into Rosie's face that, with a gasp, she +turned and fled. Down the three flights of stairs she ran, past the +woman on the front steps without a word, and on to the safety of home as +fast as her panting heart could carry her. There, spent and breathless, +she murmured to herself: + +"Well, anyhow, I'm mighty glad it ain't me, 'cause I can't dodge worth a +cent!" + + * * * * * + +That night after supper, while Rosie was washing dishes, when Jamie +O'Brien called: "Rosie dear, like a good child, will ye bring me me pipe +and a few matches?" Rosie sang out in tones positively vibrating with +feeling: "Yes, Daddy darling, I will! I'll bring them this very minute!" + +Later she perched herself on the side of her father's chair, and put an +arm about his neck. + +"Good old Daddy! Did you have a good run today, dearie?" + +Jamie sucked his pipe hard and, after thinking a while, answered: +"Pretty good." + +"And, Daddy dear, did they take off that car that had a flat wheel?" + +This was a question that required considerable deliberation. Rosie +waited, and at last had her reward. + +"Sure they did." + +"Oh, Daddy!" Rosie hugged him suddenly, and kissed his thin, leathery +cheek. "I just love you so much! I wouldn't change you for any other +father in the world!" + +After getting the full purport of this declaration, Jamie remarked: +"That's good!" + +Rosie slipped impulsively from the arm of the chair into Jamie's lap. It +was not a comfortable arrangement for Jamie, but he was a patient soul, +and made no outcry. + +Rosie snuggled up to him affectionately. "Say, Daddy," she whispered, +"if I was awful bad, what would you do to me? Wouldn't you just beat +me?" + +Jamie relit his pipe, took one puff, examined the sky line, then shook +his head knowingly: "I would that! But, Rosie dear, you mustn't be bad, +you know." + +Rosie took a long, shivery breath. "Oh, Daddy, please don't beat me! +I'll be good, honest I will!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +ON THE CULTURE OF BABIES + + +Midsummer came and with it a great suffocating blanket of heat which +brought prostration to the world at large and to little Rosie O'Brien a +new care and a great anxiety. + +"I don't mind about myself," she murmured one breathless sultry morning +as she served George Riley his late breakfast. Even George, who paid +scant attention to weather, looked worn and pale. + +Rosie sat down opposite him as he began eating and stared at him out of +eyes that were very sad and very serious. + +"It's Geraldine, Jarge. I don't know what I'm going to do. The poor +birdie was awake nearly all night. I hope you didn't hear us. I don't +want to disturb you, too." + +George shook his head. "Oh, I slept all right. I always do. But it was +so blamed hot that when I got up I felt weak as a cat." He bolted a +knifeful of fried potatoes, then asked: "What's ailing Geraldine? Ain't +her food agreeing with her?" + +Rosie sighed. It was the sigh of a little mother who had been asking +herself that same question over and over. "It's partly that; but I +think the food would be all right if only other things were all right. +You're a man, Jarge, so you don't understand about babies. It's +Geraldine's second summer and she's teething. Her poor little mouth's +all swollen and feverish. It would be bad enough in cold weather, but in +this heat she hardly gets a wink of sleep.... I tell you, Jarge, if we +don't do something for her real quick, she's just going to die!" Rosie +dropped her head on the table and wept. + +"Aw, now, 'tain't that bad, is it, Rosie?" + +"Yes." The answer came muffled in tears. "It's just awful, Jarge, the +way they go down. They'll be perfectly well, and then before you know +what's happening they just wilt, and you can't do anything for them. And +if Geraldine dies, I--I want to die too!" + +"Aw, Rosie, cheer up! She ain't going to die!" George's words were brave +but his face was troubled. "I suppose, now, if she was only in the +country, she'd be all right, wouldn't she?" + +Rosie wiped her eyes and sighed. "Is it cool in the country, Jarge?" + +[Illustration: Rosie stared at him out of eyes that were very sad and +very serious.] + +"You bet it is--just as cool and nice! The grass is green and wind's +always a-blowin' in the trees and you can hear the gurgle of the creek +down at the bottom of the meadow. And at night you can sleep on the big +upstairs porch, if you want to, and you always get a breeze up there. +And you needn't be afraid of mosquitoes and flies, either, 'cause mother +always has things screened in with black mosquito-netting. Oh, I tell +you it's just fine in the country!" + +George paused a moment, then laughed a little apologetically. +"Leastways, Rosie, that's how I always think of the country now. Of +course we do have sizzling weather out there just as much as we do here; +but it's different, somehow. Out there you get a chance to cool off. +They ain't them ever-lasting paved streets all around you, sending out +heat like a furnace night and day just the same.... Do you know, I ain't +felt like myself for three weeks! If I was back home now I tell you what +I'd do: I'd go down to the creek and take a dip and then I'd come in +and, by gosh, maybe I wouldn't sleep!" + +Rosie sighed again. "Well, no use talking about the country. It's the +city for ours, even if Geraldine does die." + +Tears again threatened and George hastened to give the comforting +assurance: "Aw, now, Rosie, it ain't that bad, I know it ain't. Besides, +this weather can't keep up forever. We'll be having a thunderstorm any +time now, and that'll cool things off." Then, to change the subject: +"What does your mother say about Geraldine?" + +"Pooh!" Rosie tossed her head in fine scorn. "I'd like to know what my +mother knows about babies!" + +George protested. "She ought to know something. She's had a few +herself." + +"Jarge Riley, you listen to me." Rosie looked at him fixedly. "With some +women, having babies don't mean one blessed thing! They just have 'em +and have 'em and have 'em, and that's all they know about them. Take me, +now, and I'm twelve, and take ma, and I don't know how old she is, but +she has had eight children, so you can judge for yourself, and right now +she's so ignur'nt about the proper care and feeding of babies that I +wouldn't dare trust Geraldine to her alone for twenty-four hours!" + +Rosie paused impressively, then concluded with the damning statement: +"All the time she was taking care of that baby she never once boiled a +nipple! Never once!" + +George blinked his eyes in puzzled thought. "Do you got to boil 'em?" + +For a moment Rosie glared unspeakable things. Then she answered with +crushing emphasis: "You certainly do!" + +George moved uneasily. "No hard feelings, Rosie. I was just askin'." + +Rosie was magnanimous. "I'm not blaming you, Jarge. You're a man and not +supposed to understand about sterilizing. But I do say it's disgraceful +in a mother of eight.... Why, do you know what ma was feeding Geraldine +when I took hold of her? Nothing but that old-fashioned baby-food that +nobody but ignur'nt people use now. It's the first thing they hand out +to you at the drug-store, if you don't know the difference. It makes +babies fat but it don't give them one bit of strength, and people like +ma suppose if a baby's fat, of course, it's all right. Oh, such +ignur'nce!" Rosie sighed wearily and cast long-suffering eyes to heaven. + +Balancing a conciliatory knife on his finger, George appealed to her as +man to man: "Now, Rosie, see here: I'm not saying that you don't know +all about babies, 'cause I think you do. I know the way you been finding +out things at the Little Mothers' Class and I know the way you study +that book. But facts is facts, Rosie, and after all, your ma has raised +five kids out of eight, and that ain't so bad." + +"Go on." Rosie looked at him challengingly. + +George had no more to say. + +Rosie had. "Jarge Riley, you know as much about babies as a rabbit! +Don't you know that Geraldine is a bottle-baby?" + +An expression of helpless wonderment spread over George's face. "Why, +Rosie, ain't they all bottle-babies? Seems to me I always seen 'em give +bottles to all of 'em." + +"All of them bottle-babies! Jarge, you're more ignur'nt than I supposed. +Why, every last baby my mother's had except Geraldine has been a +breast-baby!" + +The pink of an unexpected embarrassment mounted to George's shiny +cheekbones. + +Rosie surveyed him critically. "I suppose, now that you come to think +about it, it seems to you they must all be breast-babies, too. Tell me, +ain't that so?" + +"Search me if it ain't!" George spoke in candid bewilderment. + +"That just shows how much you know and yet you're willing to sit there +and argue with me. Now I suppose you think it takes as much brains to +raise a breast-baby as a bottle-baby." There was a question in Rosie's +tone but George, breathing hard, had no opinion to hazard. After a +moment of impressive silence, Rosie continued: "Any ordinary, ignur'nt, +healthy woman, with lots of good milk, can raise a baby, but when it +comes to bottle-feeding----" + +Rosie broke off suddenly and her face took on the expression of a +listening mother. + +"Rosie! Rosie!" Mrs. O'Brien's voice called. "Geraldine's awake and is +crying for you." + +Rosie paused long enough to say, in parting: "There's lots more I could +tell you, Jarge, if I had time." + +"Oh, don't mind me, Rosie. Just run along. I'm sure Geraldine needs +you." George spoke with a certain relief. The weight of the new +knowledge that Rosie had already imposed upon him seemed as much as he +could bear for the present. + +Rosie left him. She felt cheered and comforted, as talking out her +troubles with George always cheered and comforted her. Dear old George! +Rosie didn't know what she would do without him. + +It was well that she had the consciousness of his friendly interest to +support her, for the day was to prove a trying one. Not a breath of air +stirred, and Geraldine, languid and feverish, tossed and fretted +unceasingly. Ordinarily Rosie could have given her whole attention to +the ailing baby, but today she had to take her mother's place as cook +for dinner, since a large family washing required all of Mrs. O'Brien's +time and strength. If Geraldine would only have fallen off to sleep, +Rosie could have managed simply enough; but the poor child could not +sleep. So Rosie spent a frantic morning running back and forth between +kitchen and front room. + +"Why, Rosie, what ails you? You're not eating a bite," her father +remarked during dinner. + +"It's too hot to eat," Rosie murmured. + +"Give me your meat!" Jack cried out. "Please, Rosie!" + +Without a word, Rosie passed him her plate. + +In mid-afternoon, when it was time for Rosie to go about her business of +delivering papers, she entrusted the care of Geraldine to Janet +McFadden. For several days now she had been employing Janet for this +duty. Out of her own earnings she was paying Janet two cents a day, and +she did not grudge the money. Janet was the one person to whom she was +willing to entrust Geraldine at this critical time. Janet knew as much +about babies as Rosie herself, for she had gone to the Little Mother +classes with Rosie and had faithfully studied the book. So Rosie started +out with the feeling that she need not hurry back. + +She loitered along slowly; after the rush of home it was good to loiter. +Even the blazing sun was restful compared with home and its unending +demands. Rosie covered the ground at snail's pace, resting at the least +provocation of shade, and stopping to look at the least hint of anything +happening or likely to happen. + +It was five o'clock when she reached home again, and time to give +Geraldine her afternoon bath. Mrs. O'Brien was still at the +ironing-board and Rosie had to shift clothes-horses to find a place on +the floor for the big basin. + +"Ah, now, and ain't Rosie the kind sister to be giving Geraldine a nice +bath!" Mrs. O'Brien began in her usual tone and manner. "Your poor ma +wishes there was some one to give her a nice bath!" She rambled on while +Rosie splashed Geraldine and then began wrapping her in a towel. + +"I wouldn't moind it so much if only it cooled off of nights." Mrs. +O'Brien wiped her moist face with her apron, and sighed. "It's played +out I am, Rosie. I can't stand another minute." She took a long, +uncertain breath and dropped heavily into a chair. + +Rosie, with Geraldine in her arms, paused in the doorway. She, too, +wanted to escape from the hot kitchen, but something in her mother's +tone held her. + +Mrs. O'Brien swayed listlessly in her chair. "It's sick at me stomach +I'm feelin'. The smell o' the kitchen goes agin' me.... Rosie dear----" +Mrs. O'Brien broke off to look at Rosie a moment in silent appeal. +"Rosie dear, do ye think just for tonight ye could cook the supper for +me? I hate to ask you--I do that, for ye've had a hard day of it with +poor wee Geraldine fretting her life away. And I'm not forgetting that +ye helped me this noon. I wouldn't be asking another thing of you today +if I could help it, but I'm clean tuckered out ironin' them last +shirt-waists for Ellen, and I tell ye, Rosie, I feel like I'd faint if I +thried to stand up in front of that stove." + +Tears of self-pity came to Rosie's eyes and she wanted to cry out: "And +what about me? Don't you suppose I'm tired, too?" But the sight of her +mother's face going suddenly pale and of her hands beginning to shake, +checked her, and she said, quietly enough: "All right, Ma, I will. You +take Geraldine and go out in front. Maybe it's a little cooler there." + +Mrs. O'Brien started off, murmuring gratefully: "Ah, Rosie dear, ye're a +darlint and I don't know what I'd do without you!" + +Rosie, left to herself, instead of taking comfort at thought of her own +nobility of conduct, leaned miserably against the kitchen door and burst +into tears.... "I don't see why I always got to do all the disagreeable +things in this house, and I always do got to, too! I--I--I'm tired, I +am!" + +She sobbed on awhile brokenly, then slowly dried her eyes, for it was +half-past five and time to set to work for supper. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +CRAZY WITH THE HEAT + + +Rosie was spoken of in the family as a good cook, but this afternoon +there was so little of any housewifely pride left in her that she fried +the potatoes as carelessly as Ellen would have fried them, and she +scorched the ham. She set the table after some fashion, and then, when +all was ready, went through the house calling, "Supper's ready! Supper's +ready!" + +As the family straggled in, Rosie went on to her next duty of putting +George Riley's supper into a tin pail. + +"Better hurry," Terence warned her. "You'll be missing Jarge's car." + +"I can't hurry any faster," Rosie murmured; but she did, nevertheless, +snatch up the pail and start off. + +It seemed to her the street was even hotter and more breathless than the +smoky kitchen. The late afternoon sun was still beating down on +pavements and houses and people, fiercely, unceasingly, as it had been +since early morning, and all things alike looked worn and dusty and +utterly fatigued. Little shop-girls were trailing listlessly home, their +hats crooked, their black waists limp with perspiration, their hair +hanging about their pale faces in shiny, damp strings. Yet, tired as +they were, they were still attempting forlorn, giggly little jokes and +friendly greetings. + +One girl called out in passing: "Gee, Rosie, ain't this the limit?" +Another asked facetiously: "Well, kid, how does this weather suit you?" +and a third stopped her to exclaim breathlessly: "Say, Rosie, ain't you +just crazy with the heat!" + +Rosie reached the corner in good time for George's car. There was a +slight congestion in traffic and George had a moment or two before +dashing back to his place on the rear platform. He looked dirty and hot. +His collar was in a soft welt, his face streaked with dust and +perspiration. His expression, usually good-natured, was gloomy and +irritable. + +"What you got tonight?" he asked, lifting the lid of the pail. "What! +Ham again? Ham! What do you think I am? It's ham, ham, ham, every night +of the week till I'm sick and tired of it! Here! Take it back--I don't +want it! I'll buy me something decent to eat!" + +"Why, Jarge!" Rosie had never heard him talk that way before. She hadn't +supposed he could talk that way to her. The unexpectedness of it was +like a blow. For the first time in their acquaintance she shrank from +him. Her face quivered, her eyes filled with tears. "Why, Jarge!" she +stammered again. + +The motorman of George's car sounded his gong in warning and George, +without another word, dropped the pail at Rosie's feet and jumped +aboard. + +Rosie, dazed and crushed, stood where she was until the car disappeared. +At first she was too hurt to cry out; too surprised by the suddenness of +the attack to formulate her protest in words. One thing only was clear, +namely, that George Riley had failed her. She could never again believe +in him blindly, implicitly, as heretofore. There she had been supposing +him so much better than any one else, and he wasn't at all. Probably he +wasn't as good!... One little corner of her heart pleaded for him, +whispering that poor George must have forgotten himself for the moment +because, like the rest of the world, he was crazy with the heat. But +Rosie silenced the whisper by exclaiming passionately: "Even if he was, +I don't see why he had to go and take it out on me! I'm sure I'm not to +blame!" + +After a pause her heart again sought weakly to excuse him by suggesting +that perhaps Mrs. O'Brien did serve fried ham with a certain monotonous +regularity. Rosie was not to be taken in by that. "Well," she demanded +grimly, "what does he expect on a five-dollar-a-week board, with meat +the price it is! Lamb chops and porterhouse steak?" After that her heart +said nothing more, realizing, apparently, that so long as Rosie cared to +nurse her grievance, she could find reasons in plenty. And Rosie did +care to nurse it, and by the act of nursing soon changed it from a +feeling of bewildered woe to one of mounting indignation.... If George +Riley wanted to act that way, very well, let him do so. But he better +not think that she, Rosie O'Brien, would stand for any such treatment, +for she just wouldn't! + +At home she was able to explain quietly enough that George hadn't wanted +any supper. Jack at once called out: "Give me his ham! Aw, please, now, +Rosie, give it to me! Give it to me!" + +"No, Jackie, you're too little to have meat at supper," Rosie explained. +"This is for Terry. Here, Terry." + +Terence accepted the windfall with a gallant, "Thanks, Rosie." Then he +added: "But don't you want a piece of it yourself?" + +"No, Terry, I'm not hungry. Besides, ma has saved me a little piece." + +"And here it is, ye poor lamb." Mrs. O'Brien touched her affectionately +on the cheek. "Sit right down and eat it before Geraldine wakes. Ye've +hardly had a bite all day." + +Rosie took her place at the table and tried to eat. It was no use; and +suddenly, as much to her own surprise as to the others', she burst out +crying. + +"Mercy on us!" Mrs. O'Brien threw up astonished hands. "What's happened +now?" + +"N-nothing," Rosie quavered, pushing her plate away and dropping her +head upon the table. + +"What's ailin' you, Rosie?" her father asked gently. + +"E-E-Ellen's got to do the dishes tonight. I-I-I'm too tired." + +"I'm awful sorry," Ellen began, "but tonight, Rosie, I got to go out +early. I got to go over to Hattie Graydon's for a note-book." + +"Note-book nuthin'!" Terence glared at Ellen angrily. "That's the way +you get out of everything, with your note-books and your Hattie Graydons +and your old business college! Listen here, Ellen O'Brien: you'll do +those dishes tonight or I'll know why!" + +"Huh!" snorted Ellen. "From the way you talk, a person would suppose you +were my father." + +"Wish I was your father for ten minutes--long enough to give you a good +beatin'!... Who do you think you are, anyway? A real live lady? +Everybody else in the family's got to work, but not you!" + +"Ah, now, Terry," Mrs. O'Brien expostulated, "you mustn't be talkin' +that way to your poor sister Ellen. She's got her own work to do at +school and I'm sure it's hard work, ain't it, Ellen dear?" + +"Say, Ma, you fade away!" Terence waved his hand suggestively. "What you +don't know about Ellen's a-plenty! Just look at her, the big lazy lump! +There she's been sitting in a comfortable cool room all day long with a +fan in one hand and a pencil in the other and her mouth full of +chewing-gum, pretending to study, and you and Rosie have been up here +in this hot little hole working like niggers. Aw, why do you let her +fool you? Why don't you make her do something?" + +Ellen, her head tossed high, appealed to her mother. "Ma, will you +please explain to Mr. Terence O'Brien that I'd be perfectly willing to +wash and wipe the dishes every night of my life if it wasn't for my +hands. If ever I'm to be a stenog, I've got to take care of my hands." + +"What about Rosie's hands?" Reaching over, Terence drew one out from +beneath Rosie's face and held it up. At that moment it was a pathetic +little hand, shaken by sobs and wet with tears, but its roughened skin +and short, stubby nails were evidence enough of the work that it did. + +"Well, what about them?" Ellen, at least, was unmoved by the exhibit. +"Rosie's not going to be a stenog, is she?" + +Terence almost choked in fury, but before he could find an answer +sufficiently crushing, his father spoke. + +"See here, Ellen, we've had talk enough. You'll be doing the dishes +tonight before you go after the note-book. That ends it." + +"Very well!" Ellen flounced out of the room, then flounced back. "But if +I don't get my certificate next month, you'll know whose fault it is!" + +"Ain't she the limit?" Terry addressed his inquiry to the gas-jet, and +small Jack, taking up the word, called after her: "Ellen, you're the +limit! You're the limit!" + +"Fie on you, Jackie!" Mrs. O'Brien said reprovingly. "You mustn't be +talkin' that way to your sister." + +But Jack, hopping about the kitchen like mad, kept shouting, "You're the +limit! You're the limit!" until there was a sudden wail from the front +of the house. + +"Now see what ye've done, ye naughty b'y! Ye've waked up Geraldine!" + +Jack subsided abruptly and Rosie, with a sigh, stood up. + +Her mother looked at her compassionately. "Sit where you are, Rosie +dear, and rest, and I'll take care of Geraldine." + +"No, I'll go." + +Rosie carried the child outside to the little front porch, where she +rocked and crooned in the gathering darkness until Geraldine grew quiet. +Then she put her to bed and later, at the proper time, gave her a last +bottle. After that Rosie's day was done. + +To be near Geraldine, Rosie was sleeping downstairs for the present, on +the floor of the front room. Just as George Riley got home she was ready +to retire. + +"Good-night, everybody," she said. + +George, looking a little sheepish, called after her: "Aren't you going +to kiss me good-night, Rosie?" + +Without turning back, Rosie made answer: "It's too hot to kiss." Then +she told herself grimly: "There, now! I guess that'll jar him! If he +thinks he can treat me like a nigger and then kiss me good-night, he's +mightily mistaken." She closed the door of the room with a determined +click and stood for a moment with her head high. Then she sank to the +floor, a very miserable little heap of a girl who sobbed to herself: +"But I wish he wasn't so mean to me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +A FEVERED WORLD + + +It was a sultry, oppressive night, hard enough for adults to endure and +fearfully weakening to teething babies. The next day the heat continued +and Geraldine fretted and drooped until Rosie was frantic with anxiety. + +"Rosie dear, you're all pale and thin," her mother remarked, and Janet +McFadden, looking at her affectionately, said: "Now, Rosie, why don't +you let me deliver your papers for a couple of days? You're fagged out." + +"No," Rosie said. "If you'll keep on coming over in the afternoon while +I'm away, that's help enough." + +"But, Rosie, I could do your papers easy enough. I know all your +customers." + +"'Tain't that, Janet. Of course, you know them. And I thank you for +offering, for it sure is the hottest time of the day. But it's my only +chance to get away from home for a little while and I think I'd just die +if I didn't go." + +So she went, as usual, though her feet dragged heavily and her eyes +throbbed with a dull headache. + +On the better streets the houses were tight shut to keep out the heat; +but the doors and windows of the tenements were open, and Rosie could +see the inside of untidy rooms where lackadaisical women lounged about +and dirty, whiny children played and wrangled. Hitherto Rosie's thrifty +little soul had sat in hard judgment on the inefficient +tenement-dwellers, but today she looked at them with a sudden +tenderness. + +Poor souls, perhaps if all were known they would not be altogether to +blame. Perhaps they, too, had once longed to give their babies the +chance of life that all babies should have. Perhaps it was their failure +in this, through poverty and ignorance, that was the real cause of their +apathy and indifference. Rosie felt that she was almost going that way +herself. Then, too, the husbands of many of these women were selfish and +brutal; and surely it was enough to break a woman's spirit to have the +man she had loved and trusted turn on her like a fiend. Rosie knew! + +Not that she herself was angry any longer with George Riley. Goodness, +no! It wasn't a question of anger. She simply had no feeling for him one +way or another. How could she, when it was as if the part of her heart +he had once occupied had been cut out of her with a big, bloody knife! +She merely regarded him now as she would any stranger. She would be +polite to him--she tried always to be polite to every one--polite, yes; +but nothing more. So when she handed him his supper-pail that evening +at the corner, she said, "Good-evening." Common politeness required that +much, but she did not feel that it required her to hear or to understand +his plaintive, "Aw, now, Rosie!" as she turned from him. + +No! Without doubt all that should ever again pass between them was, +"Good-morning" or "Good-evening." And it was all right that it should be +so. She wouldn't have it otherwise if she could. She told herself this +as she walked home, repeating it so often that she quite persuaded +herself of its truth. Yet, when Terry happened upon her unexpectedly a +few moments later, he looked at her in surprise. + +"What's the matter, Rosie? What you cryin' about?" + +"N-nuthin'," Rosie quavered. "I--I guess I'm worried about Geraldine." + +"Aw, don't you worry about Geraldine," Terry advised kindly. "This +weather's got to break soon and then Geraldine'll be all right." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE STORM + + +Terry was right. The change came the very next afternoon. Rosie had +finished her papers and was on her way home when suddenly the wind rose +and great masses of black storm-clouds came driving across the sky. +Thunder rumbled, lightning crackled, and in a few minutes rain came +swishing down in great long, splashy drops. + +Instead of running for shelter, Rosie obeyed the impulse of the moment +and stood where she was. She clutched a lamp-post to keep from being +blown away, and then, turning her face to the sky, let the sweet, +comforting rain wash down upon her and soak her through and through. + +It was like a great, cool, refreshing shower-bath: it washed the dusty +earth clean once again; it brought back a crispness to the air; it +loosened the nervous tension under which all living things had been +straining for days. + +The clouds broke as suddenly, almost, as they had gathered. Watching +them, Rosie sighed and shivered. "Oh, but that was nice!" Her hair was +plastered over her head in loose, wet little ringlets, and her clothes +hung tightly about her body. When she walked, her old shoes oozed and +gurgled with water. She hurried home; yes, actually hurried, for it was +cool enough to hurry; and besides, her wet clothes were beginning to +chill her. + +Janet McFadden met her with shining eyes. "Oh, Rosie, what do you think? +She's asleep! And she's just took her bottle, too--all of it, without +waking up! Oh, I'm so happy!" + +Rosie looked at Janet affectionately. "You've been awful good, Janet, +helping me this way." + +"Good--nuthin'!" Janet scoffed. "Aren't you paying me good money?... +But, Rosie, listen here about Geraldine: I wouldn't be a bit surprised +if things'd be all right now. Those old teeth are certainly through. I +let her bite my finger on both sides, just to see." + +Perhaps Janet was right. Perhaps things were arranging themselves. +Rosie's heart sang a tremulous little song of happiness as she rubbed +herself dry and put on fresh clothes. The world wasn't such a bad place +after all, and the people in it weren't so bad, either. There was +Janet--good, kind Janet--and Terry, and nice old George Riley--Rosie +stopped short to scowl at herself in amazement. Then she repeated, +defiantly, _nice old George Riley_. For he _was_ nice! And he always had +been nice, too! What if he had forgotten himself once? Hadn't other +people as well? Hadn't everybody, Rosie herself included, been crazy +with the heat? + +As Rosie looked at things now her only surprise was that George hadn't +forgotten himself oftener! Come to think of it, he had kept his temper +better than any one else in the family.... Dear old George! Rosie wanted +to put her arms about his neck that instant and tell him how much she +loved him. + +Her first way of doing this was by saying to him as she handed him his +supper-pail at six o'clock: "Oh, Jarge, what do you think? Geraldine's +been asleep all afternoon!" This was a greeting very different from a +cold, "Good-evening, Jarge," and George would understand the difference. + +He did. His face beamed with understanding. "I'm awful glad, Rosie; +honest I am!" Then as he ran back to his car he called out: "Rosie, wait +up for me tonight. I've got something to tell you--something fine!" + +"All right, Jarge, I will!" Rosie spoke with all her old-time +enthusiasm, and waved him a frantic farewell. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A CHANCE FOR GERALDINE + + +After finishing her household duties and preparing Geraldine's last +bottle, Rosie had nothing more to do but to enjoy the cool of the +evening with the rest of the family. They were seated on the little +front porch, Mrs. O'Brien and Jamie on chairs and Terence on the porch +steps. Rosie took her place opposite Terence to await the arrival of +George Riley. + +In good time he came, bursting with his bit of news. "Hello, Rosie! +Hello, everybody!" he called out before he was inside the gate. He had a +letter in his hand which he waved excitedly in Rosie's face. + +"See this, Rosie? It's from mother; and what do you think? You and +Geraldine are to go out to the country for two weeks and maybe three! +What do you say to that?" + +For a moment Rosie had nothing to say. Then she gasped: "Why, Jarge, +what do you mean?" + +"And you're to start tomorrow, Rosie, on the eleven o'clock train, and +dad'll be at the station to meet you. You'll know him 'cause he looks +just like the farmers in the Sunday papers, with a big straw hat and +thin whiskers. And he drives an old white horse--Billy's his name." + +"Mercy on us, Jarge Riley, how you talk!" Mrs. O'Brien leaned forward in +excitement. "What's this ye're sayin'?" + +George laughed and started over again. "You see, Mis' O'Brien, Rosie and +me was talking the other day about babies and the country, and then +Geraldine began crying and I thought to myself, 'Well, I'll just write +to mother and see.' I wrote that morning, and here's the answer. The +postman gave it to me as I was starting out this afternoon." + +"That's it, is it?" Mrs. O'Brien seemed to understand perfectly. To +Rosie, however, the news still sounded too good to be true. + +"Jarge, do you mean your mother has invited Geraldine and me out to the +country for a couple o' weeks?" + +"Sure, that's what I mean. And you're to start tomorrow----" + +"Oh, Jarge, and can Geraldine sleep on the upstairs porch where the +breeze always blows and they's no mosquitoes or flies?" + +"O' course she can, and you can, too!" + +Rosie was laughing and crying together. "Do you hear that, Ma? She's +going to have a chance to sleep and get back her strength and then +she'll be able to pull over this horrible teething time, and then she +won't--she won't have to die!" + +Rosie put her arms about George's neck and covered his cheek with tears +and kisses. Then suddenly she paused. + +"But, Jarge, I don't know whether I can go! What about my papers?" + +George laughed. "Aw, let the papers go blow! Anyway, can't Janet +McFadden take them?" + +Rosie appealed to Terry. "Can she, Terry?" + +Terry nodded. "Sure she can. Don't you worry about those papers. Me and +Janet'll get on all right. You take Geraldine and skip off and stay away +as long as Mis' Riley wants you." + +George spread out his hands. "So you see, Rosie, everything's arranged. +You're to start tomorrow on the eleven----" + +"But, Jarge, wait a minute! We can't start tomorrow 'cause our things +aren't ready. A whole lot of Geraldine's clothes and mine, too, got to +be washed." + +"Can't you take 'em with you and wash 'em in the country?" + +"Oh, Jarge!" The suggestion was evidently a horrible one, for Mrs. +O'Brien and Rosie spoke together. + +George looked troubled. "But, Rosie, you got to start tomorrow. Didn't I +tell you that dad and Billy are going to drive down to meet you?" + +Mrs. O'Brien stood up. "Make your mind easy, Jarge. Rosie'll be ready on +time. I'll go in this minute and do that washin' now, and the things'll +be all dry and ready for ironin' by early mornin'." + +Rosie gasped. "Why, Ma, it's going on ten o'clock!" + +"Rosie dear, I don't care what o'clock it's going on. If it's the last +mortal thing I ever do for you, I'm going to do that washin' tonight, +for, if I do say it, ye're the best child that ever trod shoe-leather." + +Jamie O'Brien's tilted chair came down on the porch floor with a thud, +while Jamie remarked solemnly: "You're right, Maggie; she is!" + +Mrs. O'Brien moved toward the door. "Come on, Rosie dear, and help me +gather the things." + +Rosie started up, then paused to glance from one to another of them. In +the soft glow of the summer night she could see that they were all +looking at her with the same expression of love and tenderness. Rosie +choked. "I don't see why--everybody's--so kind--to me!" + +She turned back to George. "And I've been just horrible to you, Jarge! +You'll forgive me, won't you? I guess it was the weather." + +"Aw, go on!" George spoke with a gruffness that deceived nobody. "I +guess it's been the weather with all of us!