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diff --git a/447-0.txt b/447-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c286a58 --- /dev/null +++ b/447-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2984 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 447 *** + + + + +MAGGIE: A GIRL OF THE STREETS + +BY + +STEPHEN CRANE + + + + +Chapter I + +A very little boy stood upon a heap of gravel for the honor of Rum +Alley. He was throwing stones at howling urchins from Devil's Row who +were circling madly about the heap and pelting at him. + +His infantile countenance was livid with fury. His small body was +writhing in the delivery of great, crimson oaths. + +"Run, Jimmie, run! Dey'll get yehs," screamed a retreating Rum Alley +child. + +"Naw," responded Jimmie with a valiant roar, "dese micks can't make me +run." + +Howls of renewed wrath went up from Devil's Row throats. Tattered +gamins on the right made a furious assault on the gravel heap. On +their small, convulsed faces there shone the grins of true assassins. +As they charged, they threw stones and cursed in shrill chorus. + +The little champion of Rum Alley stumbled precipitately down the other +side. His coat had been torn to shreds in a scuffle, and his hat was +gone. He had bruises on twenty parts of his body, and blood was +dripping from a cut in his head. His wan features wore a look of a +tiny, insane demon. + +On the ground, children from Devil's Row closed in on their antagonist. +He crooked his left arm defensively about his head and fought with +cursing fury. The little boys ran to and fro, dodging, hurling stones +and swearing in barbaric trebles. + +From a window of an apartment house that upreared its form from amid +squat, ignorant stables, there leaned a curious woman. Some laborers, +unloading a scow at a dock at the river, paused for a moment and +regarded the fight. The engineer of a passive tugboat hung lazily to a +railing and watched. Over on the Island, a worm of yellow convicts +came from the shadow of a building and crawled slowly along the river's +bank. + +A stone had smashed into Jimmie's mouth. Blood was bubbling over his +chin and down upon his ragged shirt. Tears made furrows on his +dirt-stained cheeks. His thin legs had begun to tremble and turn weak, +causing his small body to reel. His roaring curses of the first part +of the fight had changed to a blasphemous chatter. + +In the yells of the whirling mob of Devil's Row children there were +notes of joy like songs of triumphant savagery. The little boys seemed +to leer gloatingly at the blood upon the other child's face. + +Down the avenue came boastfully sauntering a lad of sixteen years, +although the chronic sneer of an ideal manhood already sat upon his +lips. His hat was tipped with an air of challenge over his eye. +Between his teeth, a cigar stump was tilted at the angle of defiance. +He walked with a certain swing of the shoulders which appalled the +timid. He glanced over into the vacant lot in which the little raving +boys from Devil's Row seethed about the shrieking and tearful child +from Rum Alley. + +"Gee!" he murmured with interest. "A scrap. Gee!" + +He strode over to the cursing circle, swinging his shoulders in a +manner which denoted that he held victory in his fists. He approached +at the back of one of the most deeply engaged of the Devil's Row +children. + +"Ah, what deh hell," he said, and smote the deeply-engaged one on the +back of the head. The little boy fell to the ground and gave a hoarse, +tremendous howl. He scrambled to his feet, and perceiving, evidently, +the size of his assailant, ran quickly off, shouting alarms. The +entire Devil's Row party followed him. They came to a stand a short +distance away and yelled taunting oaths at the boy with the chronic +sneer. The latter, momentarily, paid no attention to them. + +"What deh hell, Jimmie?" he asked of the small champion. + +Jimmie wiped his blood-wet features with his sleeve. + +"Well, it was dis way, Pete, see! I was goin' teh lick dat Riley kid +and dey all pitched on me." + +Some Rum Alley children now came forward. The party stood for a moment +exchanging vainglorious remarks with Devil's Row. A few stones were +thrown at long distances, and words of challenge passed between small +warriors. Then the Rum Alley contingent turned slowly in the