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +HOME AGAIN + + +George Riley protested vigorously: "But I tell you she's only a little +girl and she's got a baby and a big basket and I don't know how many +other things and some one's just got to help her!" + +With anxious headshakes Terence and Janet McFadden corroborated all +George Riley said, but the gatekeeper was firm. "Only passengers this +side the fence," he repeated. + +So the three friends had to wait while the long train slowly disgorged. +Terence stood guard on one side of the gate, George Riley on the other, +while Janet pressed a tense searching face through the bars of the high +division fence. The first arrivals were the dapper quick young men with +new leather bags and walking-sticks who, in their eagerness to arrive, +always drop off a train before it stops. After them came more men and +the more agile of the women passengers. Then the general rush and crush: +the fussy people laden down with parcels; old ladies struggling to +protect their small handbags from the assaults of porters; distracted +mothers jerking their broods hither and thither; middle-aged men +murmuring to wives and daughters, "No rush! No rush! Plenty of time!" + +"Maybe she missed the train!" Janet McFadden suggested tragically. + +The crush subsided, the last stragglers passed through the gate, and +then, just as Janet remarked gloomily, "Well, I was perfectly sure she +wasn't coming!" a little girl with a baby in her arms alighted from a +coach far down the track and stood where she was while the conductor +piled the ground about her with boxes and parcels and baskets +innumerable. + +"There she is! There she is!" Janet and Terence cried out together. + +The gatekeeper looked at them a little less sternly. "Well, I guess you +can come in now." + +Janet dashed through the gate with her arms raised high, calling out a +joyful "Rosie! Rosie!" George Riley and Terence followed close on her +heels, and in a moment Rosie and the baby were enveloped in a cloud of +hugs and kisses. + +"Oh!" Rosie gasped, "but it's nice to be back! And I'm so glad to see +you all!... Here, Jarge, you take that heavy box and be awful careful. +It has jelly in it and canned fruit and I made them all myself, too! +Your mother taught me how.... You take the big basket, Terry. That's our +clothes. And I think you can take the basket of vegetables in the other +hand. Janet'll take that bundle, won't you, Janet? They's two dressed +chickens in it and I plucked them myself, too. Mis' Riley showed me how. +And you take the shoe-box, Janet. It's full of cookies. Hold it straight +so's not to break them.... I'll take that last basket in my other hand. +You can't guess what's in it, can they, Geraldine? It's Geraldine's +little pussy cat! We just couldn't leave it, could we, baby? Geraldine +named it herself. She named it Jarge." + +"After me, I suppose," George said, and they all laughed as if this were +a mighty fine joke. + +"Now are we ready?" Rosie asked, making a quick count of bundles and +baskets. "I'm not leaving anything, am I?" + +George groaned. "I should hope not! Tell you one thing: I can't carry +any more. Say, Rosie, what have you filled your jelly glasses with? +Rocks?" + +This was another fine joke and it carried them out of the station and +all the way to the cars. + +"Now watch me play the Rube," George whispered with a wink. When the +conductor came for their fares, George fumbled in his pocket, counted +the change laboriously, then asked for an impossible transfer. The +conductor tried patiently to explain, at which George slapped him on the +shoulder and roared out: "Aw, go on! I'm a railroad man myself!" At this +everybody laughed and the conductor and George became friends on the +spot. + +At the home corner, small Jack was waiting and, before Rosie was fairly +off the car, he was calling out excitedly: "Hello, Rosie! Hello! What +did you bring me from the country?" + +"Oh, you darling Jackie! I'm so glad to see you!" Rosie kissed him on +both cheeks, then answered his question. "A little turtle! It's in a box +at the bottom of the vegetable basket that Terry's carrying." + +Jack danced up and down in delight. "Oh, Rosie, can't I have it now? +Please!" + +"No, no, Jackie, you must wait till we get home." + +"Aw, Rosie, all right for you!" Jack looked at her reproachfully, then +shouted out: "Come on! Come on! Let's hurry home!" + +At home Mrs. O'Brien and Jamie were waiting for them with outstretched +arms. + +"Ah, Rosie," her mother exclaimed, with fluttering hands and streaming +eyes; "I'm that glad to see you, I'm weepin'! And will ye look at wee +Geraldine as fat and smilin' as a suckin' pig! Ah, Geraldine darlint, +come to yir own ma!" + +Jamie O'Brien, less demonstrative than his wife, patted Rosie's head +gently. "It's mighty glad I am to have you back. Why, do you know, +Rosie, since you've been gone there hasn't been a soul in the house to +hand me a pipe of an evening!" + +"You poor old Dad!" Rosie began sympathetically. She would have said +more but small Jack interrupted. + +"Now, Rosie, give me my turtle! You promised you would!" + +"Of course I did," Rosie acknowledged, "and I'll get it for you right +now. Here, Terry, let me have the vegetable basket." Rosie thrust her +hands among the onions and cabbages and drew out a small pasteboard box +generously pierced with air holes. + +"Here it is, Jackie dear." + +Jack pulled off the string, tore open the box, and gaped in wide-eyed +delight. "Oh, Rosie, thanks! thanks! It's a beaut!" For one moment mere +possession was enough, on the next came an overpowering desire to +exhibit his treasure before an admiring and envious world. + +"Say, Rosie, I got to run down and see Joe Slattery. I'll be back in a +minute." + +Mrs. O'Brien put out a detaining hand. "No, you won't be going down to +see any Joe Slattery! Dinner's ready and you'll be comin' in with the +rest of the family this minute. Come along, Rosie dear." + +Rosie paused. "Can't we keep Janet, Ma? Is there enough?" + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head emphatically. "Sure there's enough and, if +there ain't, we'll make it enough." + +"Thanks, Mis' O'Brien, but I don't believe I better stay." Janet spoke +regretfully. "You know my mother ain't very well these days and I don't +like to leave her alone too long." + +"Why, Janet!" Rosie looked at her friend in sudden concern. "Is your +mother sick?" + +Janet shook her head. "I don't know what's the matter with her. It seems +like the hot weather and the work and the worry have been too much for +her. But I'll be back, Rosie, at three o'clock for our papers. I got two +new customers, didn't I, Terry? And, Rosie, what do you think? Terry +gave me an extra nickel for each of them." + +Janet started off and Mrs. O'Brien exclaimed: "Now, then, for dinner! +All of yez!" + +"See you later, Rosie," George Riley remarked, opening the door of his +own room. + +Mrs. O'Brien called after him excitedly: "Why, Jarge lad, where's this +you're going? Aren't you sitting down with the rest of us?" + +"I ain't more than had my breakfast," George explained; "and I think I +better get in a little nap before I start out on my next run." He nodded +to Rosie, smiled, and shut his door. + +"Poor Jarge!" Mrs. O'Brien threw sympathetic eyes to heaven and sighed. + +Rosie looked at her mother quickly. "Is there anything the matter with +Jarge?" + +"Poor fella!" Mrs. O'Brien went on in the same lugubrious tone. "He's as +honest as the day and I'm sure I wish him every blessing under heaven. +Never in me life have I liked a boarder as much as I like Jarge. He's no +trouble at all, at all, and it was mighty kind of his mother inviting +you and Geraldine to the country. No, no, Rosie, you must never make +the mistake of supposing I'm not fond of Jarge!" + +"Ma," Rosie begged; "tell me what's the matter!" She stopped suddenly +and two little points of steel came into her blue eyes. "Is it Ellen? +Has she been doing something to him again?" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked grieved. "Why, Rosie, I'm surprised at you--I am +that, to hear you talk that way about your poor sister Ellen. And such a +bit of news as I've got about Ellen, too! Sit down now and, when I serve +you, I'll tell you." + +There was no hurrying Mrs. O'Brien and Rosie, knowing this, said no +more. At heart she gave a little sigh. It was as if a shadow were +overcasting the bright joy of her home-coming. She had arrived so full +of her own happiness that she had failed to see any evidence of the care +and worry which, she realized now, had plainly stamped the faces of her +two dearest friends. Poor Janet McFadden! For one reason or another it +had always been poor Janet. And now, apparently, it was to be poor +George Riley as well. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +GEORGE TURNS + + +"Now!" Everything was on the table and there was no further excuse for +Mrs. O'Brien's not seating herself. She dropped into a chair and beamed +upon Rosie triumphantly. "And just to think, Rosie dear, that you don't +yet know about Ellen! Ellen's got a job! She's starting in on eight +dollars a week and she's to go to ten in a couple of weeks if she's +satisfactory. And you know yourself that twenty dollars is nothing for a +fine stenographer to be getting nowadays. And twenty a week means eighty +a month and eighty a month means close on to a thousand a year! Now I do +say that a thousand a year is a pretty big lump of money for a girl like +Ellen to be making!" + +Mrs. O'Brien's enthusiasm was genuine but scarcely infectious. Terence +jerked his head toward Rosie with a dry aside: "She started work +yesterday on a week's trial." + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her son reprovingly. "Why, Terry lad, how you +talk! On trial, indeed! As if a trial ain't a sure thing with a girl +that's got the fine looks and the fine education that Ellen's got!" + +"Fine education--rats! I bet she knows as much about stenography as a +bunny!" + +His mother gazed on him offended and hurt. "Since you're such a wise +young man, Mister Terence O'Brien, perhaps you'll be telling us how much +you know about it, yourself." + +Terry's answer was prompt: "Not a blamed thing! But I tell you what I do +know: I know Ellen, and you can take it from me she's a frost." + +Rosie sighed plaintively. "But where does Jarge come in? What's the +matter with Jarge." + +Terence answered her shortly: "Oh, nuthin'. Ellen only played him one of +her little tricks last week and he's mad." + +"And I must say," Mrs. O'Brien supplemented, "Jarge does surprise me the +way he keeps it up. After all, Ellen's only a young girl and he ought to +remember that every young girl makes a mistake now and then." + +"What mistake did she make this time?" Rosie spoke as quietly as she +could. + +"It's a long story," her mother said. "Since you've been gone she met a +fella named Finn, Larry Finn, and we all thought him very nice, he was +that polite with his hair always brushed and shiny and smooth. He had a +good job downtown----" + +"You know his kind, Rosie," Terry interposed; "a five dollar a week +book-keep--silk socks but no undershirt. Oh, he was a great sport! Ellen +was crazy about him." + +"Terence O'Brien, have ye no manners to be takin' the words out of yir +own mother's mouth! Now hold yir tongue while I explain to Rosie." +Terence subsided and Mrs. O'Brien started in afresh: "Well, as I was +saying, this Finn fella took a great fancy to Ellen and was coming +around every night to see her. He took her to the movies and gave her +ice-cream sodas and they were getting on fine. Then last week he was +going to take her to the Twirler Club's Annual Ball." + +"The Twirlers' Ball!" Rosie looked at her mother questioningly. + +That lady waved a reassuring hand. "Oh, the ball was all right this +year--perfectly nice and decent. Ellen found out about it beforehand. +Not like last year! No drunks was to be allowed on the floor and none of +them disgraceful dances. Oh, if it had been like last year, I'd never +have consented to Ellen's going! You know that, Rosie!" + +"Huh!" grunted Terry. + +His mother paid no heed to him. "As I was saying, Rosie, the night +before the ball, Larry had to come excusing himself because they had +just told him he would have to stay working till all hours the next +night. So there was poor Ellen, who might have had her pick a week or +two earlier, left high and dry at the last moment. I tell you, Rosie, it +would have wrung your heart to see the poor girl's disappointment. A +girl of less spirit would have given up, but not Ellen. Ellen was going +to that ball and you know how firm Ellen is once she makes up her mind. +So she just asked Jarge Riley to take her." + +"Ma! Do you mean to say she had the cheek to ask poor Jarge after the +way she's been treating him all these months!" + +"Ah, ah, don't look at me that way, Rosie! Of course I mean it. Why +shouldn't she ask him? He's a nice fella and, besides that, he's a +friend of the family." + +"Say, Terry, what do you know about that?" Rosie appealed to her brother +sure that he, at least, would understand the humiliation she felt both +at Ellen's manoeuvre and at their mother's calm acceptance of it. + +Terry did understand and gave her the sympathy of a quick nod and a +short laugh. "What do you expect? You know Ellen." + +"Well, all I got to say is: it's a shame!" Tears of indignation stood in +Rosie's eyes. "She treats him like a dog and then, when it suits her, +she makes use of him. It's an outrage--that's what it is! I suppose he +went, of course. Poor Jarge is so easy." + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head. "Sure he went. He didn't want to at first +because he didn't like Ellen mixing up with the Twirlers. When she +insisted, he said, all right, he'd go." + +"Is that all?" Rosie asked. + +"All!" echoed her mother. "Bless your heart, no! It's hardly the +beginning!" + +Rosie sighed. + +"Aw, Ma," Terry protested, "look at you! You're tiring Rosie all out and +it's only her first day home. Why don't you spit it out quick?" + +"Terry, Terry, that's not a nice way to talk, telling your poor ma to +spit it out! Shame on you, lad, for using such a word!" + +"Well, what happened at the ball?" Rosie begged. + +"I was coming to that, Rosie dear, when Terry interrupted me. As I was +saying, who showed up at the ball quite unexpected-like but Larry Finn. +When Ellen saw Larry she turned to Jarge and says to him that, if he +wanted to go home early, he needn't wait for her, that Larry would take +care of her." + +"Oh, Ma!" Rosie's eyes grew bright and her cheeks a deeper pink. "Do you +mean to say after letting poor Jarge take her and pay her admission she +turned around and treated him like that!" + +Mrs. O'Brien lifted disclaiming hands. "Mind now, I'm not trying to +defend Ellen, but I do say she's only a young girl and young girls make +mistakes now and then." + +"Well,"--Rosie tried to speak quietly--"what did Jarge do?" + +"What did Jarge do? Something awful! Now remember, Rosie dear, I'm not +trying to run Jarge down. He's a nice fella and he's a kind fella and +I've never had a boarder that was so easy to please and, as I've told +you before, it was mighty good of him having his mother invite you and +Geraldine to the country. But I must say he did act something scandalous +that night." + +Mrs. O'Brien paused to shake her head impressively and Rosie, in +desperation, appealed to Terence. "Tell me, Terry, what did he do?" + +Terry grinned. "What did he do? Why, he laid for Larry Finn and, when +Larry and Ellen came out, he punched Larry's face for him!" + +"It was something awful!" Mrs. O'Brien again declared. "Every day for a +week poor Larry had to carry a black eye with him down to the office. +And you know yourself the way other men laugh at a black eye. And he's +not been here to see Ellen since and Ellen's awful mad and, besides +that, no one else has been coming, for the word has gone out that +Jarge'll kill any fella that's fool enough to be showin' his face." + +"Well, it's just good for her, too!" Ellen's unexpected plight was the +one thing in the whole situation that gave Rosie any satisfaction. +However, she gloated on it only for a moment. "But about Jarge, +Terry--did he get pulled in that night?" + +Terry shook his head. "No. You see the ball was ending up in a +free-for-all, just like the Twirlers always do, and the cops were so +busy inside that there was no one left to pay any attention to a little +thing like Jarge's scrap." + +"And I must say," Mrs. O'Brien continued, "I'm sorry for that poor Larry +Finn, for it wasn't his fault at all, at all. It was Ellen's own +arrangement." + +"That's so," Rosie agreed. "By rights Ellen's the one that ought to have +got beat up." + +"Why, Rosie, I'm surprised to hear you say such a thing and about your +own sister, too!" + +Mrs. O'Brien's surprise was lost upon Rosie, who was looking intently at +her father. "Say, Dad, what do you think of a girl doing a trick like +that on two decent fellows?" + +Jamie O'Brien, who had said nothing up to this, took a drink of tea, +wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and slowly cleared his +throat. "It's me own opinion, Rosie, it's a very risky game that Ellen's +playing." + +"Risky? It's worse than risky: it's dishonest." + +Rosie started to push back her chair, but her mother stretched out a +detaining hand. "Wait a minute, Rosie. You haven't yet heard what I'm +trying to tell you." + +Rosie's eyes opened wide. "Is there any more?" + +"To be sure there is, Rosie. You've only heard the beginning." + +Rosie dropped back in her chair a little limply. What more could there +be? + +Mrs. O'Brien breathed hard and long; she sighed; she gazed about at the +various members of her family. At last she spoke: + +"I don't know what's come over Jarge since that night. You know yourself +what an easy-going young fella he's always been, never holding a grudge, +always ready to let bygones be bygones. Well, he's never forgiven Ellen +from that night on. He scowls at her like a storm-cloud every time he +sees her and last week, Rosie--why, you'll hardly believe me when I tell +you what he said to her last week. We were all sitting here at the +table: your poor da over there, and Terry in his place, and Jack beside +him, and meself here. Ellen made some thriflin' remark about how silly a +girl is to marry herself to one man when she might be going around +having a good time with half a dozen--nuthin' at all, you understand, +just the way Ellen always runs on, when, before I knew what was +happening, Jarge jumped to his feet and pounded the table until every +dish on it was rattlin'. 'That's how you feel, is it?' says he, glaring +at poor Ellen like a mad bull. 'Well, if that's your little game,' says +he, 'I've been a goat long enough. Not another thing will I ever do for +you, Ellen O'Brien, not another blessed cent will I ever spend on you +until you tell me you'll marry me and set the date. And what's more,' +says he, 'I'll give you one month from today to decide,' says he. 'I'll +be going back to the farm in September,' says he, 'so it's time I knew +pretty straight just where we stand. So no more foolin', me lady,' says +he. 'It's to be yes or no to Jarge Riley and that's the end of it.'" + +"Good for Jarge! Good for Jarge!" Rosie cried, clapping her hands in +excitement. "He was able for her that time, wasn't he?" + +"Able for her, Rosie? Well, I must say it's a mighty strange way for a +young fella to talk that's courtin' a girl. Your own poor da never +talked that way to me, did you, Jamie dear? I wouldn't have stood it! I +give you me word of honour I wouldn't!" + +Terry chuckled and Rosie, glancing at her meek quiet little father, also +smiled for an instant. Then her face again went grave. + +"How did Ellen take it? Did she tell him once for all she'd never have +him?" + +"Bless your poor innocent heart, no!" Mrs. O'Brien was astonished at the +mere suggestion. "That'd be a strange thing for a girl to tell a man! Of +course, though, it ain't likely that Ellen ever will have him. Jarge is +all right, understand, but take Ellen with her fine looks and her fine +education and it's me own opinion that some of these days she'll be +making a big match. Especially now that she's going around to them +offices downtown where she'll be meeting lots of rich business men." + +"Of course, Ma, that's the way you look at it and the way Ellen looks at +it. Neither of you thinks of poor old Jarge one little bit." + +"Nonsense, Rosie. I like Jarge and so does Ellen. But you mustn't be +blaming a girl like Ellen for not throwing over a good useful beau like +Jarge until she's made sure of some one better. It's fine for Ellen to +have Jarge to fall back on." + +"To fall back on!" Rosie echoed. + +Jamie O'Brien slowly pushed away his chair and cleared his throat. "It's +me own opinion," he announced gravely, "that Jarge is too good for Ellen +by far." + +"You bet he is!" Rosie declared fiercely. + +Mrs. O'Brien looked hurt and grieved. "I don't see how you can all talk +that way about poor Ellen. Besides his other virtues, you'll soon be +telling me that Jarge is a good-looker!" + +"A good-looker!" Rosie cried. "Ma, how can you talk that way? His looks +are all right and Jarge himself is all right." + +Mrs. O'Brien fumbled a moment. "It's not that I meself object to his +looks, understand, but Ellen, being so fine looking herself, is mighty +particular. She likes them big and handsome and stylish and dressy." + +"Like Larry Finn," snickered Terry. + +Mrs. O'Brien pretended not to hear. + +Rosie, with sober quiet face, pushed back her chair and began clearing +the table. + +"No, no, not today, Rosie," her mother insisted. "You're not going to +start right off with dish-washing. You're company for one day at least, +ain't she, Jamie? So take Terry and Jack out in front and tell them +about the country. Jack wants to hear all about the pigs and cows, +don't you, Jackie dear?" + +"Not just now," Jack answered truthfully. "I got to go out and see a +fellow. But thanks for that turtle, Rosie." + +Rosie paused a moment in doubt until her father nodded encouragingly and +Terry, putting an arm about her shoulder, drew her away. + +"I sure am glad to see you home again," he said when they were alone. + +Rosie looked up at him affectionately. "And I'm glad to be home, Terry. +But I'm awful sorry about poor Jarge." + +"Don't you worry about Jarge," Terry advised. "If Ellen did take him it +would be the worst thing that ever happened him." + +"I know, Terry, but I can't bear to have him so unhappy." + +"Well, take it from me, he'd be unhappier if he got Ellen." + +Rosie paused a moment. "Say, Terry, is she worse since she's got a job?" + +Terry answered shortly: "She's the limit! She's making a bigger fool +than ever of ma. Wait till you see her tonight." + +"I don't want to see her. She always rubs me the wrong way and makes me +say things I don't want to say. But I do want to see poor old Jarge.... +Say, Terry, don't it beat all the way a good sensible fellow like Jarge +goes crazy over a girl like Ellen? How do you account for it?" + +Terry shook his head. "Search me." + +"They always do," Rosie continued. + +"Well, I tell you one thing, Rosie: I be blamed if ever I fall in love +with a girl that ain't nice!" Fourteen years old looked out upon the +world firmly and resolutely. "Not on your life!" + +"I wouldn't either, Terry, if I was you! 'Tain't sensible!" And twelve +years old shook her head sagely. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +DANNY AGIN ON LOVE + + +At three o'clock Janet appeared and Rosie and she started out together. +Rosie had been gone only three weeks but, in that short time, changes +had come about, events had occurred, which had altered irrevocably the +face of her little world. Within the limits of her own short paper route +the whole cycle of existence had turned. Life had been ushered in, life +had passed out, and that closest of human pacts which is the promise of +life to succeeding generations had been entered into. + +Janet McFadden was voluble. "It turned out to be twins at the +Flannigans, Rosie, and they just had an awful time. The doctor said that +poor Mis' Flannigan was too hard-worked before they came and that's why +they're so weak and sickly. Ain't it just tough the way poor little +babies have to pay up for things like that?... And you know about Jake +Mullane dying last week, don't you? It was sunstroke and I suppose he +had been drinking and he just went that quick. They certainly had a +swell funeral with six carriages and plumes and tassels on the horses +and Lucy and Katie and even the baby dressed in black. But doesn't it +kind of scare you, Rosie, to think of a big strong man like Jake being +dead and buried before you can turn around?... And, say, Rosie, I do +wish you had been here to see the wedding! It was just beautiful! Bessie +had a veil and pink roses and smilax and Ed Haskins hired three +carriages for the day. There were white ribbons on the whips and little +white bows behind the horses' ears. Maybe you think they didn't look +swell! They rode around town from ten o'clock in the morning until +midnight. Jarge Riley saw them coming home and he says they were lying +all over each other fast asleep. I'm not surprised at that, are you? +Bessie's in her own little flat now. It isn't any bigger than a soap-box +but she's got it all fixed up and pretty. She took me through and showed +me her dishes and everything. They furnished on twenty-five dollars down +and a dollar a week for a year. I guess Ed Haskins is going to be a good +provider all right...." + +Janet chatted on, pausing only to let people greet Rosie. Rosie's +progress that afternoon was something of a reception. Every one who saw +her stopped to call out: "Back again, Rosie? Awful glad to see you!" or, +"Hello, kid! How's the country?" It gave Rosie the very pleasant feeling +that she had been missed during her absence. + +At the end of the route when they came to Danny Agin's cottage, they +found old Mary Agin near the gate, busied over her flowers. At sight of +Rosie, she stood up, tall and gaunt, and held out welcoming hands. + +"Ah, Rosie dear, it's glad I am to see you! And himself will be glad as +well when he hears you're back." Mrs. Agin was an undemonstrative old +woman but she bent now and kissed Rosie on the forehead. + +"How is Danny, Mis' Agin?" Rosie asked. "Is he pretty well?" + +"Pretty well, do ye say? Ah, Rosie--" and Mary Agin paused while her +eyes half closed as if in pain. + +"I forgot to tell you," Janet whispered; "Danny's been awful sick." + +"And for two weeks," Mary Agin said, "the great fear was on me day and +night that he'd be shlippin' away and me left a sad lonely old woman +with nobody to talk to but the cat.... Will ye come in and see him, +Rosie? The sight of you will do him a world of good, for he's mighty +fond of you and he's been askin' for you every day. Just run along in +for a minute and say 'Howdy.' Janet'll wait out here with me." + +Rosie found Danny propped up at the bedroom window. The colour of his +round apple cheeks had faded, their plumpness had fallen in, but on +sight of Rosie the twinkle returned to his little blue eyes and he +raised a knotted rheumatic hand in welcome. + +"Is it yourself, Rosie O'Brien? Come over and give an old man a kiss +and tell him you're glad he's not dead yet." + +"Oh, Danny, don't talk that way," Rosie pleaded. She kissed his cheek, +which was rough with a stubby growth of beard, then stood for a moment +with her arms about his neck. + +"It's the merest chance that ye find me here," Danny said; "but now that +I am here I suppose I'll stay on awhile longer. But I almost got off, +Rosie. 'Twas Mary that pulled me back. Poor girl, she couldn't stand the +thought of not having some one to scold. 'Twould be the death of her." +Danny blinked his eyes and chuckled. + +"Danny, you oughtn't to talk that way about poor Mis' Agin!" Rosie shook +her head vigorously. "She loves you, Danny, you know she does!" + +"To be sure," Danny agreed. "'Whom the Lord loveth, He chases,' and Mary +has been chasin' me these forty years. But she's a good woman, +Rosie--oh, ho, I never forget that!" Danny paused a moment, then added +with a wicked little grin: "And if I was to forget it, she'd be on hand +herself to remind me of it!" + +As always, when they were alone, Danny was a good deal of the naughty +small boy saying things he should not say, and Rosie a good deal of the +helpless shocked young mother begging him to mind his manners. She +looked at him now sadly and yearningly. "Oh, Danny, I don't see how you +can talk that way and poor Mis' Agin's just been nursing you night and +day." + +"Pooh!" scoffed Danny. "Take me word for it, Rosie, when ye've been +married forty years, ye'll expect to be nursed night and day and no back +talk from any one. But, for love of Mike, darlint dear, let's talk of +something else! I've had nuthin' but Mary for the last couple of weeks. +Not another face have I seen and ye know yourself that Mary's face was +niver intinded for such constant use!" + +Rosie gasped and swallowed and tried hard to find some fitting reproof. +Failing in this she sought to distract her friend from further +indiscretions by changing the subject. "Hasn't Janet been in to see you, +Danny?" + +"Janet?" Danny spoke as though with an effort to recall the name. "Yes, +I suppose Janet has been in. I dunno." + +"Danny, I don't see how you could forget." + +"I don't forget but I don't just exactly remember." + +"Danny, you're always saying things like that and I don't know what you +mean. Either you remember or you don't remember and that's all there is +to it." Rosie looked at him severely. "I don't think it's a bit nice of +you to pretend not to remember Janet. She's my dearest friend and +besides that she's a very nice girl." + +Danny agreed heartily: "Oh, Janet's a fine girl--she is that! In +fact"--and Danny paused to make Rosie a knowing wink--"she might very +well be Mary's own child. Just look at the solemn face of her that hurts +when she laughs!" + +"Danny, Danny, you mustn't talk that way, and you wouldn't either if you +knew the hard time poor Janet has at home!" + +"Wouldn't I now? Don't I know the hard time poor Mary Agin has at home +and don't I say the same of her? Rosie, take me word for it, there are +some women are born for a hard time. They like it. Since Mary's been +waiting on me, hand and foot, she's been a happy woman. In the old days +when I was a spry, jump-about kind of man, making good money and no odds +from any one, Mary was a sad complainin' creature, always courtin' +disaster and foreseein' trouble. And look at her now: with a penny in +her pocket where she used to have a dollar and a cripple in a chair +instead of a wage-earnin' husband, and never a word of complaint out of +her mouth!" Danny ruminated a moment. "The rheumatiz has been pretty +hard on me, Rosie dear, but I tell you it's been the makin' of a happy +woman!" + +Close as they were to each other, Rosie was often in doubt as to the +exact meaning of Danny's little quirks of thought. She looked at him +now, trying to decide whether his remarks deserved reproof or +acceptance. Danny watched her with twinkling amusement. At last he burst +out laughing. + +"Ah, Rosie dear, don't trouble yir pretty little head for ye'll never +make it out! And, after all, what does it matter if ye don't? With you, +darlint, the only thing that matters is this: that it's yourself that +cheers a man's heart with your lovin' ways and your sweet pretty face." + +How Danny had worked around to this sentiment, Rosie could not for the +life of her tell. His words, however, suggested a question that called +for discussion. + +"It seems to me, Danny, you think all men like girls with loving ways." + +Danny's answer was prompt: "I do that, Rosie! You can take an old man's +word for it and no mistake." + +Rosie shook her head thoughtfully. "I don't see how you make that out. +Take Ellen now: she hasn't very loving ways; she snaps your head off if +you look at her; but she's got beaux all right--more than any girl on +the street, and poor old Jarge Riley's gone daft over her. Now how do +you make that out?" + +"Ah, that's a different matter," Danny explained airily. "You see, +Rosie, there be two classes of men, sensible men and fools, and most men +belong to both classes. Now a sensible man knows that a sweet loving +woman will make him a happy home and a good mother to his children. Any +man'll agree to that. So I'm right when I tell you that all men love +that kind of a woman, for they do. But let a bold hussy come along with +a handsome face on her and a nasty wicked temper, and before you count +ten she'll call out all the fool there is in a man and off he goes after +her as crazy as a half-witted rooster. Ah, I've seen it time and again. +Many a poor lad that ought have known better has put the halter about +his own neck! Have you ever thought, Rosie dear, of the queer ch'ices +men make when they marry?" + +"Danny, I don't know what you mean." + +Danny's eyes took on a far-away look. "Take Mary and me. For forty years +now I've been wonderin' what it was that married us." + +"Why, Danny!" Rosie's expression was reproachful. "Didn't you love +Mary?" + +"Love her, do you say? Why, of course I loved her! Didn't me knees go +weak at sight of her and me head dizzy? But the question is: why did I +love her or why did she love me? There I was a gay dancing blade of a +lad and Mary a serious owl of a girl that had never footed a jig in her +life and would have died of shame not to have her washin' out bright and +early of a Monda' mornin'. Now what was it, I ask you, that put love +between us?" + +Danny appealed to his young friend as man to man. Rosie, however, was +not a person to grant the purely academic side of any question that was +perfectly clear and matter-of-fact. + +"Why, you loved her, Danny, and she loved you and that's all there was +to it." + +For a moment Danny looked blank. Then he chuckled. "Strange I didn't +think of that before!" His eyes began to twinkle. "I'll wager, Rosie +dear, ye've never lain awake o' nights wondering what it was that made +the world go round, have you now?" + +Rosie's answer was emphatic: "Of course not! I'm not so silly!" + +Danny laughed. "I thought not." + +Rosie went back to serious matters. "But, Danny, I can't understand +about Jarge Riley and Ellen. Why is he so crazy about Ellen?" + +Danny drew a long face. "The truth is, I suppose he loves her." + +"But why does he love her?" + +Danny's eyes opened wide. "Is it yourself, Rosie O'Brien, that's askin' +me why?" + +"I don't understand it at all," Rosie continued. "I've got a mind to +give Jarge a good talking to. He just ought to be told a few things for +his own good." + +"I'm sure he'll listen to you." There was a hint of guile in Danny's +voice but Rosie refused to hear it. + +"He always does listen to me. We're mighty good friends, Jarge and +me.... Yes, I'll just talk to him tonight. I'll put it to him quietly. +Jarge has got lots of sense if only you talk to him right." + +"Of course he has," Danny agreed. "And, Rosie dear, I'm consumed with +impatience to hear the outcome of your conference. You won't fail to +stop in and tell me about it tomorrow--promise me that!" + +Rosie promised. She bid her old friend good-bye and left him, her mind +already full of the things she would say to George Riley. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +ELLEN + + +"I don't know what's keepin' poor Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien remarked as the +family gathered at supper that evening. "They're awful busy at them +down-town offices, I'm thinkin'. Ellen was expectin' to be home at six +o'clock sharp but something important must have come in and they need +her. Ah, say what you will, a poor girl's got to work mighty hard these +days." + +"Huh!" grunted Terry. + +There was a slam at the front door, at sound of which Mrs. O'Brien's +face lighted up. "Ah, there she is now, the poor dear!" + +Yes, it was Ellen. She swept at once into the kitchen and stood a moment +glowering on the family with all the blackness of a storm-cloud. Then, +without a word, she flung herself into a chair. + +"Why, Ellen dear," her mother gasped, "what's ailin' you?" + +Beyond twitching her shoulders impatiently, Ellen made no answer. + +"How do you do, Ellen?" Rosie spoke formally, in the tone of one not at +all certain as to how her own civility would be received. + +Ellen glanced at her sharply. "Huh! So you're back, are you?" + +"Ellen, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien cried reprovingly, "is that the way you +talk to poor little Rosie and her just in from the country? And she +brought you two nice dressed chickens and a basket of fine fresh +vegetables and a box----" + +Ellen cut her mother short with an impatient, "Aw, Ma, you dry up!" + +"What's the matter, Ellen?" Terry drawled out. "Lost your job?" + +For answer Ellen snatched off her hat and flung it angrily into the +corner. + +"Ellen, Ellen!" Mrs. O'Brien cried. "Your new hat!" She started forward +to rescue the hat, then paused as the significance of Terry's question +reached her understanding. Her fluttering hands fell limp, her face took +on an expression at once scared and appealing. "Oh, Ellen dear, you +haven't lost your job, have you? Don't tell me you've lost your job!" + +Ellen scowled at her mother darkly. "You bet your life I've lost my job! +I wouldn't have staid in that office another day for a thousand dollars! +They're nothing but a set of old grannies--every one of them!" + +"Oh, Ellen!" Mrs. O'Brien dropped back helplessly into her chair. A look +of overwhelming disappointment settled on her face; her mouth quivered; +her eyes overflowed. "Oh, Ellen," she repeated, "how does it come that +ye've lost it?" + +"Well, I guess you'd have lost it, too!" Ellen glared about the table +defiantly. "Any one would with that old fogy, old man Harrison, worrying +you to death with his old-maidish ways. He thinks people won't read his +old letters if every word ain't spelled just so and every comma and +period put in just right. The old fool! I'd like to know who cares about +spelling nowadays! I did one letter over for him today six times and the +sixth copy he tore up right in front of my face for nothing at all--a +t-h-e-i-r for a t-h-e-r-e and a couple of little things like that. I +tell you it made me hot under the collar and I just up and told him what +I thought of him." + +"Ellen!" Mrs. O'Brien gasped weakly. + +"Well, I did!" Ellen repeated. "I just says to him, 'Since you're so +mighty particular, Mr. Harrison, I don't see why you don't do your own +typing!'" Ellen stood up and, indicating an imaginary Mr. Harrison, +showed her family the pose she had taken. + +"Well," asked Terry, "what did he say?" + +"What did he say? He flew off the handle and shouted out: 'There's one +thing sure: I'll never have you type another letter!' Just that way, as +if I was nothing but an old errand boy! And after I had just done over +his old letter for him six times, too!" Aggrieved and injured, Ellen +appealed to her father: "Say, Dad, what do you know about that?" + +Jamie O'Brien slowly cleared his throat. "Is that the way they teach you +at the Business College to talk to your employer?" + +The reproof in Jamie's words was entirely lost upon Ellen. She tossed +her head scornfully. "Oh, us girls are on to his kind all right! We give +it to them straight from the shoulder! That's the only way to treat +'em--the fussy old women! Then they respect you!" + +"Ellen, Ellen, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien wailed forlornly, "what makes you +talk that way?" + +Terence drew Ellen back to her story: "Well, Sis, after that, what did +you say and what did he say?" + +Ellen's ill humour was fast disappearing. Under the magic of her own +recital, she was beginning to see herself in a new and flattering light. +Instead of the inefficient stenographer who, a few moments before, had +sought to hide her discomfiture in a bluster of abuse, she was now a +poor deserving working-girl who had been put upon by an unscrupulous +employer. Conscious of her own worth and made courageous by that +consciousness, she had been able, it now seemed to her, to hold her own +in a manner which must excite the admiration of her family. + +"Well, when he used such language to me, I saw all right what kind of a +man he was and I just gave it to him straight. 'I see what you're +after,' I says to him. 'You think you're going to bounce me before my +week's up and you think I'm so meek that I'll leave without saying a +word! But I just won't!' I says to him. 'You hired me for a week and if +you think you can throw me out without paying me a week's salary, you're +mighty mistaken! I've got a father,' I says to him, 'and he'll make it +hot for you!'" + +Upon Mrs. O'Brien at least the effect of the story was almost +terrifying. "Ellen, Ellen," she wailed, "what makes you talk so? You +didn't really say that to the gentleman, did you?" + +"I didn't, eh?" Ellen tossed her head defiantly. "You just bet I did!" + +"Then what did he say?" It was Terry who again asked the question that +would help the narrative on. + +Ellen smiled triumphantly. "He had nothing more to say to me. He just +called the book-keeper over to him and says: 'Pay this young woman a +week's wages and let her go.' Yes, that was every word he said. Then, +without even looking at me, he turned his back and began sorting the +papers on his desk. Fine manners for a gentleman, I say!" + +Before she finished, every member of the family had looked up in quick +surprise. + +"Do you mean," Mrs. O'Brien quavered, "do you mean, Ellen dear, that he +paid you?" + +Ellen glanced at her mother scornfully. "Of course I mean he paid me! +Here!" She opened her handbag and exhibited a wad of bills. "One five +and three ones! Pretty good pay for two days' work--what?" + +Mrs. O'Brien turned devout eyes to heaven. "Thank God, Ellen dear, he +paid you! I was a-fearin' all your hard work was going for nuthin'! +Thank God, you'll be able to start in this week payin' your board like +you intended." + +Ellen looked at her mother coldly. "Say, Ma, what do you think I am? I +told you I'd begin paying three dollars a week as soon as I got a good +steady job. Well, have I got a good steady job? No. In fact, I'm out of +a job. So you'll just have to wait like everybody else." + +"But, Ellen dear,"--Mrs. O'Brien stretched out an appealing, indefinite +hand--"what's this you're saying when you've got the money right there? +It's only Tuesda' now and if you start out bright and early tomorrow +hunting a new job, what with your fine looks and your fine education, +you'll be sure to land one by the end of the week. And then, don't you +see, there won't be any break in your payroll at all." + +Ellen waved her mother airily aside. "Say, Ma, you don't know anything +about it. If you think I'm going to start out again tomorrow morning, +you make a mighty big mistake. I'm going to take a couple of days off, I +am. I think I deserve them. I guess I've earned my living for this week. +Besides, I've got some shopping to do. I need a new hat and a lot of +things." + +"A new hat, Ellen? What's this ye're sayin'? Why, ye've not been wearing +this last one a day longer than two weeks. It's a beautiful hat if ye'd +not abuse it." Mrs. O'Brien lifted it carefully from the floor where it +still lay and held it up for general inspection. "Why, Ellen, ye don't +know how becomin' it is to you. Just the other morning, while I was +shelling peas, Jarge Riley says to me----" + +"Just cut out George Riley!" Ellen interrupted sharply. "I don't care +what George Riley says! I'm going to get some decent clothes and that's +all there is about it!" + +Terry grunted derisively. "Say, Rosie, ain't we winners?" + +Ellen flushed, conscious for the first time of Terry's disapproval. She +looked at him angrily, then turned to her mother. "Now, Ma, just listen +to that! He's always nagging at me and you never say a word!" + +"Terry, Terry," Mrs. O'Brien murmured wearily, "why do ye be talkin' +that way of your own sister? The next time she gets a job, I'm sure +she'll begin payin' board the first thing, won't you, Ellen dear?" + +"Say, Ma, you and Ellen are a team." Terry eyed his mother meditatively. +"You take her guff every time. Not a day goes by that she don't pay you +dirt, but you keep on trusting her just the same." + +"Ah, Terry lad, how can you talk so? Perhaps Ellen has made a few +mistakes, but you oughtn't to forget she's your own sister." + +"I don't." Terry spoke shortly and rose from his chair. "Come on, Rosie, +no use hanging around here any longer." + +Rosie hesitated. "I think I'll wait to do the dishes first. Ma's all +tired out." + +"Indeed, and you'll do no such thing!" Mrs. O'Brien declared. "You're +company for today, Rosie, so make the most of it." + +"Ellen will do the dishes, won't you, Ellen dear?" Terry spoke +facetiously with his mother's intonation. + +"Of course Ellen will," Mrs. O'Brien said. "I'm sure she will, for if +she's not working tomorrow she'll not be having to save herself." + +Rosie, willing to accept this assurance, allowed Terry to draw her away +from the kitchen and out to the little front porch. "But you know, +Terry, of course she won't." + +Terry laughed a little grimly. "Of course not!" He paused a moment in +thought. "Say, Rosie, don't it beat all the way she goes along doing +just as she pleases? Hardly any one calls her bluff. I can see just how +it was in that office today. She put up such an ugly fight that they +were glad to shell out an extra five spot that she hadn't begun to earn +just to get rid of her. And look at her here at home. She wouldn't hand +out a nickel to the rest of us if we were starving. She'd spend it on +an ice-cream soda for herself." + +Rosie sighed. "I don't mind about us. We can take care of ourselves. But +poor old Jarge Riley, Terry. Living right here with us wouldn't you +suppose he'd get to know her?" + +"Well,"--Terry spoke in a tone somewhat didactic--"you forget one thing, +Rosie: Jarge is in love." + +"But why is he in love?" Rosie persisted. + +Terry shook his head gloomily. "Search me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +ROSIE URGES COMMON SENSE + + +"Why is he in love?" + +The question kept repeating itself to Rosie as she sat on the porch +steps while day slowly faded and twilight deepened into night. Mrs. +O'Brien and Jamie came out after a time and Rosie talked to them about +the country, telling them of all the marvels of farm and roadside. But +through it all her mind kept reverting to the problem which had met her +so promptly on her return. + +"When you know Mis' Riley," she told her mother, "then you understand +Jarge from start to finish. She's jolly and kind and she'll do anything +in the world for you if she likes you. And, my! how she works! Jarge's +father is all right, but all he does is talk. No matter what there is to +do, he always wants to stop and talk. In the mornings he just nearly +used to drive Mis' Riley and me crazy. I can tell you we were always +busy and he ought to have been, too, and he did used to get real tired +just talking about all he had to do. Of course Grandpa Riley was awful +good to me and Geraldine and I don't like to say anything about him, but +I understand now why Jarge has to save so hard and why poor Mis' Riley +has to work so hard. And I know one thing: when Jarge does go back to +the farm and take hold of things, he and his mother'll make that old +farm pay. They're not afraid of hard work, either of them, and they've +both got good sense, too.... Say, Dad, what do you think of Ellen the +way she treats Jarge?" + +"Ellen?" Jamie O'Brien's tilted chair came down with a thud and Jamie +cleared his throat to answer. "How would you want her to be treating +him?" + +"Well, I don't want her to treat him like a dog! Jarge is too good!" + +"Don't you be worryin' about Jarge," Jamie advised. "It's just as well +for him that Ellen does treat him so." To Rosie this seemed a subject +for further discussion, but not to Jamie. He balanced back his chair and +relapsed into an abstracted silence from which Rosie's protests were +unable to arouse him. + +It had been a long and exciting day and Rosie was tired. If she had not +felt that George would be expecting to see her when he got in from his +run, she would have said good-night early and slipped quietly off to +bed. But George would be expecting her. In the morning they had had very +few words together and Rosie knew that there were a hundred things about +the farm and about his mother that George wished to hear. So she stifled +her yawns and waited. + +Talk flickered and went out. At last Jamie O'Brien tapped his pipe on +the porch rail and, going in, said: "Good-night, Rosie. It's mighty fine +to have you back." In a few moments Mrs. O'Brien followed Jamie and +Terry followed her. + +One by one the street noises grew quiet. Mothers' voices called, +"Johnny!" "Katie!" "Jimmie!" and children's voices answered, "All right! +I'm a-comin'!"; doors slammed; lights began to twinkle in bedroom +windows. Rosie's little world was preparing for sleep. Every detail of +that world was familiar to her as her mother's face. Like her mother's +face, heretofore she had taken it for granted. Tonight, coming back +after a short absence, she saw it anew with all the vividness of fresh +sight and all the understanding of lifelong acquaintance. It was her +world and, with a sudden rush of feeling, she knew that it was hers and +that she loved it. Now that she was back to it, already her weeks in the +country seemed far off and vague.... Had she ever been away? + +George came at last. He looked thin and worn and he seated himself +quietly with none of his old-time gaiety. + +"Well, Rosie," he began, "how does it seem to be back?" + +Rosie sighed. "I had a beautiful time in the country, Jarge, but I'm +glad to be back--honest I am." + +"But don't you miss the quiet of the country? I don't believe you'll be +able to sleep tonight with all the noise." + +Rosie laughed. "Jarge, you're like all country people. You think the +country's quiet and it's not at all. It's fearfully noisy! It's like +living on a railroad track! Why, do you know, the first night I was +there, I was hours and hours in going to sleep--I was so scared!" + +"Scared, Rosie? What were you scared about?" + +"The racket that was going on. I didn't know what it was at first. Then +Grandpa Riley came out and told me it was only the locusts and the +tree-toads and the frogs. For a long time, though, I didn't see how it +could be." + +George lay back and laughed with something of his old abandon. "If that +don't beat all! So they scared you, Rosie?" + +"And chickens, Jarge! Why, chickens are the noisiest things! If they are +not squabbling with each other, they're talking to themselves! And +ducks--ducks are even worse! Jarge, do you know, I call a street like +this quiet compared to the country!" + +George's laugh grew heartier. "If that ain't the funniest thing I ever +heard!" + +"It's true, Jarge!" Rosie was very serious but her seriousness only +added to George's mirth. + +"All right, kid, have it your own way. But it's kind of a new idea: the +city's quiet and the country's noisy, is that it?" + +"Oh, I don't say the city's exactly quiet." Rosie picked her words +carefully. "All I mean is, you don't notice the noises in the city like +you do the noises in the country. The city noises are not such strange +noises." + +"Oh! That's it, is it? I see!" and George slapped his knee in lusty +amusement. + +"Jarge," Rosie began slowly, "there's something I want to talk to you +about." + +"Well, here I am. There'll never be a better time." + +"It's about Ellen, Jarge." + +George's laugh stopped abruptly. + +"I don't like to say anything about her, Jarge, because she's my own +sister...." Rosie paused and sighed. "You're in love with her, Jarge, +aren't you?" + +"Yes, Rosie, I'm afraid I am. And I'm afraid I've got it bad, too." + +"Jarge dear, tell me one thing: why are you in love with her?" + +George shook his head. "Search me. I don't know." + +"But, Jarge, she ain't the kind of girl you ought to be in love with." + +"That so?" George's voice showed very little interest. + +"Why, you ought to be in love with a nice girl, Jarge--I mean a girl +that would love you and pet you and save your money and take good care +of you. That's the kind of girl you want, Jarge." + +"Is it?" George's tone was still apathetic. + +"Sure it is. Now, Jarge, look at the whole thing sensibly. What do you +want with a girl like Ellen? She doesn't think of any one but herself +and all she's after is getting beaux and spending money. What would you +do with her if you had her? Why, she'd clean out your savings in two +weeks, and then where would you be and where would your mother be and +where would the farm be?" + +George sighed heavily. "I suppose you're right, Rosie, but that don't +seem to make any difference. I don't know why I want her, but I do. I +want her so bad I lay awake nights and I ain't never laid awake before +in my life. No use talking, Rosie, it's Ellen or no one for me." + +"But, Jarge dear, why can't you be sensible? You're sensible in other +things." + +"See here, Rosie, you don't know what you're talking about!" George +spoke sharply but not unkindly. "A fellow don't fall in love with a girl +because he wants to or because he ought to or because she'd make him a +good wife. I don't understand why he does; I don't know a thing about +it. He just does and that's all there is to it!" + +"But, Jarge," Rosie persisted, "if he knows it ain't best for him, I +should think he just wouldn't let himself fall in love." + +"Didn't I just tell you a fellow himself has nothing to do with it!" +For a moment George lost his temper, then he laughed a little +sheepishly. "I don't blame you, Rosie, for not understanding. It sounds +terrible foolish and I guess it is foolish. But it's how we're made and +that's all there is about it. Some of these days you'll get caught +yourself and then you'll understand." + +George reached over and gave Rosie's hand a confidential little squeeze. +Rosie did not return the pressure. She even drew her own hand away a +little coldly. + +"It's all very well, Jarge Riley, for you to pretend that falling in +love is so terribly mysterious, but I want to tell you one thing. I know +better! It's as common as onions! Why, everybody does it! I guess I've +seen 'em--out in the parks and on the street and in the cars and +everywhere! And, besides that, I can tell you something else: if they'd +only use a little common sense when they are in love they wouldn't make +such fools of themselves. Yes, Jarge Riley, and you're just the very +person I mean! There you are, wanting to make love to Ellen and what do +you do? The very things that make her laugh at you! If you'd use one +grain of common sense you'd get on with her as well as the rest of the +fellows. But no, says you, a man can't possibly use common sense in +love! Jarge Riley, you're as silly as a chicken and what's more, since +I've been in the country, I know exactly how silly chickens are!" + +"Why, Rosie!" George was too much taken back by Rosie's tirade to do +more than gape in helpless astonishment. + +"I mean just what I say!" Rosie assured him severely. "I was sorry for +you at first, but now I don't pity you at all. If you're going to be +stubborn, you don't deserve to be pitied." + +"Well, Rosie, what do you want me to do?" + +George's tone was so conciliatory that Rosie's manner softened. "All I +ask you, Jarge, is to be sensible." + +George sighed and laughed. "Sounds easy, don't it? Now you think it +would be sensible for a farmer like me not to think any more about a +girl like Ellen. That's it, ain't it?" + +Rosie answered promptly: "Yes, Jarge, that would certainly be the most +sensible thing you could do." + +"Rosie, that's the one thing I can't do, whether I'd like to or not. I'm +sorry, though, because I don't want you to think I'm only stubborn." + +It was Rosie's turn to sigh. "You're an awful hard person to help, +Jarge. You pretend you're perfectly willing to be sensible, yet the +minute I tell you how you draw back." Rosie sighed again. + +"But at least, Jarge, you might be sensible in other things." She turned +on him with sudden energy. "And do you know, Jarge, if you were sensible +in other things, I think you might easy enough make Ellen like you! Why +not?" + +"Ain't I sensible in other things?" George spoke a little plaintively. + +"I should say not! Everything you do gives Ellen another chance to laugh +at you and make fun of you. Take the other night at the Twirlers' dance. +Now if you had gone about that thing right you could have made Ellen and +all the other girls just crazy about you. You needn't think Ellen +wouldn't like to have a beau that can lick everybody in sight. She +would. Any girl would. But all you did was make her mad." + +George groaned. His prowess at the Twirlers' was not a pleasant memory. +When he spoke, his tone was a little sullen. "What is it you want me to +do?" + +"I only want you to act sensible." + +"Well, then, tell me this: how's a born fool to act sensible?" + +"When he don't know how to act sensible himself," Rosie answered, +"there's only one thing for him to do and that is to take the advice of +some one who does know." + +George laughed. "Meaning yourself, Rosie?" + +"Sure I mean myself. I don't mind saying that I consider myself very far +from a born fool. I'm not a bit ashamed of being sensible. Janet +McFadden always says that I'm not very smart but that I've got lots of +common sense. Danny Agin thinks so, too. He often consults me about +things." Rosie nodded complacently. + +George chuckled. "I'm with Janet and Danny all right. I always did swear +by you, Rosie!" + +"Then why don't you do as I tell you?" Rosie faced him squarely. "It +would be very much better for you!" + +For a moment George looked at her in affectionate amusement. Then his +face grew serious as her own. "All right, Rosie, I will. You're right: I +have made a bad mess of things with Ellen. It couldn't be worse. So +here's my promise: for the rest of the time I'm here, I'll do just +exactly as you say." + +Rosie beamed her approval. "And I promise you, Jarge, you won't be +sorry!" + +In all formality they shook hands over the bargain. + +"Now then," George began briskly, "what's the first thing I'm to do?" + +Rosie hesitated. "I haven't exactly thought it out yet." + +"Huh! So it ain't so awful easy even for you to be sensible!" He peeped +at her slyly. + +"I want to think things over carefully," Rosie explained, "and I want to +ask Danny Agin's advice." George gave a grunt of protest, so Rosie +hastened to add: "Of course I won't use your name. I'll just put the +case to Danny in a sort of general way and, before he guesses what I +really mean, he'll be telling me what I want to know. Oh, I wouldn't +mention your name for anything!" + +George chuckled. "I'm sure you wouldn't!" He stood up. "Well, +good-night, kid. It's time for both of us to get to bed. And say, Rosie, +I'm awful glad you're back. I've had a bad time since you've been gone. +Everything's went wrong. Now you're back, I feel better already.... +Good-night." + +They were all glad she was back! In the sunshine of so much +appreciation, Rosie's heart felt like a little flower bursting into +bloom. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +JANET USES STRONG LANGUAGE + + +Night brought back to Mrs. O'Brien her usual serenity. Given a little +time she always worked around to serenity, even after blows such as +Ellen's lost job. The next morning, while George Riley ate his +breakfast, she was able to talk about it without a trace of her first +despair. + +"Have you heard, Jarge, the frightful experience poor Ellen had at that +office? Her boss was one of them unreasonable fussy old men that would +worry any poor girl to death. Ellen stood it for two days and then she +told him she'd just have to give up. They were so awfully sorry to lose +her that they paid her a whole week's wages. I tell her she done quite +right not trying to stick it out under such conditions. 'Twould make an +old woman of her in no time. As I says to her, 'The game ain't worth the +candle. And what's more,' says I, 'what with your fine looks and your +fine education you won't be any time getting another job.' And she +won't. I'm sure of that. She was awfully afraid we'd be blaming her, but +'Make your mind easy,' I says to her. 'You've done just exactly what +your poor da and I would have advised you to do.' Oh, I tell you, +Jarge, in these days a poor girl has to mind her P's and Q's or they'll +impose on her! You know that's so, Jarge." + +Rosie sighed. Three weeks had made no change in her mother's character. +Whatever Ellen or any of her children might be guilty of, within +twenty-four hours Mrs. O'Brien would be sure to find them blameless and +even praiseworthy. + +Rosie was glad to see that George Riley, in spite of his infatuation, +was not entirely taken in. He smiled to himself a little grimly. "So +she's lost her job already, has she?" + +Mrs. O'Brien demurred: "'Tain't quite fair to the poor girl to say she +lost her job. What Ellen done was this: she resigned her position." + +George glanced at Rosie and she, to make sure he understood, wrinkled +her nose and shook her head. "I'll tell you about it sometime," she +remarked carelessly. + +"She's off shopping this morning," Mrs. O'Brien continued. "I told her +not to go back to them offices for a couple of days. She needs a little +rest and once she gets a good steady job goodness knows when she'll ever +again have a moment to herself. So I'm wanting her to get her shopping +done while she can." + +"You see, Jarge," Rosie explained; "she needs a lot of new clothes and +now that she's making money she can buy them herself. She's going to get +a new hat, too. She doesn't like that last new hat." Rosie tried to use +a tone that would sound guileless to her mother and yet tell George all +there was to tell. + +With her mother at least she was successful. "You must remember," Mrs. +O'Brien went on, "a girl in her position has got to dress mighty well or +they'll be taking advantage of her. So I says to her, 'Now, Ellen dear, +just get yourself a nice new hat and anything else you need. Don't mind +any board money this week.' You know, Jarge, she's going to begin paying +three dollars a week regular. Don't you call that pretty fine for a poor +girl who is just starting out in life? You mustn't forget, Jarge, that +all you pay yourself is five dollars a week." + +"Yes, but the difference is he really pays it!" Rosie could not resist +stating this fact even at risk of hurting her mother's feelings. + +The risk was a safe one. Mrs. O'Brien only smiled blandly. "'Tis no +difference at all, Rosie dear. Come next week, Ellen'll be really paying +it, too. She gave me her word she would." + +A mother's faith in her offspring is touching and very beautiful. It is +even more: it is as it should be. Nevertheless it is usually wearisome +to outsiders. In this case, Rosie's point of view was that of an +outsider. She stood her mother's eulogy of Ellen as long as she could +and then, to avoid an outburst, she fled. She ventured back once or +twice but not to stay, as Ellen continued to be the theme of her +mother's conversation and George, poor victim, seemed not to realize how +bored he was. + +Rosie began to think that her second day home was in a fair way of being +spoiled. As the morning wore away she found another grievance. + +"Terry," she said, "I don't know what has become of Janet. She promised +to be here first thing this morning. I suppose her father's been beating +her up again." + +"Did you know," Terry asked, "that Dave McFadden got pulled in while you +were away? He was fined ten dollars." + +"Wisht he'd been sent up for ten years!" Rosie declared. "Mis' McFadden +and Janet would be much better off without him!" + +Dear, dear! Taken by and large this poor old world is pretty full of +trouble! Rosie sighed deeply, wondering how she was going to bear the +burden of it all. + +She waited for Janet until afternoon, when it was time for her to go +about her business as paper-carrier. She was sure now that something +serious had happened to Janet. To the child of a man like Dave McFadden +something serious might happen almost any time. On the first part of her +route Rosie gave herself up to all sorts of horrible imaginings. Then, +in the excitement of a long talk with Danny Agin on the subject of +George Riley, she forgot Janet and did not think of her again until she +reached home. + +Janet was there on the porch awaiting her. + +"Poor Janet's in trouble," Mrs. O'Brien began at once. + +This was evident enough from the expression of Janet's face. + +"What is it, Janet? What's happened?" Rosie put a sympathetic arm about +Janet's shoulder and peered anxiously into her somber eyes. + +"Her poor ma's been took sick," Mrs. O'Brien continued. + +"Oh, Janet, I'm sorry! Is it serious?" + +"Horspital," Mrs. O'Brien announced. + +"Hospital!" Rosie repeated. Then it was serious! "When did it happen, +Janet?" + +"This morning." Janet spoke quietly in a tired colourless voice. + +"Were you at home, Janet?" + +"No. On the street." + +"Did they send for an ambulance?" + +"Yes." + +"Did they take you to the hospital, too?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, Janet, what did the doctor say?" + +"He said lots of things." + +"Didn't he say your mother would be all right soon?" + +"He said that depends." + +"What does it depend on, Janet?" + +Janet laughed, a weak pathetic little laugh that had no mirth in it. "He +said she might get well again if she didn't have to work or worry any +more. Huh! It's easy to say a thing like that to a poor woman that's got +to work or starve, but it would be a good deal more sensible if they'd +say right out: 'You better go drown yourself!'" + +"Why, Janet!" Mrs. O'Brien's hands went up in shocked amazement. + +"I mean it!" Janet insisted fiercely. "Do you suppose my mother works +like she does because she wants to? I'd like to see that doctor married +to a drunk and have some one say to him: 'Now don't work or worry and +you'll be all right.'" + +Mrs. O'Brien was much distressed. "Why, Janet dear, you surprise me to +be talkin' so about that poor doctor." + +"The doctor!" Janet turned on Mrs. O'Brien passionately. "I'm not +talking about the doctor! I'm talking about my father!" She paused an +instant, then flung out a terrible epithet which even in the mouth of a +rough man would have been shocking. + +Instinctively Rosie shrank and Mrs. O'Brien raised a startled, +disapproving hand. + +Janet tossed her head defiantly. "I don't care!" she insisted. "It's all +his fault, the drunken brute, and if my mother dies tonight, it'll be +him that's murdered her!" She ended with a sob and hid her face on +Rosie's shoulder. + +Mrs. O'Brien, still scandalised, opened her mouth to speak. But the +right word which would express both reproof and commiseration was slow +in coming, and at last she was forced to meet the difficulty by fleeing +it. "I--I think I must be going in. I think I hear Geraldine. Sit still, +Rosie dear." And then, her heart getting the better of her, she ended +with: "Poor child! She's not herself today! Comfort her, Rosie!" + +Rosie scarcely needed her mother's admonition. "There now, Janet dear, +don't cry! Your mother's going to be all right--I know she is! She's +been sick before and got over it." + +Janet was not a person of tears. She swallowed her sobs now and slowly +dried her eyes. "I'm sorry I used such strong language, Rosie, honest I +am. And before your mother, too! You've got to excuse me. I know it +wasn't ladylike." + +"That's all right, Janet. You really didn't mean it." + +"Yes, I did mean it," Janet declared truthfully. "If you only knew it, +Rosie, there are lots of times I don't feel a bit ladylike! I often use +cuss words inside to myself. Don't you?" + +No, most emphatically, Rosie did not! She was saved, however, the +necessity of having to acknowledge so embarrassing an evidence of +feminine weakness by Janet's further pronouncement: + +"I tell you what, Rosie, when you come to a place where you want to +smash things up, a good big cuss word just helps an awful lot! Don't you +think so?" + +Rosie cleared her throat a little nervously. "Yes, Janet, I suppose it +does." + +"You bet it does! And what's more, women have got just as much right to +use it as men, haven't they?" + +Rosie wanted to cry out: "I don't think they want to! I know I don't!" +but, under Janet's fiery glance, the words that actually spoke +themselves were: "Yes, of--of course they have." + +With the hearty agreement of every one present, there was no more to be +said on that subject. Janet turned to another. + +"Rosie, will you do something for me? Come and stay all night with me. +I'll be so lonely I don't know what I'll do." + +Rosie's heart sank. If she spent the night with Janet, she'd have no +chance to talk to George Riley, for she'd be gone long before he got +home. Besides, there was Dave McFadden, and the thought of sleeping near +him was almost terrifying. + +"But, Janet dear, how about your father?" + +"Oh, I suppose he'll come in soused as usual. But you won't be bothered. +I'll get him off to bed before you come and he'll be safe till morning. +Please say you'll come, Rosie. I need you, honest I do." + +That was true: Janet did need her. George Riley would have to wait. + +"All right, Janet. I'll come." + +"Thanks, Rosie. I knew you would." Janet paused. "And, Rosie, do you +think you could lend me a quarter? I've got to have some money for +breakfast. Mother had a dollar in her pocket but I forgot about it at +the hospital." + +"I haven't a cent, Janet, but I'll raise a quarter somewhere, from Terry +or from dad, and I'll bring it with me tonight." + +Janet stood up to go. "Come about eight o'clock, Rosie." + +Rosie looked at her friend compassionately. "Why don't you stay here for +supper?" + +Janet shook her head. "I'd like to but I don't think I'd better. He +probably won't come home, but he might come and I better be on hand." + +Janet started off slowly and reluctantly. Twice she turned back a face +so woebegone and desolate that it went to Rosie's heart and, after a few +moments, sent her flying for comfort to her mother's ample bosom. + +Mrs. O'Brien gathered her in as if were the most natural thing in the +world. "What is it, Rosie darlint? What's troublin' you?" + +"Ma," she sobbed, "you're well, aren't you?" + +"Me, Rosie dear, am I well, do you say?" Mrs. O'Brien looked into +Rosie's tearful eyes in astonishment. + +"Yes, Ma, you! I want you to be well--always--all the time! You see, Ma, +Janet's poor mother----" + +"Ah, and is it that that's troublin' you?" Mrs. O'Brien crooned, +rocking Rosie from side to side as though she were Geraldine. "Don't you +be worryin' your little head about your poor ma. I'm fine and well, +thank God, and your poor da is well, and Terry's well, and Jackie's +well, and poor wee Geraldine is well, and dear Ellen's well, and we're +all----" + +"Ellen!" snorted Rosie, her tears abruptly ceasing to flow and her body +drawing itself away from her mother's embrace. + +"Dear Ellen's well, too," Mrs. O'Brien in all innocence repeated. + +"Oh, I know she's well all right!" Rosie declared in tones which even +her mother recognised as sarcastic. + +"Why, Rosie," Mrs. O'Brien began, "I'm surprised----" + +But Rosie, without waiting to hear the end of her mother's reproach, +marched resolutely off with all the dignity of a high chin and a stiff +military gait. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE CASE OF DAVE McFADDEN + + +Promptly at eight o'clock Rosie reached the tenement where the McFaddens +lived. Janet was on the front steps waiting for her. + +"Shall we sit out here awhile?" Janet said, making place for Rosie +beside herself. + +Rosie hesitated a moment. "Is your father home?" + +"Yes. He came in an hour ago. I got him off to bed as soon as I could. +He's asleep now." + +"Are--are you sure he won't wake up and make trouble?" + +Janet laughed. "Yes, I'm sure. We won't hear anything from him till +morning except snorts and groans. I guess I know." + +On the steps of the neighbouring tenements there were groups of people +laughing, talking, wrangling. The electric street lamps cast great +patches of quivering jumping light and heavy masses of deep pulsating +shadow. Janet and Rosie, seated alone, were near enough their neighbours +not to feel cut off from the outside world and yet, in the seclusion of +a dark shadow, far enough away to talk freely on the subject uppermost +in their thoughts. + +"You've never heard me say anything about my father before, Rosie, you +know you haven't." Janet paused to sigh. "Mother never has, either. +We've both always let on that he's all right and we've covered him up +and lied about him and done everything we could to keep people from +knowing how he really treats us. If this hadn't happened to mother, I +wouldn't be talking yet. Say, Rosie, ain't women fools? That's the way +they always act about their own men folks. They're willing to shoot any +other man for nothing at all, but they let on that their own men are +just angels. You know--the way I've always done about dad. But, since +today, seems like I don't care any more. And I've made up my mind to one +thing: he's going to hear the truth from me tomorrow morning if he kills +me for it." + +"Janet!" Rosie did not relish at all the thought of being present at a +family conference of so private a nature. + +"Yes, and you're going to hear it, too, Rosie. If we were alone, he +might pay attention or he might not. But with an outsider hearing things +he'll know quick enough that I mean business." + +"Janet, I don't know how you can talk that way. He's your father, you +know." + +Janet nodded grimly. "Yes, he's my father all right. You know it and I +know it, but he seems to have forgotten it. I'll remind him of it +tomorrow." + +Rosie reached out a little timidly. "I don't like to interfere, Janet, +but it seems to me you're only making things harder for yourself. Don't +you know it makes you kind o' sick inside to let yourself get so mad at +any one?" + +Janet sighed wearily. "Yes, I suppose it does, but I've been that way so +long I don't know how it feels to be any other way." + +Presently Rosie said: "Tell me, Janet, has he always boozed like this?" + +Janet shook her head. "No, not always. I can remember when things were +different. I was a pretty big kid, too. We had a little house like yours +and good furniture. You know he's a fine machinist and makes good money. +He used to make four dollars a day. He can always get work yet but he +don't keep it like he used to." + +"And didn't he booze then, Janet?" + +"Yes, a little but not very much. Ma says he'd come home full maybe once +a month and smash things around, but after that he'd sober up and be all +right for a long time. Oh, we were comfortable then and ma and me had +good clothes and if ma didn't feel very well she'd hire some one to do +the washing. I remember I had a pretty jumping rope and a big ball. It +wasn't more than five or six years ago. And look at us now!" + +Rosie sighed sympathetically. "I wonder what it was that started him +that way?" + +Janet was able to tell. "You know, Rosie, that's a funny thing. Miss +Harris from the Settlement was in here one day asking ma and I heard +what ma said. Dad fell and broke a leg and was laid up for a long time. +Then they found it hadn't been set right and they broke it over again. +So that kept him out of work ever so many more weeks. They had always +been spenders, both of them, and they hadn't so very much money put by, +so, just to keep things together while dad was idle, ma began going out +to work. She's a fine cleaner and laundress, so of course she could +always get good places. Then, after dad got well, she kept on working +because they were in debt and then--I don't know how it happened--the +first thing ma knew dad was drinking up his money and she's been working +ever since. He used to pay the rent but he don't even do that any more." + +Janet talked on as she had never talked before. Not much of what she +said was new to Rosie, for the private life of the poor is lived in +public, and Mrs. Finnegan has no need to explain to the neighbours the +little commotion that took place in her rooms the night before, since +the neighbours have all along known as much about it as herself. What +Rosie had not known before was Janet's real attitude toward her father. +Janet's likes had always seemed to Rosie a little fearsome in their +intensity; her hate, as Rosie saw it now, was appalling. Compared to +Janet's feelings, Rosie's own appeared childish, almost babyish. If +brought to trial, she would, no doubt, have fought for them, but like a +kitten rather than a tiger. In Janet the tiger was already well grown. + +Listening to Janet, Rosie shuddered. "I wish you wouldn't talk that way, +Janet. It's kind of murderous!" + +"Murderous?" Janet repeated. "What if it is? That's just how I feel +sometimes. Right now when I think of ma lying there in the hospital, for +two cents I'd go upstairs and choke him to death! What would it matter, +anyway, if he never woke up? Just one less drunkard in the world--that's +all. I guess there'd be plenty enough of them left." + +Rosie held out imploring hands. "Janet, if you keep on talking like that +I'll have to go home! I'll be too scared to sleep with you!" + +Janet was contrite. "Aw, now, Rosie, don't say that. I'm only talking, +and I won't even talk any more tonight. Anyhow, it's time for bed." + +The McFadden home consisted of two rooms: a front living room and a +small back bedroom. The living room was everything its name implied: it +had in it sink, wash-tub, stove, eating table, and the bed where Janet +and her mother slept. The little back room, lighted and ventilated from +a shaft, was where Dave slept. + +The sound of him and the smell of him filled both rooms and seemed to +rush out into the hallway as Janet and Rosie pushed open the door. + +"Ugh!" Rosie gasped, and Janet, who had struck a match and was reaching +for a candle, paused to say, over her shoulder: "If you want me to, +I'll shut his door." + +Rosie would have liked nothing better but a humanitarian consideration +restrained her. "Wouldn't he smother in there with the door shut?" + +"Maybe he would." + +Janet spoke so indifferently that Rosie felt that she herself must bear +the whole burden of responsibility. + +"Guess you had better leave it as it is, Janet. I suppose I'll be able +to stand it once I get used to it." + +Rosie said this, but in her own mind she was perfectly sure she could +never sleep in such an atmosphere. She repeated this to herself many +times and very emphatically, while she was undressing and afterwards +when she was in bed. + +"If you're careful," Janet instructed her, "and lie over just a little +bit near the edge, you won't hit the broken spring. Now good-night, +dear, and sleep tight." + +Sleep tight, indeed, with that brute in there snorting like an engine +and one's back nearly broken in two stretching over sharp peaks and +yawning precipices! My! what would Rosie not have given to be at home in +her own bed! Not that her own bed was any marvel of comfort. It was not. +But it was her own--that was the great thing. People like their own +things--their own beds, their own homes, their own families. How Rosie +loved hers! There was her father for whom her heart overflowed in a +sudden gush of tenderness. Jamie O'Brien was so quiet and unobtrusive +that Rosie often forgot him. It needed the contrast of a Dave McFadden +to awaken in her a realization of his gentle worth. And, if you only +knew it, there wasn't a more generous-hearted soul on earth than Maggie +O'Brien. And where was there a prettier or a sweeter baby than +Geraldine? And Jackie was a nice kid, too. He was! And Terry---- Terry's +nobility of character could only be expressed orally with a sigh, +graphically with a dash.... Of course there was Ellen.... I suppose +every family has to have at least one disagreeable member.... Wouldn't +it be a great idea if all families just bunched together their +disagreeable members and sent 'em off somewhere alone where they +wouldn't be of any further nuisance? To the Great American Desert, for +instance! To such a scheme Rosie would gladly contribute Ellen and Janet +might contribute her father. The longer Rosie considered the plan, the +more sensible it seemed to her. She was surprised she hadn't thought of +it sooner. She would discuss it with Janet in the morning.... Yes, +morning--morning. Then dream and waking flowed together and she felt +Janet patting her arm and she heard Janet's voice saying, "Morning! It's +morning, Rosie! Wake up!" + +Rosie opened her eyes with a pop. "Why, I've been asleep, haven't I?" + +"I should think you had!" Janet told her. "You've been laughing and +talking to yourself to beat the band. It's time to get up now. I want +you to go to the grocery and, while you're out, I'll get him up." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +JANET TO HER OWN FATHER + + +When Rosie got back from the grocery, Dave McFadden was washing his face +at the sink. He paid no attention to Rosie and, in fact, seemed not to +see her until he sat down to breakfast. Then he looked at her in +surprise. + +"Why, hello, Rosie! Where did you come from?" + +He was a large powerfully built man, dark, with sombre cavernous eyes +and a gaunt face. His voice was not unkind nor was his glance. + +Rosie spoke to him politely: "Good-morning, Mr. McFadden." + +"Rosie's been here all night," Janet announced. + +"All night!" Dave looked around a little startled. "Where's your +mother?" + +"My mother?" Janet spoke indifferently. "Oh, she's at the hospital. +She's been there since yesterday morning. I tried to tell you about her +last night." + +Dave put down his coffee cup heavily. "What's the matter with her?" + +"The doctor said it was overwork and worry." + +"Overwork and worry! What are you talking about? They don't put people +in the hospital for overwork and worry!" Dave spoke with a rising +irritation. "Can't you tell me something that's got some sense to it?" + +Janet answered casually as though relating an adventure that in no way +touched herself. "I can tell you the whole thing if you want to hear it. +We were on the street going to Mrs. Lamont's for the washing when +suddenly ma jumped and her hands went up and she shook, and I looked +where she was looking because I thought there must be a snake or +something on the sidewalk. Then, before I knew what was happening, she +screamed and fell and her eyes began rolling and she bit with her mouth +until her lips were all bloody and her head jerked around and--and--it +was awful!" With a sob in which there was left no pretence of +indifference, Janet put her hands before her face to shut out the horror +of the scene. + +The details were as new to Rosie as to Dave. Janet had not even hinted +that it was _this_ which had happened to her mother. + +Dave McFadden breathed heavily. "Then what?" + +Janet took her hands from her face and, with a fresh assumption of +indifference, continued: "Oh, a crowd gathered, of course, and after +while a policeman came, and then the ambulance. And while we were in the +ambulance she--had another. And when we got to the hospital--another. It +was awful!" Janet dropped her head on the table and sobbed. + +"Well?" demanded Dave gruffly. + +Janet stifled her sobs. "They undressed her and put her to bed and gave +her something and she went to sleep. Then the doctor took me into +another room and wrote down what he said was a history of ma's case and +he asked me questions about everything." + +Dave McFadden's sombre gaze wandered off unhappily about the room. "What +did you tell him?" + +Janet's answer came a little slowly: "I told him everything." + +Dave looked at her sharply. "Tell me what you told him!" + +"All right. I'll tell you." There was a hint of unsteadiness in Janet's +voice but no sign of wavering in her manner. Her eyes stared across at +her father as sombre almost as his own. "He said from the looks of her +he thought ma was all run down from overwork and worry. I told him she +was. Then he asked me why and I told him why.... I told him my father +made good money but boozed every cent. I told him my mother had to +support herself and me and even had to feed my father. I told him that +when my father was sober he was cross and grouchy but he didn't hurt us +and that, when he came home drunk, he'd kick us or beat us or do +anything he could to hurt us." + +With a roar like the roar of an angry animal, Dave McFadden reached +across the table and clutched Janet roughly by the shoulder. "You told +him that, you--you little skunk!" + +His fury, instead of cowing Janet, roused her to like fury. + +"Yes!" she shouted shrilly. "That's exactly what I told him and it's +exactly what I'm going to tell everybody! I'm never going to tell +another lie about you, Dave McFadden! Do you hear me? Never!" + +At the unexpectedness of her attack, Dave's anger and strength seemed to +flow from him like water. His clutch relaxed; he fell back weakly into +his chair. For a moment confusion covered him utterly. Then he tried to +speak and at last succeeded in voicing that ancient reproach with which +unworthy parenthood has ever sought to beguile the just reproof of +outraged offspring: "And is this the way you talk to your own father? +Your--own--father!" Had he been a little drunk, he would have wept. As +it was, even to himself, his words seemed not to ring very true. + +Janet regarded him scornfully. "Yes, that's exactly the way I talk to my +own father!" She paused and her eyes blazed anew. "And there's one +thing, Dave McFadden, that I want to tell you." She stood up from the +table and walked around to her father's place. "When you come in sober, +as cross as a bear and without a word in your mouth for any one, ma and +me hustle about to make you comfortable and don't even talk to each +other for fear of riling you. Yes, we're so thankful you're not drunk +that we crawl around like two little dogs just waiting to lick your hand +and tell you how good you are. Then, when you come home drunk, wanting +to kill some one, we do our best to coax you in here to keep you from +getting mixed up with the neighbours. We're terribly careful to save the +neighbours, and why? So's you won't get arrested. But do we ever save +ourselves? There's never a time when I'm not black and blue all over +with the bruises you give me--kicking me and pinching me and knocking me +down." + +In his senses Dave McFadden was not an unkind man, but most of the time +he was not in his senses. Janet's tirade now seemed to be affecting him +much as cheap whiskey did. He staggered to his feet and raised +threatening hands. + +"You little slut! If you don't shut up, I--I'll choke you!" + +But Janet was far past any intimidation. She stood her ground calmly. +"All right! Go ahead and choke! The thing I've made up my mind to tell +you, Dave McFadden, is this: I'll never again lick your boots when +you're sober nor run from you when you're drunk. Kill me now if you want +to! Go on! You've probably killed ma and if she's lying there in the +hospital dead this minute, I wish you would kill me! Then you could go +drown yourself and that would be the end of all of us!" + +Dave McFadden groaned. "For God's sake," he implored, "can't you let up +on me?" + +Janet looked at him steadily. "Have you ever let up on us?" + +He stared about helplessly and asked, with the querulousness, almost, of +a child: "What is it you want me to do? Do you want me to go to the +hospital to see her?" + +Janet laughed drearily. "They wouldn't let you in. I asked the doctor +did he want you to come and he said, no, the sight of you would probably +give her another attack." + +Dave shuffled uneasily. "Then I suppose I might as well go to work." + +"Yes," Janet agreed, "you might as well go to work. But before you go, +will you please give me a quarter? I borrowed a quarter from Rosie to +buy your breakfast." + +Dave put his hand in his pocket and found a quarter. He flipped it +across the table. "Here's your money, Rosie." + +"And if you want me to get any supper for you," Janet went on, "you'll +have to give me some money, too." + +Dave hesitated. He was not accustomed to paying the household expenses. +Before he realized what he was saying, he asked: "Hasn't your mother any +money?" Under the instant fire of Janet's scorn, he saw his mistake and +reddened with shame. + +"Yes," Janet told him grimly, "she's got one dollar and I'll see you +starve to death before I touch one cent of it for you! If you want any +supper, you pay for it yourself; and you'll pay for mine, too, if I get +any. If I don't get any, it won't be the first time." + +Dave slowly emptied his pocket. He had a two-dollar bill, a fifty-cent +piece, and some small change. "Here," he said, offering Janet the bill +and the fifty-cent piece. "Will that suit you?" + +Janet took the money but refused to be placated. "It ain't what will +suit me or won't suit me. You know as well as I do what's fair and +square, and that's all there is to it. And while we're on money," she +continued, "I might as well tell you if you don't pay five dollars on +the rent we'll be dispossessed next Monday. On account of ma being sick +so much lately we've dropped behind four weeks and the agent won't wait +any longer." + +Dave swallowed hard. "This is all I got till Saturday." + +"Are you sure you'll have any more on Saturday?" + +Dave looked hurt. "Won't I have a whole week's wages?" + +"I don't know." Janet spoke without any feeling as one merely stating a +fact. "Most weeks, you know, you're in debt to the saloon, and when you +pay up there on Saturday afternoon you haven't much left by night." + +Dave smothered an oath. It was plain that he thought he had done a very +handsome thing in passing over the greater part of his money. It was +also plain that he had expected a grateful "Thank you." And what did he +feel he was receiving? An insult! He looked at Janet in sullen +resentment. "You're a nice one, you are, talking that way to your own +father! I tell you one thing, though: you wouldn't talk that way if your +mother was around. She's got a heart, she has! All you've got is a +turnip!" + +At mention of her mother, Janet choked a little. "My mother don't think +my heart's a turnip and Rosie don't, either. All I've got to say is, if +it looks like a turnip to you, it's because you've changed it into one +yourself." + +To this Dave made no answer. Without further words he could better +preserve the expression of grieved and unappreciated parenthood. +Whatever he may have done or may not have done in the past, just now he +had been noble and generous. And would his own child acknowledge this? +No! He bore her no grudge; his face very plainly said so; but he was +hurt, deeply hurt. Under cover of the hurt, he opened the door quietly +and made his escape. + +In Janet the fires of indignation flickered and went out, leaving her +cold and lifeless. She threw herself into a chair and folded her hands. + +"You certainly did give it to him straight, Janet!" Rosie spoke in tones +of deep admiration. + +Janet laughed scornfully. "Give it to him straight! Oh, yes, I gave it +to him straight all right!" She shivered and clenched her hands. "I can +talk! That's where we come in strong. Take the women in this tenement +and they've all got tongues as sharp as ice-picks. Any one of them can +talk a man to death. But what does it all amount to? Nothing! I tell +you, Rosie, they've got the bulge on us, for, as soon as we make things +hot for them, all they've got to do is clear out!" Janet sighed +unhappily. "Then they pay us back by not coming home and when they get +injured or pulled in it all comes out that it's our fault because we +haven't made home pleasant for them. Huh! They always make it so awful +pleasant for us, don't they?" + +Rosie felt helpless and uncomfortable. Her own life had problems of its +own but, compared to Janet's, how trivial they seemed, how +inconsequential. And, by a like comparison, how inviting her own home +suddenly appeared. She thought of it, ordinarily, as an overcrowded +untidy little house where everybody was under every one else's feet. Not +so this morning. This morning it was home as home should be, the centre +of a very real family life supported by a father's industry and a +mother's devotion. They were poor, of course, but not overwhelmingly so, +for they had enough to eat and enough to wear. And, best of all, they +loved each other. In the past Rosie had not always known this, but she +knew it now. They loved each other and, without thinking anything about +it, they were ready to stand by each other. Beneath all family discord +there was a harmony, a family harmony, the burden of which was: all for +one and one for all. A wave of homesickness swept over Rosie. She wanted +to be off without the loss of another moment. Her hands reached out +eagerly for the many tasks, the dear, the wearying tasks that were +awaiting them. + +"Well, Janet, I'm sorry, but I think I must go. You know Geraldine has +to have her bath and I've got to go marketing. If you hurry, though, +I'll help with the dishes first." + +"No," Janet said. "You run along if you have to. I can do the dishes +alone." + +Rosie paused a moment longer. "You know if you want to you can come and +have dinner with us, Janet." + +Janet shook her head. "Thanks, but I won't have time. I've got to go to +all of mother's customers and tell them she's sick, and I go to the +hospital early in the afternoon." + +"Then when will I see you?" + +"I don't know unless you come and sleep with me again tonight." + +"I don't see how I can, Janet." At that moment the thought of spending +another night away from her beloved family was more than Rosie could +bear. "You know, Janet, I've got so many things to do at home. +Geraldine needs me all the time and so does ma and----" + +"Yes, yes, Rosie, I understand. And I don't blame you one bit for liking +it better at home." + +"I didn't mean that at all!" Rosie declared; "honest I didn't!" + +"That's all right," Janet assured her. "I like it better over at your +house myself. It was good of you coming last night. I was kind o' scared +last night and I didn't want to be alone with him." + +Rosie was concerned. "You won't be scared tonight, will you?" + +"Do you mean of him?" + +Rosie nodded. + +"No. And what's more, Rosie, I don't believe I'll ever again be scared +of him. He's not going to bother me any more. Couldn't you see that this +morning?... Funny thing, Rosie: I used to think if only I wasn't afraid +of him I'd be perfectly happy and now, when I'm not afraid of him any +longer and when he'll probably never touch me again, I don't seem to +care much." + +Rosie shook her head emphatically. "Well, I tell you one thing, Janet +McFadden: I care. I couldn't go to sleep tonight if I thought you were +here alone getting beaten up." + +Janet looked at her friend affectionately. "You needn't worry about me. +I'll be all right. Good-bye, Rosie dear, and thanks." + +"Good-bye, Janet, and come when you can." + +From the speed with which Rosie hurried home, it would never have been +guessed that she was merely returning to a round of endless duties and +petty worries. Her eyes shone, her little woman face was all aglow with +the joyous eagerness of one whose course was leading straight to +happiness. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +DANNY'S SUGGESTION + + +Mrs. O'Brien received her daughter with open arms. + +"Ah, Rosie dear, I'm glad to see you! And I can't tell you the fuss +they've all been making at your absence.... Yes, Geraldine darlint, +sister Rosie's come back at last." + +Rosie took the baby and hugged and kissed her as though she had not seen +her for weeks. "And are you glad to see Rosie?" she crooned. + +"She is that!" Mrs. O'Brien declared. "And himself, Rosie, was +complainin' the whole evening about your not being here. And Terry, too, +he kept askin' where you were. And Jarge Riley, Rosie! Why, Jarge is +fairly lost without you! He was in early this morning and just now when +I was startin' to get him his breakfast, he stopped me. And what for, do +you think? He wanted to wait to see if you wouldn't be coming back. Why, +Rosie, I do believe that b'y thinks that no one can boil coffee or fry +eggs equal to yourself!" + +Rosie glowed all over. "Ma, is he really waiting for me?... Here, +Geraldine dear, you go to ma for a few minutes. Rosie's got to get Jarge +Riley's breakfast. I'll be back soon, won't I, Ma?" + +"And, Rosie dear, before you go, such a bit of news as I have: Ellen's +got a new job! They sent for her from the college. Now I do say it's a +fine compliment for any girl to be sent for like that. Ah, they know the +stuff that's in Ellen! As I says to her last night----" + +"Tell me the rest some other time," Rosie begged. "You know Jarge is +waiting." + +"To be sure he is," Mrs. O'Brien agreed. "He's in his room. Give him a +call as you go by." + +In answer to her summons George appeared at once, collarless and in +shirtsleeves with the drowsiness of an interrupted nap in his eyes. He +beamed on Rosie affectionately. + +"I thought you'd be coming." + +"It was awful good of you waiting for me, Jarge." + +"Good--nuthin'! Guess I know who can cook in this house!" + +Conscious worth need not be offensive. Rosie answered modestly: "Oh, I +cook much better than I used to, Jarge. I learned ever so much from your +mother. I know how to make pie now. We used to have pie every day in the +country." + +"I know." George sighed pathetically. + +Rosie was all sympathy. "I'll make you a pie this week, honest I will. +Which would you rather have, rhubarb or apple?" + +George weighed the choice while Rosie set out his breakfast. + +"Guess you might make it rhubarb this time," he decided at last; "and +apple next time." + +"Now then," Rosie said, pouring his coffee, "you eat and I'll sit down +and talk to you. I wanted to talk to you last night, but you know I had +to go off with poor Janet." + +George looked at her seriously. "I don't like your staying over there +all night. I don't think it's safe. Dave's all right when he's sober, +but they say he ain't sober much nowadays." + +"It was all right last night, Jarge. Janet had him in bed and asleep +before I got there." + +"Well, even so...." George grumbled on. + +"H'm," Rosie remarked a little pointedly. "Er--do you remember, Jarge, +what I was going to talk to you about last night?" + +George looked at her inquiringly. "Was it anything special?" + +"Don't you remember what you asked me to ask Danny Agin?" + +"I didn't know I asked you to ask him anything." George spoke in candid +surprise. + +"Oh, Jarge, what a poor memory you've got!" Rosie shook her head +despairingly. "You told me what a mess you had made of things with Ellen +and you asked my advice about what you ought to do and told me to talk +it over with Danny Agin. Now do you remember?" + +George did not seem to remember things in just the order that Rosie gave +them, but he was gallant enough not to say so and, furthermore, to show +his acceptance of her version by an interested: "Oh, is that what you +mean?" + +Rosie leaned toward him eagerly. "Don't you want to hear what Danny +said?" + +"Sure I do." + +"Well, Danny and me went over things very carefully and I agree with +Danny and Danny agrees with me. So, if you've got any sense, you'll do +just exactly what we tell you to." + +George looked a little dubious. "Don't know as I'm so awful strong on +sense. Shoot away, though. I'd like to hear what you want me to do." + +Rosie began impressively: "Danny says that the mistake you're making is +not going out and getting another girl. Ellen's so sure of you that of +course she don't take the least interest in you. All she's got to do is +crook her little finger and you're Johnny-on-the-spot. Now if you were +to get another girl and treat her real nice, Ellen wouldn't be long in +taking notice. That's the way girls are." Rosie wagged her head +knowingly. + +George dropped his knife. "Aw, shucks! Is that all you got to say?" + +Rosie's manner turned severe. "Now, Jarge Riley, you needn't say, 'Aw, +shucks!' What's more, I guess Danny Agin and me together have got more +sense than you have any day and we don't think it's shucks! Now you +listen to what I say and maybe you'll learn something." + +But George still seemed unwilling to learn. "Aw, what do I want to go +chasing girls for? I don't like 'em, and besides, 'tain't nuthin' but a +tomfool waste of time and money!" + +Rosie was scornful. "Is it because you're afraid of spending a cent?" + +George met the charge calmly. "I wouldn't be afraid to spend all I make +on the right girl, but with all the places I got to put money, just tell +me, please, what's the sense of my throwing it away on some girl I don't +care beans about?" + +"So's to get a chance at the girl you do care beans about!" Rosie was +emphatic. "Now I tell you one thing Jarge Riley: I don't think much of +Ellen and I think it would be a good deal better for you if she never +would look at you, but you're in love with her and you think you've got +to have her, and I've promised you I'd help you. Now: Are you going to +be sensible or aren't you?" + +George refused to commit himself. Instead he asked: "How much do you +reckon this fool scheme would cost a fellow?" + +Rosie was ready with a detailed estimate. "It would come to from five to +thirty cents every day." + +"Every day!" George was fairly outraged at the suggestion. "Do you mean +to say you've got the cheek to expect me to go sporting some fool girl +every day?" + +Rosie was firm. "That's exactly what I mean. I suppose you think the way +to make love to a girl is to give her an ice-cream soda once a month. +Well, it just ain't!" + +George continued obstinate. "I'm not saying I know how to make love to a +girl because I don't and, what's more, I don't care. But I'll be blamed +if I'm willing to do more than one ice-cream soda a month for any girl +alive!" + +Rosie caught him up sharply: "Not even for Ellen?" + +"Ellen! Ellen's different! I'd like to do something for her every day of +her life." + +"H'm! What, for instance?" + +"Well, I ain't got much money, so I can't do very big things, but I'd +like to take her to the movies or on a street-car ride or buy her some +peanuts or candy or all kinds o' little things like that. I know they +ain't much in themselves, but if a fellow does them all the time, it +seems to me a girl ought to know that he's thinking about her a good +deal." + +"Oh, Jarge, you're such a child!" Rosie smiled on him in womanly +amusement. "First you say you don't know how to make love and then you +tell just exactly how to do it! Now listen to me: The way to make love +to any girl is to treat her just like you'd like to treat Ellen. If +anything on earth is going to make Ellen wake up, it'll be just that. +And the very things you know how to do are the very things I was going +to tell you to do! A bag of peanuts is plenty for a walk and that's only +five cents. Then a night when you go to the movies would be ten cents +and, if it was hot, you'd probably want ten cents more for an ice-cream +soda afterwards and that would make twenty cents. If you took a car ride +and back, that would be twenty cents and a treat would be another ten +cents. And you'd be getting your money's worth while you were doing it +and perhaps you'd get Ellen, too." + +George was not very happy over the prospect. "As you've got everything +else fixed up for me," he grumbled, "I suppose you've got the girl +picked out, too. But I tell you one thing: I won't take after one of +them Slattery girls, no matter what you say! If a fellow was to give one +of them an ice-cream soda once, he'd have to marry her!" + +Rosie put out a quieting hand. "Now, Jarge, don't be silly! You don't +have to take one of the Slattery girls or any other girl that you don't +want to take. You can just suit yourself and no one's going to say a +word to you.... What kind of girl do you think you'd like? Do you want a +blonde? Well, there's Aggie Kearney, she's a blonde." + +"Aw, cut out Aggie Kearney! What do you think I am!" + +"Well, maybe you want a brunette. What about Polly Russell?" + +"Aw, cut out Polly Russell, too! You know what I think of that whole +Russell bunch!" + +Rosie looked a little hurt. "I must say, Jarge, even if you don't want +Polly, you needn't snap my head off. Make your own choice! I'm sure +there are enough girls right in this neighbourhood for any man to pick +from. How do you like 'em? Do you like 'em fat or do you like 'em thin? +Or maybe you don't want an American girl. Well, there are those Italians +around the corner and down further there's that nest of Yiddish. All +you've got to do is make up your mind about the kind of girl you want. +There's plenty of all kinds." + +"Aw, get out! I tell you I don't want any of them!" By this time George +had grown very red in the face and his voice had risen to a volume +better suited to the outdoors than to a small room. + +Rosie looked distressed. "You needn't talk so loud, Jarge. I'm not +deaf.... I must say, though, after all the trouble I've taken, ... And +poor old Danny Agin, too, ..." Rosie felt for her handkerchief. + +"Well," George complained, "I don't see why you go offering me the worst +old snags in town! Why don't you pick out a few nice ones?" + +Rosie swallowed quite pathetically and blinked her eyes toward the +ceiling. It has been observed that gazing fixedly at the ceiling very +often conduces to inspiration. Apparently it was to be so with Rosie. +The expression on her face slowly changed. She turned to George a little +shyly. + +"I was just wondering, Jarge, whether, maybe, _I_ wouldn't do." + +It must have been an inspiration! To attribute such a suggestion to +anything else would be to credit Rosie with a depth of guile which only +supreme feminine art could have compassed. + +George at least saw no guile. His face glowed. He actually shouted in an +exuberance of relief. "Would you, Rosie? That'd be fine! We'd have a +bully time together!" Then he paused. "But, Rosie, do you think you're +big enough? I wouldn't think Ellen would get jealous of a little girl +like you." + +Rosie shook her head reassuringly. "Don't you worry about me. I'm plenty +big enough. Besides, I don't count. You're the only one that counts. All +you've got to do is make love to almost any one. If it's some one you +like, then it'll be all the easier for you." + +"Well, you know I like you all right, Rosie." The heartiness in George's +tone was unmistakable. "I just love to spend money on you, Rosie! That's +a great idea! Who thought of it, Danny or you?" + +"Not Danny," Rosie answered promptly. "I thought of it myself--I mean," +she added, "I thought of it just now. And you think it's a good idea, do +you, Jarge?" + +"Good? You bet your life I think it's good! Why, do you know, Rosie, +when you began talking about Aggie Kearney and Polly Russell and those +Ginneys around the corner, you made me plumb sick! I was ready to throw +up the whole thing! I sure am glad you happened to think about yourself +on time!" + +"H'm!" murmured Rosie. + +"I mean it!" George insisted. "Let's start out tonight! What shall it +be, a street-car ride or the movies?" + +"Just as you say." Rosie, with sweet deference, put the whole thing into +George's hands. "They're going to give the 'Two Orphans' at the Gem. +Three reels. I saw the posters this morning. But you decide, Jarge. +Whatever you say will be all right." + +With a fine masterfulness George made the decision. "Well, I say movies +for tonight." He reached across the table and patted Rosie's face. +"Don't forget, kid, you're my girl now. And I tell you what: I'm going +to show you a swell time!" + +"It's just as you say, Jarge," Rosie murmured meekly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE SUBSTITUTE LADY + + +Rosie now entered upon a season of unparalleled gaiety. It was as if she +were being rewarded for her generosity in thinking not of herself nor of +her dislike for the object of George's fancy but only of George and of +his happiness. It had been something of a struggle in the first place to +advise a course of action which really might awaken in Ellen an +appreciation of George's worth. Well, Rosie had advised it in all +frankness and sincerity. That the putting into practice of this advice +was working out to Rosie's own advantage is neither here nor there. If, +in the campaign which she and Danny had planned, there had to be a +substitute lady, why, as an after-thought, should not Rosie herself be +that lady? + +With George, Rosie never forgot that the relationship was a substitute +one. Whenever he did something particularly lover-like, she would +commend him as a teacher commends an apt pupil: "Jarge, you certainly +are learning!" or, "I don't care what you say, Jarge, but if you were +really making love to me and acted this beautiful, you sure could have +me!" + +In giving him hints about new attentions, she never made the matter +personal. She would say, casually: "Now there's one thing a girl just +loves, Jarge, and you ought to know it. It's to have her beau do +unexpected things for her. I mean if he's used to giving her candy every +night, it just tickles her to death to get up some morning and find a +little package waiting for her. And if he goes to the trouble of +sticking in a little note that says: + + "'My dearest Sweetheart, I couldn't wait until to-night to give + you this....' + +why, she just goes crazy about him. Whatever you do, Jarge, you mustn't +forget that girls love to get notes all the time." + +This particular instruction Rosie had frequently to repeat before George +put it into execution. "Aw, now, Rosie," he used to plead, "you know +perfectly well I ain't nuthin' of a letter-writer." + +But Rosie was firm. "Do as you like," she would say, "but you can take +it from me they ain't nuthin' like letters to make a girl sit up. You're +practising on me, so you might as well practise right. Besides, it's not +hard, really it's not. You don't have to be fancy. Why, I once heard a +girl tell about a letter that she thought was great and all it said was, +'Say, kid, maybe I ain't crazy about you!' Now is it so awful hard to +tell a girl you're crazy about her if you are? And that's all that any +love-letter says anyhow." + +"Seems to me," George grumbled one day, "for a kid you know an awful lot +about love-letters." + +"Of course I do," Rosie told him. "I know just the kind I'd like to get +and that's the kind every girl would like to get." + +All such discussions took place in the privacy of their +pseudo-courtship. Who would have the heart to be censorious if, to the +outside world, Rosie began to bear herself with something of the air of +a lady who has a knight, of a girl who has a beau? It would have been +beyond human nature for Rosie not to remark periodically to Janet +McFadden: "What do you suppose it is that makes Jarge Riley treat me so +kind? He just seems to lie awake nights to think up nice things to do." + +Janet, being a true friend, would give a long sigh and murmur: "Don't it +beat all, Rosie, the way some girls have beaux from the beginning and +some don't. I suppose it runs in your family. You know Tom Sullivan is +always asking about you. Whenever I go to Aunt Kitty's or when Tom comes +to our house, the first thing he says is, 'How's Rosie O'Brien these +days?' If only he wasn't so bashful, he'd invite you to the movies--you +know he would. Of course he asks me because we're cousins, but I tell +you one thing, Rosie: you're the one he'd like to take." + +What Janet was always saying about Tom Sullivan's devotion to Rosie was +perfectly true but, nevertheless, it was so generous in Janet to +acknowledge it that Rosie was always ready to declare: "Aw, now, Janet, +you needn't go jollyin' me like that! Tom likes you awful well and you +know he does." + +Rosie never talked to Janet about her own round of pleasure without +stopping suddenly with a feeling of compunction and the quick question: +"But, Janet dear, how are things going with you? How's your poor mother +and is your father still on the water wagon?" + +News about Mrs. McFadden was slow in changing. For days she lay in the +hospital, weak and broken, not wishing to come back to life and without +interest in herself or her husband or even her child. A case like this +takes a long time, the nurse would tell Janet and Janet had only this to +repeat in answer to Rosie's inquiries. + +With Dave McFadden it was different. There the unexpected was happening. +It was a week before Janet risked speaking of it. Then, in awe-struck +tones, she confided to her friend. + +"Say, Rosie, what do you think? He hasn't had a drink since the day you +stayed all night with me. I don't know how long he can stand it. He +looks awful and he makes me give him about ten cups of tea at night. I +don't believe he sleeps more than half an hour." Not relief so much as a +new kind of fear showed in Janet's face and sounded in her voice. "And, +Rosie, he's just terrible to live with, because he never says a word.... +Don't it beat all the way you long and long for a thing and then, when +you get it, it turns out entirely different! There I used to suppose I'd +be perfectly happy if only he'd stop boozing but now, when I wake up at +night and hear him rolling around and groaning, why, do you know, Rosie, +it scares me to death. It's just like he's fighting something that I +can't see. And the worst is I can't do anything to help him but get up +and make him some more tea." + +Both Rosie and Janet were too familiar with Dave's type to hail as a +happy reformation those first days of struggle. They stood back and +waited, grateful for each day won but as yet not at all confident of the +morrow. + +"He certainly is trying," Rosie would say, and Janet would repeat, a +little dubiously, "Yes, he's trying." + +A day came when she looked tenser and more breathless than usual. "What +do you think, Rosie? He handed me over fifteen dollars this week and ten +last week that I didn't tell you about. I didn't want to too soon. All +he said was, 'You take care of this till your mother comes home.' I'm +paying up the back rent and I've started a savings account at the +Settlement." + +Rosie's eyes opened wide. "Well now, Janet, he certainly does deserve +credit!" As Janet made no comment, Rosie demanded: "Don't you think he +does?" + +Janet's answer was disconcerting. "Why does he deserve credit for doing +what he ought to do?" + +Rosie was a little hurt. "When a person does right, I don't see why +you're so afraid of giving them a little credit." + +"Rosie O'Brien, you're just like all the women! Let a good-for-nothing +drunk sober up for a day or two, and they all go saying, 'The poor +fellow! Ain't he fine! Ain't he noble! He certainly does deserve +credit!' But do you ever hear them giving any credit to the decent +hard-working men who support their families every day of the year? I've +never heard you say that your father deserved credit!" + +This was rather startling and Rosie could only answer stiffly, though +somewhat lamely: "My father's different!" + +"I should think he was different! And when he hands over money which +goes to support his own family, I see you and your mother and the rest +of you falling down on your knees and saying: 'Oh, thank you, dear +father! You are so noble!' Well, that's what you expect me to do to my +old man and that's what he expects, too, because for a week or so he's +been paying the bills he ought to pay. And when I don't say it I wish +you'd see how injured he looks." + +Rosie could not meet the logic of Janet's position, but logic is not +everything in this life. "I don't care what you say, Janet," she +persisted, "I don't think it would hurt you one bit to say 'Thank you' +to him." + +Janet started to answer again, then stopped with a laugh. "Tell you +what, Rosie, I promise you this: I'll say 'Thank you' to him as soon as +you say 'Thank you' to your father for the three meals you eat every +day, for the clothes you wear, for the house you live in." + +It was Rosie's turn to flare up. "Janet McFadden, you're crazy! Haven't +I a right to all those things? Don't I do my share of work in the +family?" + +"Yes, Rosie, you do and I'm not saying that you haven't every right to +them. But why don't you see that I've got the same right? Don't I work +as hard as you? And hasn't my poor mother worked harder than your mother +has ever worked? My father's got out of the way of supporting us, so I'm +not surprised that he thinks he's a wonder when he does it for a couple +of days, but search me if I see why you should think so, too, when your +father has always supported you without saying a word about it." Janet +paused, then ended with a rush: "Oh, don't you see, it would choke me to +say 'Thank you' to him with ma lying there in the hospital like a dead +woman! Why hasn't he always done this? There's nothing he can do now to +make up for all those years. It's too late! Even if she does get well, +she'll never be the same. The nurse told me." Janet hid her face in her +arm and dry gasping sobs began to shake her body. + +"Aw, now, Janet, don't!" Rosie begged. "I see what you mean and I don't +blame you--honest I don't." + +The issue that Janet had raised was a little beyond Rosie's +understanding, but Rosie did realize that Janet was right. Janet's point +of view often startled and dismayed her. As on this occasion she would +always begin disputing it vehemently and end meekly accepting it. + +If Rosie did not make Janet her confidante in regard to the attentions +she was receiving from George, it was because the true inwardness of +that affair was in the nature of a secret between her and Danny Agin. +Rosie was tremendously fond of Janet but, after all, Janet was not her +only friend. Danny Agin, too, had certain rights that must not be +forgotten. Besides, it must be confessed, it was sweet to hear Janet's +"Ohs!" and "Ahs!" over what seemed to be each new evidence of George's +devotion. + +Danny Agin was watching as keenly as Janet the little comedy which he +himself had set in motion. + +"So she looked at you like a black thunder-cloud, did she?" he had said, +with a chuckle, when Rosie had related Ellen's surprise and involuntary +chagrin at George's deflection. + +"Yes," Rosie told him. "And, do you know, Danny, when she tried to guy +Jarge, he was able for her. She called him a craddle-robber and he says: +'I'm not so sure of that. Let's see: I'm about six years older than +Rosie. That means when she's eighteen I'll be twenty-four. That ain't +so bad.' And oh, Danny," Rosie ended, "I wish you could have seen how +mad Ellen was!" + +Danny laughed. "I do see her this minute!" He mused awhile, his eyes +blinking rapidly. "It's this way, Rosie: in any case it's a fine +arrangement for Jarge, for it has a sort of double-barrelled action. +Maybe it'll bring Ellen around. That would suit him fine. But, by the +same token, if it don't bring her around, it won't very much matter, +for, before he knows what he's about, Jarge'll be wakin' up to the fact +that he's havin' just as good a time with another girl as he'd ever be +havin' with Ellen and, once he knows that, good-bye to Ellen and her +tantrums!" + +"Do you really think so, Danny?" Rosie put the question anxiously. + +"Do I think so? I do. What else could I think with the sight I've had of +all the lads I've ever known fallin' in love and most of them fallin' +out again?" + +As usual, Danny's words gave Rosie something to cogitate. "Are you +perfectly sure, Danny, they do sometimes fall out again?" + +Danny raised his right hand to heaven. "I'd be willin' to take me oath +they do! In fact, Rosie darlint, it would shame me to tell you how often +they do!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +ELLEN'S CAREER + + +Danny was a wise old bird whose chirpings were well worth listening to. +What he prophesied for George seemed likely enough of realization. The +new affair, though confessedly pseudo, was cheering from the first. This +was to be expected so long as Ellen, notwithstanding her scoffing, was a +little miffed. Rosie saw, though, that, in spite of being miffed, Ellen +was still perfectly sure that she did not want George for herself. The +only feeling she seemed to have in the matter was annoyance that he +should no longer be wanting her. At first Ellen was so outspoken in this +annoyance that Rosie was able to whisper triumphantly: "You see, Jarge! +Didn't I tell you!" + +There were other things occurring just at this time which served to keep +Ellen irritable and sensitive. Her experience in stenography was, +throughout, unfortunate and was making her see in almost everything that +happened a slight to herself. To Mrs. O'Brien's prolonged amazement, the +heads of various firms continued their insulting treatment of Ellen, +discharging her on the slightest provocation or no provocation whatever, +and never giving the poor girl, so her mother declared, anything like a +fair trial. + +"Now what I would like to know is this:" Mrs. O'Brien would begin in the +evening as soon as Jamie, poor man, was quietly settled for his bedtime +pipe; "how can they know what Ellen can do or what she can't do, never +giving her a decent show? The last six places she's been at they've only +kept her a day or two days at most. It's me own opinion they don't want +a good stenographer. I believe they're jealous of her! I tell you, Jamie +O'Brien, it's fair disgraceful, and if I was a man, which I'm thankful +to say I ain't, I'd go down there and give them fellas a piece of my +mind!" + +To Ellen herself, Mrs. O'Brien was, as usual, both sympathetic and +voluble. "Don't you mind what them fellas say to you, Ellen dear," she +would advise at each fresh disappointment. "You've had as fine a +schoolin' as any of them and there'll come a day when they'll all have +to acknowledge it. And when they talk to you again about your spelling, +you can tell them for me they're mighty smart if they're able to prove +what's the right and what's the wrong way to spell a word nowadays. If I +was you I wouldn't worry me head one minute about a thrifle like +spelling. I'd just go ahead me own way and remember I was a lady and, +take me word for it, some of these days you'll hit an office that is an +office with fine men at the head of it, able to know good work when +they see it and willin' to give credit for it!" + +Ellen shared to a great extent her mother's belief in her own ability, +and she tried to share likewise Mrs. O'Brien's firm conviction that +there was a deep-laid plot to keep her down. In her mother's presence it +was easy enough to believe this, but Ellen was too quick-witted to +deceive herself all the time and, as the days went by and her failure in +stenography grew more and more apparent, she began to lose her air of +aggressive confidence and to show in a new sullenness of manner the +chagrin and the disappointment she was feeling. + +There was no dearth of trial places, as the supply of offices in need of +stenographers seemed to be unlimited. So, in the matter of actual +earnings, Ellen was doing pretty well. Indeed, her first experience was +repeated more than once and she was overpaid in order to be got rid of +more quickly. At such times she took the money greedily in spite of the +attendant mortification. Mrs. O'Brien saw no cause for mortification but +would declare complacently: "Ha, ha, the villians! 'Tis conscience +money, no less, that they're paying you! They know they haven't given +you a fair show! But don't you mind them, Ellen dear. The right office +is comin' yet--you can depend on that!" + +Mrs. O'Brien's faith was steadfast and at length had its reward. Ellen +came home one evening flushed and triumphant. "Well," she announced, +"I've struck it right at last!" Her eyes sparkled with renewed +assurance. "No more running around for me, a day here and a day there! +I'm fixed! Eight dollars a week to begin on and fifty cents advance +every month!" + +"I'm not one bit surprised!" Mrs. O'Brien cried. "I knew just how it +would be! Now tell us all about it!" + +"It's a real estate office," Ellen explained; "Hawes & Cranch. Mr. Hawes +is my man. I'm to take his dictation in the morning and get the work out +in the afternoon and attend to his private phone. It's a big office. +They've got two other stenographers and a book-keeper. By tomorrow Mr. +Hawes is going to have my desk put into his room. He's an awful nice +man. He says he never had any one who took his dictation better and he +says I certainly do understand all about business punctuation." + +"I'm sure you do!" Mrs. O'Brien agreed heartily. + +"And I wasn't there more than a couple of hours when he said he knew I'd +suit and the position was mine if I wanted it." + +"Do you hear that!" Mrs. O'Brien gasped. "I'm not one bit surprised!" + +"And he apologized for starting me so low. He said it was a rule in +their office. He talked like I ought to be getting twenty a week +easily." + +"And so you ought!" Mrs. O'Brien declared. "And I must say, Ellen dear, +if I'm any judge of men, this Mr. Hawes is a fine fella! Mind you're +always respectful to him!" + +Ellen laughed. "He's not that kind of man at all! He's just as friendly +as he can be." + +For a moment her mother was anxious. "I hope, Ellen dear, he's not too +friendly." + +Ellen tossed her head. "Even if he was, I guess I know how to take care +of myself!" + +In Mrs. O'Brien confidence was restored. "Of course you do, Ellen dear. +I trust you for that." + +Terry looked at Ellen sharply. "Say, Sis, is this fellow married?" + +"Er-a-not exactly," Ellen stammered. "I wasn't going to mention it, but +since you ask me I might as well tell. They say he's divorced." + +"Divorced!" That was a word to startle Mrs. O'Brien's soul. "You don't +say so, Ellen! I'm sorry to hear it! I'm not so sure you ought to stay +with him." + +Ellen laughed. "Ma, you make me tired! Divorce is so common nowadays, it +don't mean a thing! Besides, it wasn't his fault. Miss Kennedy, one of +the other stenographers, told me so." + +Mrs. O'Brien was plainly relieved. "I must say I'm glad to hear that. I +suppose now she was one of them dressy, lazy, good-for-nuthin's that +nearly drove the poor fella mad with her extravagance. There are such +women and a lot of them!" + +One of the first results of Ellen's new position was an utter +indifference to George Riley and Rosie and to their little comedy. It +was not so much that she intentionally ignored them as that she did not +see them even when she looked at them--at any rate, did not see them any +more than she would have seen two chairs that occupy so much space and +are not to be stumbled over. There was one subject now and one only that +filled her mind to the exclusion of all others. This was her new +employer. She talked about him constantly, first as Mr. Hawes, then as +Philip Hawes, and soon as Phil. It was "Phil this" and "Phil that" +throughout breakfast and supper. + +In no one but her mother did Ellen arouse any great enthusiasm, but Mrs. +O'Brien was a host in herself and in questions and ejaculations more +than made up for the indifference of the others. + +To his kindness to Ellen during office hours, Hawes was soon adding +social attentions outside office hours, inviting her to places of +amusement in the evening and taking her off on Sunday excursions. + +"He is certainly a very kind-hearted gentleman," Mrs. O'Brien repeatedly +declared; "and it would give me much pleasure to take him by the hand +and tell him so." + +This was a pleasure somewhat doubtful of realization as circumstances +kept preventing the kind-hearted gentleman from making an actual +appearance at the O'Brien home. He wanted to come; he was very anxious +to meet Ellen's family; but he was a busy man and could not always do as +he would like to do. Ellen had to explain this at length, for even Mrs. +O'Brien, easy-going as she was, protested against an escort who hadn't +time either to come for his lady or to bring her home. + +"I don't see why you can't understand!" Ellen would exclaim petulantly. +"Now listen here: wouldn't it take him half an hour to come out here for +me, and another half hour for us to get back to town, and another half +hour for him to bring me home, and another half hour for him to get back +to town himself? That'd be two whole hours. Now I say it would be a +shame to make that poor man spend all that time on the cars just coming +and going." + +At first Mrs. O'Brien would insist: "But, Ellen dear, beaux always do +that way! For me own part I don't think it's nice for you to be comin' +home so late alone. You've never done it before. I don't mind you to be +going downtown to meet him if he's a busy man, yet I must say, Ellen +dear, ..." + +But Ellen was expert at making her mother see reason and Mrs. O'Brien +was soon explaining to George Riley or to any one who would listen: "I +do like to see a girl considerate of a poor tired man, especially if +he's a fine hard-workin' fella like this Mr. Hawes. So I says to Ellen, +'Ellen dear,' says I, 'it's all very well to be accepting the attentions +of a nice gentleman, but remember,' says I, 'he's a tired man with a +load of responsibility on his shoulders and he'd much better be resting +than spending all his time on the street cars just coming and going. +This is a safe neighborhood,' says I, 'and nowadays girls and women are +always coming home alone.' Now I ask you truthfully, ain't that so?" + +It probably was; nevertheless the attitude of the rest of the family +continued to be rather cold and skeptical. "Ain't it a great beau we got +now?" Terry would remark facetiously. "Seems like he's afraid to show +himself, though. Say, Sis, do you have to pay your own carfare?" + +To Rosie's surprise, George Riley paid no heed to the newcomer. Rosie +herself felt that Ellen's absorption in her employer marked very +definitely the failure of Danny Agin's experiment. Ellen never had and +never would care two straws about George Riley and now, with something +else to occupy her mind, she had forgotten even the slight pique which +Rosie's little affair had at first excited. Rosie wondered whether +honesty required her to point this out to George. She tried to once or +twice, but George was so slow at understanding what she was talking +about that at last she desisted. + +The truth was, George was having so good a time playing his and Rosie's +little game that he was in a fair way of forgetting that it was a game. +Not that he was falling in love with Rosie. Rosie was only a little girl +of whom he was tremendously fond and to his northern mind, as to +Rosie's, the idea that a man should fall in love with a little girl was +a preposterous one. His affection for her was founded solidly on the +approval of reason. It had not in it one bit of the wild unreason which +characterized his feeling for Ellen. They were pals, he and Rosie, who +understood and appreciated each other and who enjoyed going off on +little larks together. Since these larks had become a regular thing, +life for George had regained its normal zest, as it does for any man +once fresh interests begin to occupy the leisure moments heretofore +given up to a fruitless passion. A look, a word, would have awakened the +old passion, but for the present no look was being given, no word +spoken. + +So Rosie, seeing George happy, could only sigh, hoping it wasn't +cheating on her part not to tell him the truth. Except for this scruple +of conscience, she was very happy herself. Her little world was jogging +comfortably along: Geraldine was well; for Janet McFadden life seemed to +be brightening; and for Janet as well as Rosie the waning summer was +affording many treats. Janet's cousin, Tom Sullivan, was making a good +deal of money on summer jobs and was squandering his earnings lavishly +on his two lady friends. + +"Just think, Rosie," Janet announced one day, "Tom wants to give us +another picnic! You know I've always told you how generous he is." + +"I know he is," Rosie agreed. "Tom sure is nice. It wouldn't surprise me +one bit if he grows up as nice as Jarge Riley. What's this new picnic, +and when is it to be?" + +"For Labour Day. He says he'll pay Jackie to take your papers and that +you and me and him will all go downtown to the parade. After the parade +we'll eat supper at a restaurant and after that we'll go to the movies." +Janet paused, then concluded impressively: "He made two whole dollars +last week and he's willing to blow in every cent of it on us!" + +"You don't say so!" Rosie shook her head and clucked her tongue in +amazement as deep as Janet's own. + +"You'll come, won't you, Rosie?" + +Rosie hesitated. "I'll come if I can. I mean I will if Jarge Riley +hasn't something on. If he's off on Labour Day afternoon, of course +he'll want me and I'll have to be with him." + +"Of course," Janet agreed. "But maybe he won't get off. I wonder how +soon he'll know?" + +"I'll ask him tonight," Rosie promised. "Let's see: today's Thursday and +Labour Day's next Monday. I ought to be able to let Tom know early on +Saturday." + +"I think I'm going to be off," George told her that night in answer to +her inquiry. "I switch around to a late run tomorrow night, but I won't +know until tomorrow whether I'm going to keep it regular. What do you +want to do tomorrow night? Ride down with me on my last trip? Then we'd +stop and get a soda on the way home." + +"Thank you, Jarge, I think that would be very nice. And you can write me +a little note about Labour Day and hand it to me when I get on the +car." + +George's face fell. "Won't talking be good enough?" + +"No, Jarge, it'll be better to write. You're doing beautifully in your +letters but you must keep them up." + +George sighed but murmured an obedient: "All right." + +The next evening Rosie was at the corner in good time and, promptly to +the minute, George's car came by. It was an open summer car with seats +straight across and an outside running board. Rosie climbed into the +last seat, which was so close to the rear platform where George stood +that it was almost as good as having George beside her. When there were +no other passengers on the same seat, George could lean in and chat +sociably. + +"Here's a letter for you," he announced, as Rosie settled herself. He +gave her a little folded paper and at the same time slipped a dime into +her hand with which, in all propriety, she was to pay her carfare. + +"I'll answer your note tomorrow," Rosie said. + +Duty called George to the front of the car and Rosie peeped hastily into +his letter. "_My dear little Sweetheart,_" it ran; "_Say, what do you +think? I'm off Labour Day afternoon, so we can go to the Parade. Say, +kid, I'm just crazy about you. George._" + +So that settled the Tom Sullivan business. Rosie felt a little sorry +about Tom because Tom did like her. It couldn't be helped, though, for a +girl simply can't divide herself up into sections for all the men that +want her. She would let Tom down as easily as possible. It might comfort +him to take her to the movies. Rosie could easily manage that by +suggesting a time when George Riley was busy. + +The car was pretty well filled on the down trip, so George had little +time for chatting. Rosie was patient as she knew that, on the return +trip, the car would be empty or nearly so. + +"All out!" George cried at the end of the route, and everybody but Rosie +meekly obeyed. + +George was about to pull the bell, when Rosie called: "Wait, Jarge! +There comes a girl!" + +The girl was half running, half staggering, and George stepped off the +car to help her on. As the light of the car fell on the girl's face, +Rosie jumped to her feet, crying out in amazement: "Ellen!" + +Yes, it was Ellen, but not an Ellen they had ever seen before--an Ellen +with hat awry and trembling hands and a face red and swollen with +weeping. + +"George!" she sobbed hysterically, "is that you! I'm so glad! You'll +take me home, won't you? I haven't got a cent of carfare!" + +George helped her into the seat beside Rosie and started the car. Then +he leaned in over Rosie and demanded: + +"What's the matter, Ellen? What's happened?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE KIND-HEARTED GENTLEMAN + + +For several moments Ellen sobbed and shook without trying to speak. +Then, instead of answering George's question, she turned solemnly to +Rosie. "Oh, kid," she begged, "promise me you'll never have anything to +do with a man like Philip Hawes!" There was an unexpected tenderness in +her tone but this, far from touching Rosie, stirred up all the +antagonism in her nature. Why, forsooth, should Ellen be giving her such +advice? Was she the member of the family who was given to chasing men +like Philip Hawes? Rosie sat up stiffly and turned her face straight +ahead. + +Upon George the effect of Ellen's words was different. He leaned farther +in, his neck surging with blood, his little eyes growing round and +fierce. "What do you mean, Ellen? Has that fellow been insulting you?" + +Ellen was sobbing again and swaying herself back and forth. "Oh, George, +I'm so humiliated I feel like I could never hold up my head again!" + +George's strong fist was clenching and unclenching. "What did that +fellow do to you?" + +"It was my own fault!" Ellen wailed. "He was perfectly right: I knew +what he was after all along. Any girl would know. But I was so sure I +could hold my own all right. Oh, what fools girls are!" Ellen went off +into another doleful wail. "Of course he had given hints before and I +had always let on I didn't understand him. But tonight he came right out +with it. He put it straight up to me and when I wouldn't, oh, I can't +tell you the awful things he said!" + +George breathed hard. "So he's that kind of a scoundrel, is he?" + +"And, George," Ellen wept, "I'm not that kind of a girl! Honest I'm not! +Am I, Rosie?" + +Rosie, frozen and miserable, with a sickening realization of how things +were going to end, was still looking straight ahead. She wanted to +answer Ellen's question with a truthful, "I am sure I don't know what +kind of a girl you are!" but something restrained her and she said +nothing. + +Ellen seemed hardly to expect an answer, for she went on immediately: +"I've been a fool, George, an awful fool; I see that now; but I've +always been straight--honest I have! You can ask everybody that knows +me!" + +George was breathing with difficulty. "I'd like to get at that Hawes +fellow for about five minutes! Will he be in his office tomorrow, around +noon?" + +Ellen wrung protesting hands. "No, George, you won't do any such thing! +I won't let you! You'll only get pulled in! Besides, he was right! +Leastways, he was in some things! Of course I knew what he was always +hinting about but honest, George, I didn't know the rest!" + +"What didn't you know?" + +"I didn't know my work was so bad that he'd been getting it done over +every day! I know I'm pretty poor at it. I know perfectly well why I was +never able to keep a job. But he kept saying that I suited him just +right and I was such a fool that I thought I did.... And, George, we +were having supper at one of those sporty places out on the Island. I +knew it wasn't a nice place, but I thought it was all right because I +had an escort. And he kept talking louder and louder until the people at +the other tables could hear and they began laughing and joking. Then +some one shouted, 'Throw her out!' and I got so frightened I could +hardly stand up. I don't know how I got away. And, George, I hadn't +enough money in my bag for a ticket on the boat and some man gave me a +dime...." + +The car went on with scarcely a stop the whole way out. Occasionally the +motorman looked back, inquisitive to know what the matter was but too +far away to hear. Some time before they reached the end of the route, +Ellen had finished her story. The recital relieved her overwrought +feelings; her sobs quieted; her tears ceased. By the time they alighted +from the car, her manner had regained its usual composure. + +She and Rosie waited outside the office until George had made out his +accounts and deposited his collections. Then all three started home. + +For half an hour Rosie had not spoken. Neither of the others knew this, +for Ellen, of course, had been too engrossed in herself, and George too +engrossed in her, to notice it. Rosie was with them but not of them. She +walked beside them now close enough to touch them with her hand but +feeling separated from them by worlds of space. Her heart was like a +little lump of ice that hurt her every time it beat. She waited in a +sort of frozen misery for what she felt sure was coming. At last it +came. + +"George," Ellen began. There was a note of soft pleading in her voice +that Rosie had never heard before. "Oh, George, I wonder if you'll ever +forgive me for the way I've been treating you?" + +"Aw, go on!" George's words were gruff but their tone fairly trembled +with joy. + +"I mean it, George," Ellen went on. "I've been as many kinds of a fool +as a girl can be and I'm so ashamed of myself that I can hardly talk." + +"Aw, Ellen," George pleaded. + +"And I've been horribly selfish, too, and I've imposed on ma and Rosie +here until they both must hate me." Ellen paused but Rosie made no +denial. "And I've treated you like a dog, George, making fun of you and +insulting you and teasing you. And, George, of all the men I've ever +known you're the only one that's clean and honest right straight +through. I see that now." + +Ellen began crying softly, making pathetic little noises that irritated +Rosie beyond measure but were like to reduce George to a state of utter +helplessness. + +"Aw, Ellen," he begged, "please don't talk that way!" + +But Ellen wanted to talk that way. She insisted on talking that way. Her +pride had been dragged in the dust but, by this time, she was finding +that dust, besides being choking, is also warm and friendly and +soothing. Enforced humiliation is bitter but, once accepted, how sweet +it is, how comforting! Witness the saints and martyrs, and be not +surprised that Ellen O'Brien finally acknowledged as true all the +charges her late admirer had made. The fact was he had been too gentle +with her! She was worse, far worse than even he had supposed. She didn't +see how any one could ever again tolerate the mere sight of her! + +"Oh, George, how you must hate me!" she murmured brokenly. + +"Hate you!" George protested breathlessly. "Why, kid, I'm just crazy +about you!" + +Rosie, listening, caught her breath sharply. Her phrase, which she had +laboured hard to teach him! But where had he got the deep vibrating tone +with which he spoke it? Rosie had never heard that before. + +After a moment, Ellen quavered: "Even--even yet, George?" + +"Even yet!" George cried in the same wonderful voice that sent little +thrills up and down Rosie's back. "Why, Ellen girl, don't you know that +ever since the first day I saw you you've been the onliest girl for me!" + +His arm was around her now, straining her to him, and Rosie knew, but +for her own presence, he would be kissing her. + +"I--I don't see why, George." + +"But it's so, Ellen, it's so!" + +They walked on a few moments in silence. Then George began soberly: "Of +course, Ellen, you know I'm only a farmer and you know you've always +said you'd never live in the country." + +"George, don't remind me of all the foolish things I've said! Please, +don't! Why, if I could go to the country this minute, I'd go and never +come back! I hate the city! I wish I'd never have to see it again!" + +George gasped an incredulous, "Really, Ellen? Do you really mean it?" + +"Yes, really!" Ellen declared vehemently and George, untroubled to +account for this sudden revulsion of feeling, threw up his head with a +joyous laugh. + +When they reached home, George said to Ellen: "Don't you want to sit out +here on the porch a little while?" + +Nobody invited Rosie to stay. She hesitated a moment, then said primly: +"Good-night, everybody." + +[Illustration: She read it again by the light of the candle.] + +"Good-night," they chorused politely, as they might to any stranger. + +Rosie started in, then turned back. "And, Jarge, I forgot to tell you +about Monday afternoon. I'm sorry I can't go with you but Tom Sullivan +invited me first." + +"That so?" George said, and from his tone, Rosie knew that he didn't +understand what she was talking about. Worse still, he wasn't interested +enough to find out. + +Rosie dragged herself slowly upstairs. In the bedroom, when she felt for +matches, she discovered that her hand was still clutching the note which +George had given her earlier in the evening. She read it again by the +light of the candle. "_... Say, kid, I'm just crazy about you!..._" +Jackie turned over in his sleep and Rosie hastily blew out the candle +for fear he should open his eyes and see her tears. + +She groped her way to bed in the dark and wept herself miserably to +sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +ELLEN MAKES AN ANNOUNCEMENT + + +The next morning at breakfast Ellen declared herself. She addressed her +mother, but what she had to say was for the whole family. + +"I just want to tell you, Ma, I'm done with stenography forever. 'Tain't +my line and I know it and I should have known it long ago. Now you +needn't argue because that's all there is about it." + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at Ellen blankly. "Why--why, Ellen dear," she +stammered, "what's this I hear you saying?" + +Ellen repeated her announcement slowly and distinctly. + +"But, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien protested, "how can you talk so and the +beautiful way you've been getting on and the beautiful way Mr. Hawes has +been treating you? And what will Mr. Hawes say--poor, kind-hearted +gentleman that he is! Oh, Ellen dear, with your fine looks and your fine +education I beg you not to throw it all away!" + +Mrs. O'Brien mopped her eyes with her apron and pleaded on. It did not +occur to her to ask the reason for Ellen's sudden decision. After all, +sudden decisions were merely characteristic of Ellen. Terence, however, +peered at his sister sharply. + +"Huh! Seems to me stenography was all right yesterday! What's happened +to make you change your mind? Did that Hawes fellow say something to you +last night at the Island?" + +Ellen had decided that the family were not to know the details of the +previous night's adventure and, before they came down in the morning, +she had pledged Rosie to secrecy. Yet some sort of explanation had to be +offered. She looked at Terry now with a candour that was new to her and +that did much to win his support. + +"Terry," she began slowly, with none of her usual aggressiveness, "you +always thought my going to that business college and trying to do office +work was foolish. You've said so all along. I didn't use to believe you +were right but I do now. I'd never do decent office work in a hundred +years. I'm sorry all the money you and dad had to put up and I'll pay +you back if I can." + +"Gee!" murmured Terry in astonishment, "you sure must have got some +blowing up to make you feel that way about it!" + +"Well, that's the way I do feel," Ellen said quietly. + +"But, Ellen," Mrs. O'Brien wailed, "you don't mean it--I know you don't! +Why, what'll you do if you throw up this fine position with Mr. Hawes? +Nowadays a girl can't sit at home and do nothing! She's either got to +work or get married." Mrs. O'Brien paused with a new idea which her own +words suggested to her. "Is it--is it that you're getting married?" + +Ellen spoke quickly: "Ma, I expect to work and I'm going to work. But +I'm going to do something I can do well." + +"That you can do well!" echoed Mrs. O'Brien. "I don't rightly catch your +meanin', Ellen. Here you've landed a fine position and your boss is a +nice friendly gentleman and now you're turning your back on it all to +take up something else! I don't understand you at all, at all! And to +think," Mrs. O'Brien concluded brokenly, "of the skirts and shirtwaists +that I've stayed up all hours of the night to iron for you, just to keep +you lookin' sweet and clean down at that office!" + +"Ma, I'm sorry to disappoint you--honest I am. But, don't you see, it's +just this way: I've made a bad mistake and the sooner I get out of it +the better it will be for me. What I ought to do is something I can do." + +"Something you can do, indeed! And will you tell me, me lady, what is it +you can do so much better than stenography?" + +Ellen flushed but answered firmly: "I can trim hats." + +"Trim hats!" screamed Mrs. O'Brien. "What's this ye're sayin'? Do you +mean to tell me that you're willing to be a milliner when you might be +a stenographer? Why, anybody at all can go and be a milliner!" + +"Anybody can't be a fine milliner. And you needn't think there isn't +good money in millinery. The head of a big millinery department gets a +couple of thousand a year!" + +Mrs. O'Brien blinked her eyes. "Has some one been offering you that kind +of a position?" Her tears ceased to flow. Once again she beamed on Ellen +with all her old-time pride. "Ah, Ellen, you rogue, you're keeping +something back! Come, tell me what's happened!" + +Ellen sighed helplessly. "Ma, I'm trying to tell you, but you make it +awful hard for me. You go off every minute and don't give me a chance to +finish." + +Mrs. O'Brien folded her hands complacently. "Ellen dear, I won't utter +another syllable--I promise you I won't. Now tell me in two words what's +happened." + +"Well, Ma, it's this: I'm through with stenography and I'm going in for +millinery, which I think I can do better." + +"But where, Ellen, where are you going in for it? That's the great +p'int!" + +"I'm going to try Hattie Graydon's aunt first. She always says that not +one of the girls in her shop begins to have the taste that I've got, and +one time she told me if ever I wanted a job to come to her." + +The happy look in Mrs. O'Brien's face slowly faded. Tears again filled +her eyes. "And is that all you've got to tell me?" + +"Yes, Ma, that's all. I'm going down to see Miss Graydon this morning." + +"Oh, Ellen, Ellen, to think of your doing a thing like that without +asking the advice of a soul! You're a foolish, headstrong girl!" + +Ellen dropped her eyes. "George Riley thinks I'm doing right." + +Mrs. O'Brien looked up sharply. + +"Jarge Riley indeed! And may I ask what Jarge Riley's got to with it?" + +"George and me are friends again. I thought I better tell you." + +In Mrs. O'Brien amazement took the place of grief. "Ellen O'Brien, do +you mean to tell me that you've took up with Jarge Riley when you might +have had a gentleman like Mr. Hawes?" + +The flush that her mother's words excited was one of anger as well as +embarrassment. "Ma, you listen to me: I've never once told you that I +might have Mr. Hawes! You've made that up yourself!" + +"Made it up myself, indeed! when he's been taking you out night after +night and treating you like a real lady!" + +"And what's more," Ellen went on vehemently, "George Riley's worth +twenty Philip Hawses!" + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her sharply. "Is it that you're going to marry +Jarge Riley?" + +Ellen, breathing hard, made answer a little unsteadily: "Yes." + +Mrs. O'Brien dropped back limply into her chair. "Mercy on us!" she +wailed, "and is this the end of your fine looks and your fine +education--to marry a farmer like Jarge Riley! Why, you could have had +him without any business college or nothing!" + +Ellen stood up and Mrs. O'Brien, her face woe-begone and tragic, made +one last appeal: "Ellen O'Brien, I ask you in all seriousness, are you +determined to throw yourself away like that?" + +Ellen was nothing if not determined. "I'm going down to Miss Graydon's +now," she said in a casual tone which ended all discussion; "and me and +George will probably get married in the spring." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE HAPPY LOVER + + +It was several days before Mrs. O'Brien regained her usual complacency. +"'Tain't that I've got anything against you, Jarge," she explained many +times to her prospective son-in-law. "I'm really fond of you and I treat +you like one of me own. But what with her fine looks and her fine +education I was expecting something better for Ellen. Why, Jarge, she +ought to be marrying a Congressman at least. Now I ask you frankly, +don't you think so yourself?" + +For George the situation was far from a happy one. To be the confidant +of Mrs. O'Brien in this particular disappointment was embarrassing, to +say the least. Moreover, certain of Mrs. O'Brien's objections were +somewhat difficult to meet and yet they had to be met and met often, for +Mrs. O'Brien harped on them constantly. + +"And, Jarge dear, if you do go marry her and carry her off to the +country, what will you do with her out there? Tell me that, now! For +meself I can't see Ellen milkin' a cow." + +[Illustration: To be the confidant of Mrs. O'Brien in this particular +disappointment was embarrassing, to say the least.] + +George tried hard to explain that milking cows was not the only activity +open to a farmer's wife; that, in all probability, Ellen would never be +called on to milk a cow. His protests were vain, for, to Mrs. O'Brien, +milking a cow stood not so much for a definite occupation as for a +general symbol of country life. George might talk an hour and very often +did and, at the end of that time, Mrs. O'Brien would sigh mournfully and +remark: "Say what you will, Jarge, I tell you one thing: I can't see +Ellen milkin' a cow." + +Moreover, life with Ellen was not at once the long sweet song that +George had expected. Not that she was the old imperious Ellen of biting +speech and quick temper. She was not. All that was passed. She was quiet +now, and docile, anxious to please and always ready for anything he +might suggest. Would she like a street-car ride tonight? Yes, a +street-car ride would be very nice. Or the movies or a walk? She would +like whatever he wanted. Her gentleness touched him but caused him +disquiet, too, because he could not help realizing that a great part of +it was apathy. One thing pleased her as much as another, which is pretty +nearly the same as saying one thing bored her as much as another. + +"But, Ellen," he protested more than once, "you don't have to go if you +don't want to!" + +"Oh, I want to," she would insist in tones that were far from +convincing. + +George could not help recalling the eager joy with which Rosie used to +greet each new expedition. Why wasn't Ellen the same, he wondered in +helpless perplexity. He went through all the little attentions which +Rosie had taught him and a thousand more, and Ellen received them with a +quiet, "Thanks," or a half-hearted, "You're awful kind, George." + +"Kind nuthin'!" he shouted once. "I don't believe you care one straw for +me or for anything I do for you!" + +His outburst startled her and, for a moment, she faltered. Then she +said: "I don't see how you can say that, George. I think you're just as +good and kind as you can be." + +"Good and kind!" he spluttered. "What do I care about being good and +kind? What I want is love!" + +"Well, don't I love you?" She looked at him beseechingly and put her +hand on his shoulder. Her caresses were infrequent and this one, slight +as it was, was enough to fire his blood and muddle his understanding. + +"You do love me, don't you?" he begged, pulling her to him, and she, as +usual, submitting without a protest, said, yes, she did. + +A word, a touch, and Ellen could always silence any misgiving. But such +misgivings had a way of returning, once George was alone. Then he would +wish that he had Rosie to talk things over with. He was used to talking +things over with Rosie. For some reason, though, he never saw Rosie now +except for a moment when she handed him his supper-pail each evening at +the cars. At other times she seemed always to be out on errands or on +jaunts with Janet and Tom Sullivan. George looked upon Tom as a jolly +decent youngster and he was pleased that the intimacy between him and +Rosie was growing. But at the same time he could not help feeling a +little hurt that Rosie should so completely forget him. True, he was +bound up heart and soul in Ellen and now he was her accepted lover. +That, it seemed to him, ought to be happiness enough and he told himself +that it was enough. Then he would sigh and wonder why he wasn't as +light-heartedly gay as he used to be when he and Rosie went about +together. Rosie, apparently, had entirely forgotten what good chums they +once had been. Well, after all, he couldn't blame her, for she was only +a child. + +George did not know and probably never would know that Rosie was +watching him and watching over him with all the faithfulness of a little +dog and that she knew all there was to know of the situation between him +and Ellen. + +George had set the latter part of September as the time for his return +to the country. For four long years he had been working and saving for +this very event. Several times before he had been about to leave but +always, at the last moment, some untoward circumstance had crippled his +finances and he had been forced to stay on in the city another few +months. Now for the first time he could go and now he was loath to go. +But he had made his announcement and all his little world was standing +about, waiting to see him off and to bid him god-speed. + +He was ashamed to acknowledge even to himself the indecision that was +tugging at his heart. "Don't you think, Ellen," he ventured at last, "it +might be just as well if I waited till Christmas?" + +"Oh, George!" Ellen looked at him with a shocked expression. "I don't +see how you can say such a thing after the way you've been waiting all +these years! Besides, what would your poor mother say if you didn't come +now that you could? You've told me yourself how the burden of things has +fallen on her more and more and how anxious you are to relieve her." + +"I know," George acknowledged; "but, Ellen girl, don't you see I can't +bear to leave you now I've got you. I've had you for such a little +while!" + +"Won't you have me just the same, even if you are in the country? +Besides, you'll be getting things ready for me by spring." + +George took a sharp breath. "But I want you now!" + +Ellen looked at him gravely. "See here, George, there's no use talking +that way. You've got to work and I've got to work, and if we don't get +our work done this winter it'll be all the worse for both of us when +spring comes. Your father's expecting to hand over the management of the +farm to you this fall and it's up to you to take it. Ain't I right?" + +George sighed. "I suppose you are." + +"Then don't be foolish. Besides you can come down and see me at +Thanksgiving." + +George gasped. "Why, Ellen, I expect to see you before that! I could +come in and stay over Sunday 'most any week." + +"No, George, you mustn't do that! I won't let you!" Ellen spoke +vehemently. "It would only cost you money and you know perfectly well +you need every cent of cash you've got! Once you're back in the country +you won't be getting in three dollars a day ready money. No! You'll come +to see me Thanksgiving and not before." + +Ellen was right. It would be necessary for him to hoard like a miser his +little stock of money until the farm should once again be on a paying +basis. + +George sighed gloomily and went about his preparations for departure. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE SISTERS + + +Ellen and Rosie saw him off. Rosie wept openly. + +"And, Jarge," she said, kissing him good-bye, "give your mother and your +father my love, but especially your mother. Tell her that I love her and +that I think of her every day. You won't forget, will you? And tell her +that Geraldine is fat and well and has been ever since we got home from +the country." + +"Good-bye, George," Ellen said quietly. Her face was pale and there was +a strained expression about eyes and mouth. + +"Oh, Ellen!" George gave her one last wild kiss and rushed madly through +the gate. + +His coach was far down the train shed and Rosie and Ellen soon lost +sight of his hurrying figure. They stood together at the gate and waited +until the train started. + +As it pulled away Ellen sighed deeply. "Thank goodness he's gone!" She +leaned against the grating and laughed hysterically. + +Rosie, who had been dabbing her eyes with a wet handkerchief, looked up +blankly. "Ellen O'Brien, what do you mean? Are you glad he's gone?" + +"You bet I'm glad!" Ellen's silly high-pitched laugh continued until +silenced by Rosie's look of scornful fury. + +"Ellen O'Brien, you're worse than I thought you were!" + +Ellen faltered a moment, then reached toward Rosie appealingly. "Don't +be too hard on me, Rosie. You don't know the awful time I've had. I feel +like I've been dead. I haven't been able to breathe. I don't mean it was +his fault. I think as much of him as you do--really I do. He's good and +he's kind and he's honest and he's everything he ought to be. But if +he'd ha' stayed much longer I'd ha' smothered." + +Rosie, accusing angel and stern judge rolled into one, demanded gravely: +"And now that he's gone what are you going to do?" + +"What am I going to do?" Ellen's laugh was still a little beyond her +control, but it had in it a note of happy relief that was unmistakable. +"I'm going to live again--at least for the little time that's left me." + +"What do you mean by 'the little time that's left you'?" + +"From now till Thanksgiving; from Thanksgiving till spring." For an +instant Ellen's face clouded. Then she cried: "But I'm not going to +think of spring! I'm going to have my fling now!" + +Rosie looked at her without speaking and, as she looked, it seemed to +her that the Ellen of other days rose before her. It was as though a +pale nun-like creature had been going about in Ellen's body, answering +to Ellen's name. Now, at George's departure as at the touch of a magic +wand, the old Ellen was back with eyes that sparkled once again and +cheeks into which the colour was returning in waves. Yes, she was the +old Ellen, eager for life and excitement and thirsting for admiration. +But the old Ellen with a difference. Now, instead of estranging Rosie +utterly with careless bravado, she strove to win her understanding. + +"You don't know how I feel, Rosie; you can't, because you and me are +made differently. You're perfectly happy if you've got some one to love +and take care of--you know you are! With me it's different. I don't want +to take care of people and work for them and slave for them. I want to +have a good time myself! I'm just crazy about it! I know I ought to be +ashamed, but can I help it? That's the way I am. Do you think I'm very +awful, Rosie?" + +Rosie answered truthfully: "I'm not thinking of you at all. I'm thinking +of poor Jarge." + +Ellen gave a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness I can give up thinking of +him for a while." She began patting her hair and arranging her hat. "Do +I look all right, Rosie? I got to hurry back to the shop. A feather +salesman is coming today and Miss Graydon wants me to take care of him. +He'll probably invite me out to lunch." + +"And are you going?" Rosie asked slowly. + +Ellen took a long happy breath. "You bet I'm going!" + +"Ellen O'Brien, if you do, I'll tell Jarge! I will just as sure!" + +For an instant Ellen was staggered. Then she recovered. "No, Rosie, +you'll do no such thing! What you'll do is this: you'll mind your own +business!" + +Rosie tried to protest but her voice failed her, for the look in Ellen's +eye betokened a will as strong as her own and a determination to brook +no interference. + +Ellen started off, then paused to repeat: "You'll mind your own +business! Do you understand?" + +Ellen walked on and Rosie called after her, a little wildly: "I won't! I +won't! I tell you I won't!" + +But she knew she would. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +ELLEN HAS HER FLING + + +It is hard to be the self-appointed guardian of another's interests, for +one's standing is not, as it were, official. In the weeks that followed +Rosie felt this keenly. She gave up protesting to Ellen, for Ellen's +curt answer to everything she might say was always: "You mind your own +business!" Though she would not accept Ellen's dictum that George's +business was not hers, yet she was soon forced to give up direct action +and to seek her end through the interference of others. She tried her +mother. + +"I don't care what you say, Ma, Ellen's just as crooked as she can be, +acting this way with other fellows when she doesn't even deny that she's +engaged to Jarge. And you ought to stop it, too! There, the very first +week he was gone, she went out three nights hand-running with that +feather man from St. Louis. You know she did! And now she's got that new +little dude with an off eye and, besides, Larry Finn's come back. I tell +you it ain't fair to Jarge and you're to blame, too, if you don't stop +it!" + +Mrs. O'Brien shared with Rosie the conviction that an engaged girl +ought not so much as raise her eyes to other men. She was done forever +with all men but one. Ellen, for some reason, did not feel this +instinctively and, if a girl does not feel it instinctively, how is she +to be made to feel it? Mrs. O'Brien sighed. Unknown to Rosie she had +tried to speak to Ellen. Ellen had not let her go very far. + +"Say, Ma, you dry up!" she had told her shortly. "I guess I know what +I'm doing." + +"I'm sure you do," Mrs. O'Brien had murmured in humble apology; "but, +Ellen dear, be careful! There's a lot of people know you're engaged to +Jarge and I'm afraid they'll be talkin'." + +"Let 'em talk!" was Ellen's snappish answer. + +So when Rosie approached her mother on the same subject, Mrs. O'Brien +hemmed and hawed and ended by offering a defence of Ellen which sounded +hollow even to herself. "As for that feather fella, Rosie dear, you +mustn't get excited about him. It's a matter of business to keep him +jollied. Miss Graydon wants Ellen to be nice to him. And, as I says to +Ellen, 'If that's the case,' says I, 'of course you've got to accept his +little attentions. Miss Graydon,' says I, 'is your employer and a girl +ought always to please her employer.' As you know yourself, Rosie, +Ellen's certainly getting on beautifully in that shop. Miss Graydon told +me herself the other night that she had never had a girl so quick and +tasty with her needle and when I told her about me own poor dead +sister, Birdie, she said that explained it." + +"But, Ma," Rosie cried, "what about poor Jarge?" + +"Jarge? Why, Jarge is all right. He's out there in the country and you +know yourself he's crazy about the country. And more than that, Ellen +writes him a picture postcard every week. She gave me her word she'd do +it. I couldn't very well insist on her writing a letter, for you know +her long hours at the shop and it wouldn't be right to ask her to use +her eyes at night. 'But, Ellen dear,' says I to her, 'promise me +faithfully you'll never let a week go by without sending him a picture +postcard.' And she gave me her word she wouldn't." + +Mrs. O'Brien could always be depended on to obscure reason in a dust of +words, especially at times when it would be embarrassing to face reason +in the open. After three or four attempts to arouse her mother to some +sort of action, Rosie had to give up. She felt as keenly as ever that +George was being basely betrayed, but she saw no way to protect him. She +had not written to him since he left, but she wrote every week to his +mother on the pretext that Mrs. Riley was deeply interested in Geraldine +and must be kept informed of Geraldine's growth and health. Rosie always +put in a sentence about Ellen: "Ellen's very busy but very well," or +"Ellen's hours are much longer now than they used to be and she hasn't +so very much time to herself, but she likes millinery, so it's all +right,"--always something that would assure George of Ellen's well-being +and excuse, if necessary, her silence. Rosie hated herself for thus +apparently shielding Ellen but, in her anxiety to spare George, she +would have gone to almost any length. + +A sort of family pride kept her from confiding her worries to Janet +McFadden. Soon after George's departure she had remarked to Janet: "You +oughtn't to be surprised because you know the kind of girl Ellen is. +She's just got to amuse herself. Besides, you can't exactly blame her +because poor Jarge'd want her to have a good time." This attitude had +not in the least deceived Janet, but Janet was too tactful to question +it. + +The reasons for not talking to Janet did not apply to Danny Agin, who, +being old and of another generation, was philosophical rather than +personal and had long since mastered the art of forgetting confidences +when forgetting was more graceful than remembering. So at last Rosie +opened her heart to Danny. + +"Now take an engaged girl, Danny." + +Rosie paused and Danny, nodding his head, said: "For instance, a girl +like Ellen." + +Rosie was glad enough to be definite. "I don't mind telling you, Danny, +that it's Ellen I'm talking about. I just don't know what to do about it +and maybe you'll be able to help me." + +Danny listened carefully while Rosie slowly unfolded her story. "And, +Danny," she said, as she reached the present in her narrative, "that St. +Louis fellow's just dead gone on her--that's all there is about it. He's +sending her picture postcards every day or every other day. I can't help +knowing because they come to the house. I suppose he doesn't like to +send them to the shop where the other girls would see them. He used to +sign the postcards with his full name but now he only signs 'Harry.' +Now, Danny, do you think it's nice for a girl that's engaged to let +another fella send her postcards and sign 'em 'Harry'?" + +Danny ruminated a moment. "Well, if you ask me, Rosie, I don't believe +that's so awful bad." + +"But, Danny, that ain't all! Listen here: last week he sent a big box of +candy from Cleveland and this morning another box came from Pittsburg. +And there was a postcard this morning and what do you think it said? 'I +just can't wait till Saturday night!' And it was signed, 'With love, +Harry.' Now, Danny, what can that mean? I bet anything he's coming to +spend Sunday with her and, if he does come, what in the world am I to do +about it?" + +Danny patted her hand gently. "Rosie dear, I don't see that you're to do +anything about it. Why do you want to do anything? Isn't it Ellen's +little party?" + +Rosie shook off his hand impatiently. "I don't care about Ellen's side +of it! I'm thinking about Jarge! This kind of thing ain't square to +him, and that's all there is about it!" + +"Of course it ain't," Danny agreed. "But, after all, Rosie, if Ellen +prefers Harry to Jarge, I don't see what we can do about it." + +"But, Danny, she's engaged to Jarge!" + +"Well, maybe she'll get disengaged." + +Rosie shook her head. "You don't know Jarge. Jarge is a fighter. And +I'll tell you something else: once he gets a thing he never gives it up. +Now he's got Ellen or he thinks he's got her and he's going to keep her, +too. You just ought to see him when he's around Ellen. He's awful, +Danny, honest he is! He's so crazy about her that he forgets everything +else. If he thought she was fooling him, I think he might kill +her--really, Danny. And she's afraid of him, too. Why, if she wasn't +afraid of him, she'd break her engagement in a minute and tell him so. I +know that as well as I know anything. She expects to marry him. She's +scared not to now. But that don't keep her from letting those other +fellows act the fool with her. And if Jarge hears about them, I tell you +one thing: there's going to be the deuce to pay. Excuse the language, +Danny, but it's true." + +Danny was impressed but not as impressed as Rosie expected. "That's +worse than I thought," he admitted; "but I don't see that there's any +great danger. Jarge is in the country and not likely to pop in on her, +is he?" + +"No," Rosie answered, "he's not coming till Thanksgiving." + +"Thanksgiving, do you say? Well, that's four weeks off. Plenty of things +can happen in four weeks." + +In spite of herself, Rosie began to feel reassured. "But, Danny," she +insisted, "even if it's not dangerous, don't you think it's crooked for +a girl that's engaged to let other men give her presents and take her +out?" + +"Maybe it is and maybe it ain't. I dunno. It's hard to make a rule about +it. You see it's this way, Rosie: When a girl's engaged she's usually in +love with the fella she's engaged to, or why is she engaged to him? Now, +when she's in love, she don't want presents from any but one man. +Presents from other fellas don't interest her. So, you see, there's no +need to be makin' a rule, for the thing settles itself. Now if Ellen is +getting presents from this new fella, Harry, it looks to me like she +ain't very much in love with Jarge." + +"That's exactly what I'm telling you, Danny. She's not." + +"So the likelihood is, she's not going to marry Jarge." Danny concluded +with a smile that was intended to cheer Rosie. + +"I wish she wasn't," Rosie murmured. Then she added hastily: "No, I +don't mean that, because it would break Jarge's heart!" + +Danny scoffed: "Break Jarge's heart, indeed! Many a young hothead +before Jarge has had a broken heart and got over it!" + +"But, Danny," Rosie wailed, "you don't know Jarge!" + +There were such depths of tenderness in Rosie's tone that Danny checked +the smile which was on his lips and made the hearty declaration: "He +sure is a fine lad, this same Jarge!" + +"Well, Danny, listen here: if Harry comes on Saturday, shall I tell +Jarge?" + +Danny looked at her kindly. "Mercy on us, Rosie, what a worryin' little +hen you are! If you ask me advice, I'd say: Let Saturday take care of +itself." + +Rosie wiped her eyes slowly. "It's all very well for you to talk that +way. But I tell you one thing: if Jarge was your dear friend like he's +mine, you wouldn't want to stand by and see this Harry fella cut him +out." + +Danny gave a non-committal sigh and looked away. "I don't know about +that, Rosie. I think it might be an awful good thing for Jarge if Harry +did cut him out." + +"But, Danny," Rosie cried, "think how it would hurt Jarge!" + +Danny's answer was unfeeling. "There's worse things can happen to a man +than being hurt." + +Rosie's manner stiffened perceptibly. "Very well, Mr. Agin, if that's +how you feel about it, I guess I better be going." + +"Ah, don't go yet," Danny begged. + +Rosie, already started, turned back long enough to say, with frigid +politeness: "Good-bye, Mr. Agin." + +At the gate, her heart misgave her. Danny, after all, had spoken +according to his lights. It was not his fault so much as his limitation +that he should judge George Riley by the standard of other young men. +Rosie would be magnanimous. + +"I got to go anyhow, Danny," she called back sweetly. + +Danny's chuckle reached her faintly. "But you're coming again, Rosie +dear, aren't you? You know I'll be wanting to hear about Saturday." + +Danny was old and half sick, so Rosie felt she must be patient. "All +right," she sang out; "I'll come." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +THE WATCH-DOG + + +That night at supper, Ellen remarked casually: "Harry's coming to town +on Saturday, and if he comes up here, I want you all to treat him nice." + +Mrs. O'Brien glanced at Rosie a little nervously. "But, Ellen dear," she +asked, "why does he want to be coming up here?" + +Ellen smiled on her mother patronisingly. "It looks like he wants to +call on me." + +Mrs. O'Brien lifted hands in vague protest. "But tell me, now, do you +think Jarge----" She hadn't courage to finish her sentence. + +Terence looked over to Rosie with a sudden chuckle. "Say, Rosie, +wouldn't it be fun if Jarge happened in? Let's drop him a line. Gee! +Maybe he wouldn't do a thing to that St. Louis guy!" + +"Ma!" Ellen admonished, sharply. + +"Terry lad," Mrs. O'Brien began, obediently, "I'm surprised at you +talkin' this way about the young gentleman that's coming to see your +poor sister Ellen on Saturday night." + +Terence pushed away his plate and began writing an imaginary postcard +with a spoon. "Dear Jarge," he read slowly; "Won't you please come in +on Saturday night? We're arranging a little surprise for Ellen. Yours +truly, Terence O'Brien. Gee!" Terry murmured thoughtfully, "I wish he +would come! It sure would be worth seeing!" + +"Now, Terry," Mrs. O'Brien begged, "promise me you'll do nuthin' so +foolish as that! You know yourself the awful temper Jarge has on him, +an' if he was to come I'm afeared there'd be something serious. Don't +you think, Ellen dear," she went on a little timidly, "that perhaps +you'd better tell Mr. Harry not to come this week?" + +Ellen looked at her mother defiantly. "I don't see why. This week's as +good as any other for me." + +"Well, then, don't you think that perhaps he'd better make you a little +call down at the shop? With so many children and things the house is a +wee bit untidy." + +"It's his own idea to come up here." Ellen paused, a trifle embarrassed. +"He says he wants to meet the family." + +"H'm!" murmured Terry. "He's not like your old friend, Mr. Hawes, is he, +Ellen?" + +Ellen flushed. "No, Terry, he's not a bit like Mr. Hawes." + +Small Jack piped up unexpectedly. "Is he like Jarge, Ellen?" + +"No, he's not like George, either." + +"Can he fight?" + +Ellen tossed her head. "I should hope not! Harry Long is a gentleman!" +Seeing that this was not a very strong recommendation to her brothers, +she added: "But, unless I'm very much mistaken, he's plenty able to take +care of himself. He's a fine swimmer, too." + +"Is he a sport, Ellen?" Terry asked. + +"He's certainly an elegant dresser, if that's what you mean. Just you +wait and see." + +Friday's letter put Ellen into something of a flurry. + +"Ma, Harry thinks it would be awful nice if you would invite him to +supper tomorrow night. He's coming to the shop in the morning. Then +he'll take me out to lunch and we'll go somewheres in the afternoon, and +he wants to know if we can't come back here for supper. He thinks that +would be a good way for him to meet the whole family." + +"Mercy on us!" Mrs. O'Brien wailed. "With all I've got to do, how can I +get up a fine supper for a sporty young gent like Mr. Harry? Can't you +keep him out, Ellen? I don't see why he's got to meet the family. We're +just like any other family: a father, a mother, and five children." + +"But, Ma, he makes such a point of it. I don't see how we can refuse. +Besides, you know he's been pretty nice to me taking me out to dinner +and things." + +"If he was only Jarge Riley now," Mrs. O'Brien mused, "I wouldn't mind +him at all, at all, for he wouldn't be a bit of trouble. Poor Jarge was +always just like one of the family, wasn't he?" + +Ellen drew her mother back to the subject of the moment. "So can I tell +him to come?" + +Mrs. O'Brien sighed. "Oh, I suppose so. That is, if Rosie'll help me. I +tell you frankly, Ellen, I simply can't manage it alone." + +Mrs. O'Brien called Rosie to get the promise of her assistance. Rosie +listened quietly, then, instead of answering her mother, she turned to +her sister. + +"Ellen, I want to know one thing: Have you told this Harry about Jarge +Riley?" + +Ellen frowned. "I don't see what that's got to do with tomorrow's +supper." + +Rosie took a deep breath. "It's got a lot to do with it if I'm going to +help." + +For a moment the sisters measured each other in silence. Then Ellen +broke out petulantly: + +"Well, then, Miss Busybody, if you've got to know, I haven't! And, +what's more, I'm not going to!" + +"You're not going to, eh? We'll see about that." Rosie turned to her +mother. "Ma, I'll help you tomorrow night. We'll have a good supper. But +I want to give you both fair warning: if Ellen don't tell this Harry +about Jarge Riley, I will! She's trying to make a goat of both of them +and I'm not going to stand for it." + +"Ma!" screamed Ellen, "are you going to let her meddle with my affairs +like that? You make her mind her own business!" + +"Rosie dear," begged Mrs. O'Brien, "don't go excitin' your poor sister +Ellen by any such foolish threats. You'd only be causin' trouble, Rosie, +and I'm sure you don't want to do that. And, Ellen dear, don't raise +your voice. The neighbours will hear you." + +"I don't care!" Ellen shouted. "She's nothing but George's little +watch-dog, and I tell you I'm not going to stand it!" + +"Perhaps, Ellen dear," Mrs. O'Brien ventured timidly, "it might be just +as well if you did tell him about Jarge." + +Ellen burst into tears. "You're all against me, every one of you--that's +what you are! You're so afraid I'll have a good time! Isn't George +coming on Thanksgiving and aren't we to be married in the spring? I +should think that would suit you! But, no, you've got to spoil my fun +now and it's a mean shame--that's what it is!" + +"Ah, now, Ellen dear, don't you cry!" Mrs. O'Brien implored. "I'm sure +Rosie is not going to interfere, are you, Rosie?" + +Rosie regarded her sister's tears unmoved. "I'm going to do exactly what +I say I am, and Ellen knows I am." + +Ellen straightened herself with a shake. "Very well," she said shortly. +"I guess I can be mean, too! You just wait!" + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +MR. HARRY LONG EXPLAINS + + +Rosie was more than true to her promise. She prepared a good supper and, +in addition, made the kitchen neat and presentable, scrubbed Jack until +his skin and hair fairly shone with cleanliness, and, long before supper +time, had Mrs. O'Brien and Geraldine, both in holiday attire, seated in +state on the front porch to receive Ellen and her admirer. + +When Jack, who was perched on the front gate as family lookout, saw them +coming, he rushed back to the kitchen to give Rosie warning and Rosie +had time to slip behind the front door and, through the crack, to +witness the arrival. + +"And, Ellen dear," Mrs. O'Brien exclaimed in greeting, "do you mean to +tell me that this is your friend, Mr. Harry Long! If I do say it, Mr. +Long, I'm mighty pleased to see you! As I've said to Ellen, many's the +time, 'Why don't you bring your friend out to see me? Bring him any +time,' says I, 'for the friends of me children are always welcome in +this house.' And himself says the same thing, Mr. Long." + +The florid well-built young man who gave Rosie the impression of bright +tan shoes, gray spats, a fancy vest, and massive watchfob, waited, +smiling, until Mrs. O'Brien was done and then remarked in friendly, +cordial tones: "Just call me Harry, Mrs. O'Brien. I'm plain Harry to my +friends." + +"Well, I'm sure you're among friends when you're here," Mrs. O'Brien +said with a downcast look of melting coyness. "But I fear you won't +think so if I keep you standing much longer. Won't you sit down, Mr.--I +mean, won't you sit down, Harry? You see, Harry," she continued, "I'm +taking you at your word. And now I must introduce Jackie to you. +Jackie's me second b'y. Now, Jackie dear, shake hands with Mr. Long and +tell him you're glad to see him. The baby's name, Harry, is Geraldine. +Besides her, I've got Terence who's a fine lad--oh, I know you'll be +glad to meet Terry!--and Rosie who's next to Terry and who's helping me +with the supper tonight so's to give me a chance to say 'How do you do' +to you. Ah, if I do say it, I've a fine brood of children and never a +word of bickering among them.... Now, Jackie dear, like a good b'y, will +you run upstairs and tell your da to come down this minute, that we're +waiting for him, and then run into the kitchen and ask sister Rosie if +the supper's ready." + +Rosie slipped hurriedly back to the kitchen and then, through Jack, +summoned the family in. + +When she was presented to the newcomer, she added to her first +impressions the smooth pinkish face of a city-bred man who had never +been exposed to the real violence of sun and wind, a cravat pin and seal +ring that were fellows to the watchfob, and hands that bore themselves +as if a little conscious of a recent visit to the manicure. + +As Rosie gathered in these details, she saw, in contrast, the figure of +George Riley: the roughened weatherbeaten face, the cheap ill-fitting +clothes, the big hands coarsened with work, the heavy feet. Ellen, of +course, and girls like Ellen would be taken in by the new man's flashy +appearance and easy confident manner, but not Rosie. Rosie hated him on +sight! She knew the difference between tinsel and solid worth and she +longed to cry out to him: "You needn't think you can fool me, because +you can't! Any one can dress well who spends all he makes on clothes! +But how much money have you got salted away in the bank? Tell me that, +now!" + +She had to shake hands with him, but when he stooped down to kiss her, +she jerked away and glared at him like an angry little cat. + +"Why, Rosie!" Mrs. O'Brien exclaimed in shocked tones, "is that the way +you treat a family friend like Mr. Harry?" + +"Family friend!" stormed Rosie; "I've never laid eyes on him before and +neither have you!" + +Mrs. O'Brien's embarrassment deepened. "Rosie, I'm ashamed of you! Is +that the way for you to be treatin' a gentleman who's taking supper with +us? I tell you frankly I'm ashamed of you!" + +Jamie O'Brien cleared his throat. "See here, Maggie, Rosie's perfectly +right. There's no call for her to be kissing a stranger. She's too big a +girl for that." + +Mrs. O'Brien looked at her husband blankly. "Jamie O'Brien, how you +talk! Do you think it's becoming to call a man a stranger who's sitting +down with you at your own table?" + +Jamie turned to his guest politely. "I'm sure, Mr. Long, I don't know +what all this noise is about. I'm like Rosie here. I've never seen you +before to me knowledge. But that's neither here nor there. You're here +now and you're welcome, and I hope we'll be friends. So let us drop the +argument and sit down." + +It was an awkward beginning, but Jamie refused to be embarrassed and, +after a moment of silence, the others tried hard to follow his example. + +Harry was evidently bent on pleasing. + +"Ever been in St. Louis, Mr. O'Brien?" He spoke with a proprietorial air +as one might of a household pet, pronouncing the name of his city Louie. +"Fine place, St. Louie!" + +"For meself," Jamie answered unexpectedly, "I never much cared for it. +It's a hot hole!" + +Ellen flushed. "Why, Dad!" + +Jamie looked up impatiently. "What's the matter now?" + +"Dad, don't you know that St. Louie is where Harry lives?" + +"I do not!" Jamie answered truthfully. "And, if you ask me, Ellen, I +don't see why I should." + +"Jamie O'Brien!" Mrs. O'Brien gasped, "what's come over you? I haven't +heard you talk so much at table in ten years!" She turned to her guest. +"Would you believe me, Harry, there are weeks on end when I never get a +word out of him! Sometimes I think I'll forget how to talk meself for +lack of some one to exchange a word with! And to think," she concluded, +"that Jamie's been in St. Louie! I give you me word of honour I never +heard that before! Tell me, Jamie, when was it?" + +Jamie ruminated a moment. "It must have been before we were married." + +Mrs. O'Brien nodded her head. "That just proves what I always say: +little a woman can know about a man before she marries him." + +She talked on and Harry gave her every encouragement, laughing heartily +at her anecdotes, asking further details, and making himself so +generally pleasant that, before supper was half done, the opening +embarrassment was forgotten and Mrs. O'Brien was exclaiming: "Well, +Harry, I must say one thing: I feel like I'd known you forever!" + +Harry glanced at Ellen. "Shall we tell them?" + +Ellen drew a quick breath. "We've got to sometime," she murmured. + +Harry beamed on Mrs. O'Brien. "I'm mighty glad to hear you say that, +Mrs. O'Brien. There's nothing would please me better than to have you +like me. In fact, I'm hoping you like me well enough to take me for a +son-in-law!" + +Mrs. O'Brien gasped: "What's this you're saying, Harry?" + +Rosie, pale and tense, stood up. "Ellen," she said, looking straight at +her sister, "have you told him about Jarge Riley?" + +Ellen laughed a little unsteadily. "Yes, Rosie, I told him. And I see +now you were right. It wasn't fair to Harry not to tell him. And I want +to apologize for getting so mad." + +"Yes, Rosie was right," Harry repeated, smiling at her kindly. "Rosie +must have known I was dead gone on Ellen and meant business." + +Rosie was not to be taken in by any such palaver as that. "No, Mr. Long, +you're mistaken. I was only thinking about Jarge Riley. Ellen's going to +marry him in the spring." + +Harry still smiled at her ingratiatingly. "She's not going to marry him +now, Rosie. She can't because, don't you see, she married me this +afternoon!" + +"What!" Rosie, feeling suddenly sick and weak, crumpled down into her +chair, a nerveless little mass that gaped and blinked and waited for the +world to come to an end. + +There was a pause broken at last by an hysterical laugh from Ellen. +"Don't look at me like that, Rosie! I should think you'd be glad I was +married to some one else!" + +Ellen's words brought Rosie to her senses. "I am glad!" she cried. "You +never cared two straws about Jarge, anyhow! But why did you have to be +so crooked with him? When he finds out the way you've done this, it'll +just break his heart! I guess I know!" + +Jamie O'Brien cleared his throat. "Rosie, you talk too much! Will you +just hold your tongue a minute while I find out what all this clatter's +about. Mr. Long, sir, will you be so good as to explain things?" + +There was no smile on Jamie's face and Harry, looking at him, seemed to +realize that it was not a time for pleasantries. + +"I hope, Mr. O'Brien," he began soberly, "that you'll forgive me for not +taking things more slowly. I expected to until this morning when Ellen +told me about this Riley fellow. Then I sort of lost my head. I was +afraid of delays and misunderstandings. I've been just crazy about +Ellen. The first time I saw her I knew she was the girl for me and I +came to town today to tell her so. I suppose she knew what I was going +to say and down at the shop, the very first thing, she began telling me +about Riley. Mighty straight of her, I call it. She had got herself +engaged to him but she didn't want to marry him, and it just seemed to +me that the easiest way out of things was for us to get married right +quick. So we hustled over the river and got to the courthouse just +before closing time. It was really my fault, Mr. O'Brien. I made Ellen +do it." + +Jamie looked at Ellen thoughtfully. "I don't believe you'd have made her +do it if she hadn't wanted to do it." + +"You're right, Dad," Ellen said; "I did want to. I didn't know how +little I cared about George or any one else until Harry came along. +George is good and kind and all that, but we'd never have made a team. I +knew it perfectly well and I was wrong not to tell him so." + +Jamie nodded his head. "You're right, Ellen. You've treated him pretty +badly." + +Her father's apparent blame of Ellen brought Mrs. O'Brien back to life +and to speech. "Jamie O'Brien, I don't see how you can talk so about +poor Ellen! You know yourself many's the time I've said to you, 'I can't +see Ellen milkin' a cow.' For me own part I think she's wise to choose +the life she has." + +"Do you know the life she's chosen?" Jamie asked quietly. "I'm frank to +say I don't." He turned to Harry. "Since you're me son-in-law, Mr. Long, +perhaps you'll be willing to tell me who you are." + +"Oh, Dad!" Ellen murmured, and Mrs. O'Brien whispered, "Why, Jamie!" + +Harry flushed but answered promptly: "I'm twenty-six years old. I'm a +St. Louie man. I'm a travelling salesman for the Great Ostrich Feather +Company, head office at St. Louie. I'm on a twenty dollar a week salary +with commissions that usually run me up to thirty dollars." + +Harry paused and Jamie remarked: "Plenty for a single man. You might +even have saved a bit on it, I'm thinking." + +Harry hesitated. "No," he said slowly; "I'll tell you the truth. I've +been kind of a fool about money. I haven't saved a cent." + +Rosie sat up suddenly. "I knew it!" she cried. + +"Rosie!" whispered Mrs. O'Brien. "Shame on you!" + +"Well, I just did!" Rosie insisted. + +Her father, paying no heed to her, went on with his catechism: "But even +if you didn't save anything, I'm thinking with that salary you're not in +debt." + +"Dad!" murmured Ellen in an agony of embarrassment. + +"Be quiet, Ellen, and let your husband talk." + +The flush on Harry's face deepened. "I'm sorry to say I have a few +debts--not many. I've been paying them off since I've known Ellen." + +"There!" cried Mrs. O'Brien in triumph. "Do you hear that, Jamie!" + +"Since you've known Ellen," Jamie repeated. "How long may that be?" + +"I think it's nearly a month." + +"H'm! Nearly a month.... Well, now, Mr. Long, since you've got a wife +and a few debts, is it your idea, if I might ask you, to start +housekeeping?" + +"Dad!" Ellen cried; "I don't see why you put it that way! We've got +everything planned out." + +Jamie was imperturbable. "I'd like to hear your plans, Ellen." + +"We're not going housekeeping. I hate housekeeping, anyway. We're going +boarding." + +"Boarding, do you say?" Jamie ruminated a moment. "If you were to ask +me, Mr. Long, I'd tell you that twenty dollars won't go far in +supporting a wife in idleness." + +"Ellen don't want to be idle, Mr. O'Brien. It's her own idea to keep on +with millinery, and of course I can get her into a good shop in St. +Louie." + +It was Mrs. O'Brien's turn to feel dismay. "Do you mean to tell me, +Ellen, that, as a married woman, you're keeping on working?" + +Ellen's answer was decided. "I'd rather do millinery than housekeeping. +Millinery ain't half as hard for me. I told Harry so this afternoon and +he said all right." + +"But, Ellen dear," wailed Mrs. O'Brien, "people'll be thinking that your +husband can't support you!" + +Ellen laughed. "As long as I know different, that won't matter." + +Jamie gave Ellen unexpected support. "Maggie, I think Ellen's right. +It'll be much better to be a good milliner than a poor housekeeper." +Jamie paused and looked at the young people thoughtfully. "Well, you're +married now, both of you, and perhaps you're well matched. I dunno. +Ellen's been a headstrong girl, never thinking of any one but herself +and, from your own account, Harry, you're much the same. You've both +jumped into this thing without thinking, but you'll have plenty of time +for thinking from now on. Well, it's high time you both had a bit of +discipline. It'll make a man and a woman of you. I don't altogether like +the way you've started out, but you're started now and there's no more +to say. So here's my hand on it, Harry, and may neither of you regret +this day!" + +Jamie reached across the table and the younger man, in grateful +humility, grasped his hand. "Thank you, Mr. O'Brien," he said simply. +"You've made me see a few things." + +Ellen got up and went around to her father's chair. "I have been +thoughtless and selfish, Dad. I see that now. I hope you'll forgive me." +There were tears in her eyes, and her lips, as she put them against her +father's cheek, trembled a little. + +Harry turned himself to the task of winning his mother-in-law. "Is it +all right, Mrs. O'Brien?" + +All right, indeed! Who could resist so handsome a son-in-law? Certainly +not Mrs. O'Brien. She broke out in tears and laughter. + +[Illustration: They all looked at Rosie, who sat, oblivious of them, +staring off into nothing.] + +"Ah, Harry, you rogue, come here and kiss me this minute!... Why," she +continued, "do you know, Harry, I had a presintimint the moment you +entered the gate! 'What a fine-looking couple!' says I to meself. And +the next minute I says, 'I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they made a +match of it!' Why, Harry, I've never seen a fella come and turn us all +topsy-turvy as you've done! Here I am talkin' me head off and Jamie +O'Brien's been doing the same! Do you mind, Ellen, the way your da's +been talkin'? You're not sick, are you, Jamie?" + +Jamie chuckled quietly. "It's just I'm a little excited having a +daughter run off and get married." + +"Oh, Dad!" Ellen begged. + +"I suppose," Jamie went on, "Rosie'll be at it next." + +They all looked at Rosie, who sat, oblivious of them, staring off into +nothing. + +"What's the matter, Rosie?" her father asked. + +Rosie roused herself. "I was just thinking about Jarge. Who's going to +tell him?" + +"Ellen, of course," Jamie said. "Ellen'll have to write him." + +"But will she do it?" Rosie persisted. + +A look of annoyance crossed Ellen's face. "Of course I will. I'll have +plenty of time because I'm not going to St. Louie for a week. I'll write +him tomorrow." + +Rosie looked at her sister curiously. She wanted to say: "You know +perfectly well you won't write him tomorrow or the next day or the day +after. You'll put it off from day to day and at last you'll go, and +then you'll never think of it again and poor Jarge'll come down here on +Thanksgiving expecting to find you, and then we'll have to tell him." + +This is what Rosie wanted to say. But she restrained herself. When she +spoke, it was in a different tone. "All right, Ellen, I won't bother you +again. What dad says is true: you and Harry are married and that's all +there is about it. I hope you'll both be happy." Rosie hesitated a +moment, then walked over to Harry's chair. "And, Harry, I'm sorry I was +rude to you when you tried to kiss me. You see, I didn't know you were +Ellen's husband." + +Rosie hadn't intended to be funny, but evidently she was, for a shout of +laughter went up and Harry gathered her in with a hug and a kiss. + +"You're all right, Rosie!" he whispered. "I like you for the way you +stand up for George!" + +_For the way she stood up for George!_... Tears filled Rosie's eyes. She +had tried faithfully to guard George's interests like the little +watch-dog Ellen had called her. But George would never know. How could +he? All he would know now was that he had been betrayed. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +THE GREATEST TEACHER IN THE WORLD + + +Rosie kept her promise faithfully. During the week that elapsed before +Ellen's departure, she was careful not to mention George Riley's name. +The time for discussion of any subject that might prove unpleasant to +Ellen was past. Ellen was going, never to return--at any rate, never as +one of them in the sense that she had been one of them and, for their +own sakes as well as for hers, it behooved them all to make those last +days as frictionless as possible. The approaching separation did not +bring Rosie any closer to Ellen nor Ellen any closer to her, but it made +them both strangely considerate of one another and also a little shy. + +Like Rosie, Terence and Jack regarded Ellen's going with deep interest +but with very little feeling. Between them and her there had always been +war and there probably always would be if they continued to live under +the same roof. They had their mother's word for it that Ellen was their +own sister and that they ought to love her, but they did not for that +reason love her nor did she love them. Yet they did not question that +pretty fallacy which their mother offered them as an axiom, namely, +that love is the inevitable bond between brothers and sisters, since +boys and girls, like men and women, have a way of keeping separate the +truths of experience and the forms of inherited belief. With Rosie they +instinctively called a truce. Ellen will soon be gone, their attitude +said, so let's not fight any more. To show their sincerity, Terry +polished Ellen's shoes and asked if there was anything more he could do, +and Jack ran numberless errands without once asking payment. + +Mrs. O'Brien more than made up for the indifference of the rest of the +family. Her grief at Ellen's departure was very genuine and very loud. +Ellen had always seemed to her mother a paragon of beauty and talent and +now she had made a fine match and was going off to St. Louie, poor girl, +where she'd be far away from her own people in case of illness or +distress. Mrs. O'Brien was so nearly overcome at the actual moment of +farewell that Jamie and Terry had to drag her off to a soda fountain +before the train was fairly started. + +Ellen, too, was affected at the last as Rosie had never seen her +affected. She kissed Rosie, then looked at her a moment sadly. "Say, +kid," she said, "I'm sorry we haven't been better friends. I'm afraid it +was my fault." + +Rosie gulped. "I was as much to blame as you. I see it now." + +Ellen touched Rosie's cheek impulsively. "If ever I get a home of my +own in St. Louie, will you come and make me a visit?" + +Rosie's thought was: "If ever you get a home of your own, you'll never +remember me." Her spoken answer, though, was all that it should be: +"Ellen, I'd love to." + +Rosie, you see, knew Ellen's character pretty well. What she did not +know and could not as yet know was this: that the Ellen of tomorrow +might not be quite the Ellen of today; that life probably held +experiences for Ellen that would at last make her look back on home and +family with a new understanding and a feeling of genuine tenderness. + +Ellen's train pulled out and Rosie watched it go with a sigh of relief. +The chapter of Family Chronicles entitled Ellen was finished. That is, +it was finished so far as any new interest was concerned. Yet, like the +hand of a dead man touching the living through the clauses of a last +will, so Ellen, though gone, continued to touch Rosie on a spot already +sensitive beyond endurance. + +Rosie had not spoken of George Riley during Ellen's last week. She had +tried to suppress even the thought of him. Now the time was come when +she had again to think of him, and she was so tired and weary of the +whole problem that she felt unequal to the task of working out its +solution. + +"Do you know, Danny," she remarked that afternoon to her old friend, +"I'd give anything to go off somewheres where I don't know anybody and +where nobody knows me. I'm just so tired of this old town that I don't +know what to do." + +Danny nodded sympathetically. "I'm thinking you're in need of a little +change, Rosie. Maybe you could go out to the country for a day or two at +Thanksgiving." + +Rosie knew perfectly well what Danny meant but, for conversational +reasons, she asked: "Where in the country, Danny?" + +"Well, I was thinking of the Riley farm. I'm sure Mrs. Riley would be +crazy to have you." + +Rosie shook her head. "I can't go out there because Jarge is coming +here." She paused a moment. "He's coming to see Ellen. You know, Danny, +he thinks he's engaged to Ellen." + +"What!" Danny's little eyes blinked rapidly. "Don't he know yet that +she's married to the other fella?" + +"How can he know when no one's told him? Ellen said she would, but of +course she didn't." + +Danny's expression grew serious. "Rosie dear, he ought to be told! He +ought t' have been told at once! You don't mean to say, Rosie, you'll +let him come down on Thanksgiving without a word of warning?" + +Rosie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't see that it's any of my +business." + +Danny looked at her sharply. "Why, Rosie dear, what's come over you?" + +Rosie sighed. "I don't know, Danny. I'm just kind o' tired of things." +She made a sudden change of subject. "Wisht I didn't have to go to +school! I hate school this year. I don't see why I have to go, anyway. +I'm not going to be a teacher." + +There was no mistaking Rosie's dejection and Danny, instead of scoffing +it away, accepted it quietly. + +"I'm sorry to hear you say that about school, Rosie. I was thinkin' +you'd be in High School next year." + +"I would be, if I passed. Ellen went through High School, and now +Terry's in the first year, and of course dad wants me to go, too. But I +don't see why I should. You know, Danny, I'm not very bright in school. +I'm not a bit like Janet. I've got to work awful hard just barely to +pass. I don't think I'd have passed last year if Janet hadn't helped me. +But I can cook and do a lot of things that Janet can't do. I know +perfectly well I could never be a teacher, so I don't see the use of +keeping on at school." + +"You surprise me, Rosie!" Danny peered at her earnestly. "Do you think +that's the only reason for going to school--so's to be a teacher?" + +Rosie nodded. "I don't see any other." + +"And what do you want to be, Rosie?" + +"I don't want to be anything." + +"Don't you want to do something?" + +"No." + +"But, Rosie dear, that's no way to talk. You know you can't sit through +life with folded hands, doing nothing." + +Rosie protested: "But, Danny, I don't expect to do nothing. I know I +have to work and I do work, too. You ask ma. I take care of Geraldine +night and day, and you needn't think it isn't a big job taking care of a +baby, because it is. And I used to take care of Jarge Riley, too. Old +Mis' Riley herself told me I took as good care of him as she did. And +she meant it, too. Oh, I could just work forever for Geraldine and +Jarge." + +Danny looked at her a few moments in silence. "Rosie dear," he said +gently, "pull your chair over close. I want to talk to you." + +Rosie obeyed and, after a slight pause, Danny continued: "You're +troubled about Jarge, aren't you, Rosie?" + +Rosie's eyes filled with tears. "I suppose I am, Danny." + +"Rosie," Danny asked slowly, "are you in love with Jarge?" + +The question startled Rosie. She stared blankly through her tears. "Why, +Danny, how can you say a thing like that? I'm only a little girl and +Jarge is a grown man!" + +"But you'd like to take care of him all the time, wouldn't you, Rosie?" + +Rosie nodded. "You bet I would! If I could have just Jarge and +Geraldine, I wouldn't care how hard I'd have to work! I'd do anything +for both of them. Don't you know, Danny, I just feel like they're +_mine_!" + +"I thought so, Rosie." Danny sighed and cleared his throat. "Now listen +carefully, Rosie, what I've got to say. As you say yourself you're only +a little girl now, but in a few years you'll be a big girl, as big as +Ellen is today. And then perhaps, Rosie, you'll be marrying some one." + +"No, Danny, no!" Rosie cried. "I don't want to be marrying some one, +honest I don't!" + +Danny waved aside the interruption. "As I was saying, perhaps you'll be +marrying some one, and then after while you'll be having babies of your +own." + +"Oh, Danny!" A look of wonder, almost of ecstasy, spread over Rosie's +face. Instinctively her arms reached out for the precious burden of the +future. "Do you really mean it, Danny?" she whispered. "My _own_!" + +"Yes, Rosie, I mean it. And you'll be a wonderful mother, for you'll +know how to feed your children properly and take proper care of them. +But in one way, Rosie, I fear you'll be a pretty poor mother." + +The light in Rosie's eyes went out. "Why do you say that, Danny?" + +"You won't be able to help them in their schoolin' and they'll probably +all turn out poor ignur'nt b'ys and girls, with no opportunity to rise +in the world. And if they do get on in school, they'll soon be scornin' +their poor mother and lookin' down on her because she hasn't had the +education she might have had. And when their father sees how they feel, +I'm afeared he'll begin feelin' the same and thinkin' he'd made an awful +mistake marryin' such an ignur'nt woman." + +"Oh, Danny, stop! Stop!" Tears of self-pity already filled Rosie's eyes. + +"So I say to you, Rosie, if I was a little girl, I'd want to keep on +going to school even if I didn't expect to be a teacher. And for that +matter, darlint, isn't a mother the greatest teacher in the world? +Aren't you yourself Geraldine's teacher every day of your life?" + +Rosie's eyes stretched wide in surprise. "Danny, I believe you're right! +A mother is a teacher, isn't she?" + +"Sure she is, Rosie. And the better her own education is, the better +chance she has of being a good teacher. That stands to reason, don't it +now?" + +Rosie nodded slowly. "Do you know, Danny, I never thought of that +before." She ruminated a moment. "Really and truly it just seems like +every girl in the world ought to have a good education. I always did +think that ignorant mothers were awful and they are, too." + +"You're right, Rosie, they are. They're a hindrance to their children +instead of a help." + +Rosie took a deep breath. "Wouldn't it just be wonderful to have a baby +really and truly your own?" She gazed off into space. Then her +expression changed. "But, Danny, I'll never marry." + +"Is that so?" Danny started to laugh, then checked himself. + +"You see, Danny, it's this way: Maybe you're right. Maybe I am in love +with Jarge. Anyway, I know I'll never love anybody else half as much as +I love him." + +"If that's the case," Danny remarked casually, "the only thing for you +to do is to marry Jarge." + +"Danny!" Rosie looked at him reproachfully. "I don't think it's kind of +you to make fun of me that way. I know I'm only a kid." + +"I didn't mean to marry him this minute," Danny explained. "I expected +you to take your time about it--after you had finished school and were +grown up and all that." + +"Oh!" Rosie sat up very straight. She spoke a little breathlessly. "But, +Danny, won't Jarge be too old then?" + +Danny drew a long face. "I had forgotten all about that, Rosie. To be +sure he will. He must be ten or fifteen years older than you this +minute." + +"No, Danny, no! He's not! He's only six years older--about six and a +half. I'm thirteen now. I had a birthday last month. And he's nineteen +and a half. I know because he's four months older than Ellen." + +"Six years, do you say?" Danny mumbled. "Well, now, that's a good many, +Rosie. Let's see: when you're eighteen, he'll be twenty-four. H'm. At +twenty-four a lad's getting on, ain't he? Of course a lot of them don't +marry nowadays till thirty but, if they'd ask me advice, I'd tell them +to settle down with the right girl by the time they're twenty-five.... +Yes, Rosie, you're right: Jarge'd be pretty old. Six years is a pretty +big difference." + +Rosie tossed her head. "I'm not so sure about that! Let's see now: Harry +Long is twenty-six and that makes him seven years older than Ellen, and +I'm sure Harry and Ellen look fine together! No one would ever think of +calling Harry old! Why, he don't look a bit old!" + +Danny shrugged his shoulders. "Well, Rosie, have it your own way!" + +"Danny Agin, how you talk! Have it my own way, indeed! It isn't my way, +it's just facts!" + +Danny looked bored. "Well, anyway, it's all in the future, so why are we +arguin' now? You'll be falling in love and probably falling out again +with half a dozen lads before you're eighteen, and by the time you're +twenty you'll probably be happily married to some one you've never yet +laid eyes on. That's how it goes. And in that case, you'll have long +since forgotten all about poor old Jarge Riley." + +"Is that so?" Rosie spoke rather coldly, not to say sarcastically. +However, she did not dispute Danny's word. If that was his opinion, he +was, of course, welcome to it. By the same token, Rosie claimed a like +privilege for herself. The way she pressed her lips together told very +plainly that her opinion differed somewhat from Danny's. + +Presently Danny opened on another subject. "Now about Jarge Riley: If +you ask me advice, Rosie, I think you had better write him a letter. It +would be a bad thing to have him come down here not knowin' about +Ellen." + +Rosie's face changed. "But, Danny, it would be an awful hard letter to +write and, besides, it isn't my business." + +"That's so," Danny agreed. "Perhaps now you'd better not meddle. When I +suggested it, it was only because I was thinkin' that you and Jarge were +such good friends that you'd be wantin' to spare him a little. But, +after all, he's a man, so he might as well come down and find things out +for himself. It'll be an awful shock, but no matter. Besides, maybe +Ellen'll write him. In fact, I'm sure she will." + +"Ellen!" Rosie snorted scornfully. "Ellen never yet has done anything +she hasn't wanted to do and I don't see her beginning now!" + +"We've all got to begin some time," Danny remarked. + +Rosie pointed her finger impressively. "Danny Agin, I know Ellen O'Brien +Long better than you do and, when I say she'll never write a line to +Jarge, I guess I know what I'm talking about." + +"I'm sure you do," Danny murmured meekly. "If you say she won't, she +won't. I wouldn't question your word for a hundred dollars. If you tell +me that Jarge is not to get a letter, then it's settled. He won't get a +letter." Danny sighed. "Poor Jarge! I do feel sorry for him! It'll be an +awful shock to him!" Danny sighed again. "But, of course, every one has +to take a few shocks in this life. Ah, me!" + +Rosie sighed, too. "If I was to write him, Danny, what would I say?" + +Danny wagged his head. "It'd be a pretty hard letter and, as you say +yourself, why should you?" + +"I know it would be hard," Rosie agreed, "but, if I wanted to write it, +I guess it wouldn't be too hard for me. Only I'm not quite sure what to +say." + +Danny squinted his little eyes thoughtfully. "Well, Rosie, if I was +writing such a letter, to begin with I'd tell me bad news as quickly as +I could and have it over with. Then, if it was some one I was real fond +of, I'd tell him what I thought of him. It don't hurt any one to be told +he has a friend or two. Then I'd fill in with all the family news and +talk I could, so's he wouldn't feel lonely. At first he wouldn't have +eyes for anything but the bad news, but, after while, he'd begin to take +comfort from the rest of the letter and, if it was written with lots of +love and feelin', I'm thinkin' there'd come a time when he'd be readin' +that part over and over and over again, I dunno how many times, and +takin' a little more comfort from it each time." + +Rosie stood up a little breathlessly. "Good-bye, Danny. I must hurry +home. I've got something to do." + +"Don't be runnin' off," Danny begged. "Besides, I'm not done yet with +the letter. As I was sayin', I wouldn't try to finish it in one sitting. +I'd write at it as much as I could every day and in a week's time it'd +be a good big letter." + +"But, Danny, Thanksgiving's not more than three weeks off!" + +"Three weeks, do you say? That's bad. The poor lad ought to be given two +weeks' notice at least. So if any one was to write him, they'd better +begin at once. They'd have to write every day for a week pretty +steadily." + +"Is that all, Danny?" + +"It's all I think of just now. If you was to sit awhile longer, Rosie, +maybe something more would come to me." + +"I don't believe I better, Danny. I'm awful busy. I must get home." + +"But you'll stop awhile tomorrow, darlint, won't you? Promise me you +will." + +Rosie thought a moment. "It's this way, Danny: I'm a little behind in +school and I've got to catch up. And, besides that, I'll be very busy +for a week on something else. I don't believe I'll have time to stop +tomorrow but, if I have, I will. Good-bye." + +Rosie started off, then turned back a little shyly. She put her arm +about old Danny's neck and kissed him on the cheek. "Danny, you're +awful good to me. And do you know, Danny, after Jarge and Geraldine and +Janet I think I love you best of all!" + +Danny chuckled. "Well, I suppose fourth ch'ice is better than no ch'ice +at all!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +THE ROSIE MORROW + + +For a whole week Rosie worked away at her letter. She followed Danny's +advice and added new pages each day. As a result her manuscript grew in +bulk with startling rapidity. She had to buy a big envelope for it and +then spend a large part of a week's wages on postage stamps. + +Here is what she wrote: + +DEAR GEORGE, + +How are you and how is your mother and how is your father? Tell your +mother that Geraldine is growing so fast that she would hardly know her. + +George, I've got some bad news for you. Only it isn't as bad as it +sounds, for I know it will be all right in the end. George, Ellen's got +married. He's a feather salesman. He wears sporty clothes. He's +twenty-six years old. That makes him seven years older than Ellen. He's +a good-looker. Him and Ellen are just the same kind. They both like to +dress and to gad around. + +George, I know you're going to feel awful bad about this at first, but +listen, George, it would have been an awful thing to plant Ellen out on +a farm. She would have hated it. She would have been unhappy and that +would have made you unhappy. And I don't think Ellen and your mother +would have liked each other either and they would have to live together +and then where would you be? George, don't you see, you're a farmer and +you ought to pick out the kind of girl that likes farm life and that +knows how to work. George, Ellen just loves the city where she can go to +the theatre and dances and things and she never would like the country. +Don't you see, George? I don't mean that Ellen was right to get married +without telling you. She ought to have told you. I know that. But, +George, I think she was a little bit scared of you. Really and truly, +George, I don't think she would ever have got engaged to you if that +Hawes man hadn't insulted her. Then afterwards, George, she didn't know +how to get away from you. But she wanted to, honest she did. + +George, I'm awful sorry to be the one to tell you this. But I thought I +better because it wouldn't be fair to have you come down on Thanksgiving +without knowing. And I thought it would be better for you to hear it +from me than from any one else. You and me, George, are awful good +friends and I love you like I love Geraldine and I'd give anything not +to have to tell you something that will hurt you and make you feel bad. +Honest, George, I'm awful sorry. + +George, all your friends always ask for you. The other day Danny Agin +asked about you. Danny's pretty well but he ain't very strong these days +and me and Mrs. Agin are a little bit worried. I don't know what I'd do +without Danny. Sometimes he thinks he's funny and then me and Mrs. Agin +have to scold him, but I just love him and so does Mrs. Agin even when +she pretends she don't. You know, George, you can't help it because +really and truly he's always so kind and gentle. And he gives awful good +advice when you're worried about something. I always stand up for Danny. +I told him once that he is my fourth best friend. I put you first, +George, and then Geraldine, and then Janet. + +And, George, do you know about Janet? Dave McFadden has never once fell +off the water wagon! What do you know about that? Mrs. McFadden got home +from the hospital just after you left. She's real weak and she'll +probably never be able to work again. She just sits around and complains +and what do you think? Dave waits on her like she was a baby and don't +say a word. Miss Harris from the Settlement House explained about it to +Janet and me. She said that time that Dave was laid up with a broken leg +and Mrs. McFadden began working out and Dave saw how easy it was for him +to get along without supporting Mrs. McFadden and Janet that he lost the +sense of family responsibility. And Miss Harris says it just took a +thing like this to wake him up. And Miss Harris says it was Mrs. +McFadden's big mistake to take Dave's place ever because lots of men +are just that way when they see their wives and mothers can earn money +by working out they just let them and Miss Harris says a woman has +enough to do at home and taking care of her children. I'm sure my mother +has, don't you think so, George? + +The McFaddens are real comfortable now because all Dave's money comes +home. They're going to move out of that horrible tenement next week. +They've rented a little four-room house in the next block to us. Janet +ain't very good friends with her father. She hardly ever talks to him +and he hardly ever talks to her. She says how can she when she looks at +her mother. But she says now she'll keep on at school. She thought she'd +have to go to work. You know Janet's just crazy about school. She wants +to go through High School and be a teacher. I want to go through High +School, too, but I don't want to be a teacher. I think a girl ought to +go through High School, don't you, George? because if she ever has any +children of her own she wouldn't want them to grow up and think their +mother was an ignorant old thing. And, besides, if she hasn't got a good +education herself, how can she teach her children? And really and truly, +George, you know a good mother has to be a teacher. Did you ever think +of that before? + +George, I don't suppose I'll ever marry. But if I was to marry, do you +know the kind of man I'd pick out? I'd take a farmer every time! I just +love the country, George, and I just love the kind of work a farmer's +wife has to do. You ask your mother if I don't. There wasn't a thing +that Mrs. Riley did last summer that she didn't teach me, and she told +me herself I was awful quick about learning. + +My, my, George, did you ever think how fast time flies? Here I'm +thirteen now and it won't be hardly any time before I'm eighteen. When +I'm eighteen I'll be grown up and getting ready to graduate from High +School. Will you promise me to come down and see the graduation? I'd +rather have you come than any one else in the world. Let's see how old +you'll be then? You'll be twenty-four. That's not so awful old. Maybe +you won't even be married. Lots of men nowadays don't get married until +they're thirty. But I think you ought to get married by the time you're +twenty-five. And you ought to get a wife that would love your mother and +would be willing to take some of the work off her shoulders. That's why +I say to you that you ought to pick out a girl that loves the country +and isn't afraid of work. And you ought to take a girl that's gone +through High School, too, because it's a mistake for a man to marry an +ignorant woman that he'd be ashamed of. + +George, I can't tell you how much I miss you. I miss you every day. We +always had such good times together, didn't we? Do you remember all the +times you took me to the movies and for street-car rides and things like +that? I remember every one of them. And whenever I was bothered about +anything you were always so kind to me. Other people are kind to me, +too. Danny Agin is. I love Danny Agin, too, but I love you first. + +George, I don't think I could get on without you if I didn't have +Geraldine. Seems like I just got to have some one to love. When I get +real lonely for you, I take Geraldine and give her a good scrubbing and +then dress her up and take her out for a walk. + +George, I don't know when I'll see you again, but listen here, George, I +want you to remember one thing. It won't make any difference how long it +is because I'll love you just the same. + +And, George, I love your mother, too, and she told me that she loved me. +Will you tell her that I hope she's well and that I'll never forget how +kind she was to me and Geraldine last summer. And I hope your father's +well, too. + +Terry says to say Hello to you. And he says, how's farming? Jackie's +getting awful big and he's real smart in school. He always gets a +hundred in problems. + +Ma and dad are well and I told you all about Janet. So that's all now. + + With love, + Yours truly, + ROSIE O'BRIEN. + + + + +"_THE CHEERIEST, HAPPIEST BOOKS_" + +By JULIE M. LIPPMANN + + +Martha By-the-Day + +Thirteenth printing. $1.00 net. + +The story of a big, kindly Irish char-woman, a marvel of physical +strength and shrewd humor, who takes under her wing a well-born but +friendless girl whom she finds alone and helpless in New York. + + "No sweeter humor has been written into a book."--_Hartford + Courant._ + + "Cheeriest, most warm-hearted and humorous character since Mrs. + Wiggs."--_Living Age._ + + "Half an hour with 'Martha' puts one on better terms with the + world."--_Washington_ (D. C.) _Star._ + + +Making Over Martha + +Fifth printing. $1.20 net. + +This story follows "Martha" and her family to the country, where she +again finds a love affair on her hands. + + "Fresh, wholesome, entertaining."--_Churchman._ + + "'Martha' is not of the stuff to die."--_Bellman._ + + "'Martha' brings hard sense and good humor."--_New York Sun._ + + +Martha and Cupid + +Tells how "Martha" came to choose "Sam Slosson" for her husband, how she +spent the fund for her wedding outfit, how she solved the +"mother-in-law" and other "problems" in her family life. Just ready. +$1.00 net. + + + + +_By CONINGSBY DAWSON_ + +The Garden Without Walls + +The story of the adventures in love of the hero till his thirtieth year +is as fascinating as are the three heroines. His Puritan stock is in +constant conflict with his Pagan imagination. Ninth printing. $1.35 net. + + "Never did hero find himself the adored of three more enchanting + heroines. A book which will deserve the popularity it is certain + to achieve."--_The Independent._ + + "Mr. Dawson has dared splendidly to write, in a glorious + abandon, a story all interwoven with a glow of romance almost + medieval in its pagan color, yet wholly modern in its + import."--_Samuel Abbott, in The Boston Herald._ + + "All vivid with the color of life; a novel to compel not only + absorbed attention, but long remembrance."--_The Boston + Transcript._ + + "The most enjoyable first novel since De Morgan's 'Joseph + Vance.'"--_J. B. Kerfoot_, in _Life_. + + +The Raft + +A story of high gallantry, which teaches that even modern life is an +affair of courageous chivalry. The story is crowded with over thirty +significant characters, some whimsical, some tender, some fanciful; all +are poignantly real with their contrasting ideals and purposes. + +"The Raft" is a panorama of everyday, available romance. Just ready. +$1.35 net. + + +Florence on a Certain Night (and Other Poems) + +12mo. $1.25 net. + + "The work of a true lyric poet who 'utters his own + soul.'"--_Literary Digest._ + + "The preeminent quality in all Mr. Dawson's verse is the union + of delicacy and strength. A generation which has all but + forgotten the meaning of the phrase 'to keep himself unspotted + from the world' has great need of this sort of + poetry."--_Providence Journal._ + + + + +BY INEZ HAYNES GILLMORE + + +ANGEL ISLAND + +With 2 illustrations by JOHN RAE. $1.35 net. + +This strange, picturesque romance, with its deep underlying +significance, won praise from such high authorities as _The Bookman_, +_The Evening Post_, _The Times Review_, _The Chicago Record-Herald_, and +_The Boston Transcript_, the last of which says: "Fine types of men ... +the five women are magnificent creatures.... Always the story carries +itself, but always it is pregnant with the larger suggestion, which +gives it its place in feminist literature." + + +PHOEBE AND ERNEST + +With 30 illustrations by R. F. SCHABELITZ. $1.35 net. + +Parents will recognize themselves in the story, and laugh +understandingly with, and sometimes at, Mr. and Mrs. Martin and their +children, Phoebe and Ernest. + + "We must go back to Louisa Alcott for their equals."--_Boston + Advertiser._ + + "For young and old alike we know of no more refreshing + story."--_New York Evening Post._ + + +PHOEBE, ERNEST, AND CUPID + +Illustrated by R. F. SCHABELITZ. $1.35 net. + +In this sequel to the popular "Phoebe and Ernest," each of these +delightful young folk goes to the altar. + + "To all jaded readers of problem novels, to all weary wayfarers + on the rocky literary road of social pessimism and domestic woe, + we recommend 'Phoebe, Ernest, and Cupid' with all our hearts: it + is not only cheerful, it's true."--_N. Y. Times Review._ + + "Wholesome, merry, absolutely true to life."--_The Outlook._ + + +JANEY + +Illustrated by ADA C. WILLIAMSON. $1.25 net. + +"Being the record of a short interval in the journey thru life and the +struggle with society of a little girl of nine." + + "Depicts youthful human nature as one who knows and loves it. + Her 'Phoebe and Ernest' studies are deservedly popular, and now, + in 'Janey,' this clever writer has accomplished an equally + charming portrait."--_Chicago Record-Herald._ + + + + +WILLIAM DE MORGAN'S NOVELS + +"WHY ALL THIS POPULARITY?" asks E. V. LUCAS, writing in the _Outlook_ of +De Morgan's Novels. He answers: De Morgan is "almost the perfect example +of the humorist; certainly the completest since Lamb.... Humor, however, +is not all.... In the De Morgan world it is hard to find an unattractive +figure.... The charm of the young women, all brave and humorous and gay, +and all trailing clouds of glory from the fairyland from which they have +just come." + + +JOSEPH VANCE + +The story of a great sacrifice and a life-long love. + + "The book of the last decade; the best thing in fiction since + Mr. Meredith and Mr. Hardy; must take its place as the first + great English novel that has appeared in the twentieth + century."--LEWIS MELVILLE in _New York Times Saturday Review_. + + +ALICE-FOR-SHORT + +The romance of an unsuccessful man, in which the long buried past +reappears in London of to-day. + + "If any writer of the present era is read a half century hence, + a quarter century, or even a decade, that writer is William De + Morgan."--_Boston Transcript._ + + +SOMEHOW GOOD + +How two brave women won their way to happiness. + + "A book as sound, as sweet, as wholesome, as wise, as any in the + range of fiction."--_The Nation._ + + +IT NEVER CAN HAPPEN AGAIN + +A story of the great love of Blind Jim and his little daughter, and of +the affairs of a successful novelist. + + "De Morgan at his very best, and how much better his best is + than the work of any novelist of the past thirty years."--_The + Independent._ + + +AN AFFAIR OF DISHONOR + +A very dramatic novel of Restoration days. + + "A marvelous example of Mr. De Morgan's inexhaustible fecundity + of invention.... Shines as a romance quite as much as 'Joseph + Vance' does among realistic novels."--_Chicago Record-Herald._ + + +A LIKELY STORY + + "Begins comfortably enough with a little domestic quarrel in a + studio.... The story shifts suddenly, however, to a brilliantly + told tragedy of the Italian Renaissance embodied in a girl's + portrait.... The many readers who like Mr. De Morgan will enjoy + this charming fancy greatly."--_New York Sun._ + + _A Likely Story, $1.35 net; the others, $1.75 each._ + + +WHEN GHOST MEETS GHOST + +The most "De Morganish" of all his stories. The scene is England in the +fifties. _862 pages. $1.60 net._ + + * * * * * + +.*. A thirty-two page illustrated leaflet about Mr. De Morgan, +with complete reviews of his first four books, sent on request. + + + HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY + PUBLISHERS NEW YORK + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + +Spelling and hyphenation have been retained as they appear in +the original publication. + +Changes have been made as follows: + + Page 175 on one side the gate _changed to_ + on one side of the gate + + Page 190 Good for Jarge! _changed to_ + Good for Jarge!" + + Page 227 had happened Janet _changed to_ + had happened to Janet + + In the advertisements + Louisa Olcott _changed to_ + Louisa Alcott + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rosie World, by Parker Fillmore + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ROSIE WORLD *** + +***** This file should be named 31718.txt or 31718.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/1/31718/ + +Produced by Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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