direction +of their home street. They began to give, each to each, distorted +versions of the fight. Causes of retreat in particular cases were +magnified. Blows dealt in the fight were enlarged to catapultian +power, and stones thrown were alleged to have hurtled with infinite +accuracy. Valor grew strong again, and the little boys began to swear +with great spirit. + +"Ah, we blokies kin lick deh hull damn Row," said a child, swaggering. + +Little Jimmie was striving to stanch the flow of blood from his cut +lips. Scowling, he turned upon the speaker. + +"Ah, where deh hell was yeh when I was doin' all deh fightin?" he +demanded. "Youse kids makes me tired." + +"Ah, go ahn," replied the other argumentatively. + +Jimmie replied with heavy contempt. "Ah, youse can't fight, Blue +Billie! I kin lick yeh wid one han'." + +"Ah, go ahn," replied Billie again. + +"Ah," said Jimmie threateningly. + +"Ah," said the other in the same tone. + +They struck at each other, clinched, and rolled over on the cobble +stones. + +"Smash 'im, Jimmie, kick deh damn guts out of 'im," yelled Pete, the +lad with the chronic sneer, in tones of delight. + +The small combatants pounded and kicked, scratched and tore. They +began to weep and their curses struggled in their throats with sobs. +The other little boys clasped their hands and wriggled their legs in +excitement. They formed a bobbing circle about the pair. + +A tiny spectator was suddenly agitated. + +"Cheese it, Jimmie, cheese it! Here comes yer fader," he yelled. + +The circle of little boys instantly parted. They drew away and waited +in ecstatic awe for that which was about to happen. The two little +boys fighting in the modes of four thousand years ago, did not hear the +warning. + +Up the avenue there plodded slowly a man with sullen eyes. He was +carrying a dinner pail and smoking an apple-wood pipe. + +As he neared the spot where the little boys strove, he regarded them +listlessly. But suddenly he roared an oath and advanced upon the +rolling fighters. + +"Here, you Jim, git up, now, while I belt yer life out, you damned +disorderly brat." + +He began to kick into the chaotic mass on the ground. The boy Billie +felt a heavy boot strike his head. He made a furious effort and +disentangled himself from Jimmie. He tottered away, damning. + +Jimmie arose painfully from the ground and confronting his father, +began to curse him. His parent kicked him. "Come home, now," he +cried, "an' stop yer jawin', er I'll lam the everlasting head off yehs." + +They departed. The man paced placidly along with the apple-wood emblem +of serenity between his teeth. The boy followed a dozen feet in the +rear. He swore luridly, for he felt that it was degradation for one +who aimed to be some vague soldier, or a man of blood with a sort of +sublime license, to be taken home by a father. + + + +Chapter II + +Eventually they entered into a dark region where, from a careening +building, a dozen gruesome doorways gave up loads of babies to the +street and the gutter. A wind of early autumn raised yellow dust from +cobbles and swirled it against an hundred windows. Long streamers of +garments fluttered from fire-escapes. In all unhandy places there were +buckets, brooms, rags and bottles. In the street infants played or +fought with other infants or sat stupidly in the way of vehicles. +Formidable women, with uncombed hair and disordered dress, gossiped +while leaning on railings, or screamed in frantic quarrels. Withered +persons, in curious postures of submission to something, sat smoking +pipes in obscure corners. A thousand odors of cooking food came forth +to the street. The building quivered and creaked from the weight of +humanity stamping about in its bowels. + +A small ragged girl dragged a red, bawling infant along the crowded +ways. He was hanging back, baby-like, bracing his wrinkled, bare legs. + +The little girl cried out: "Ah, Tommie, come ahn. Dere's Jimmie and +fader. Don't be a-pullin' me back." + +She jerked the baby's arm impatiently. He fell on his face, roaring. +With a second jerk she pulled him to his feet, and they went on. With +the obstinacy of his order, he protested against being dragged in a +chosen direction. He made heroic endeavors to keep on his legs, +denounce his sister and consume a bit of orange peeling which he chewed +between the times of his infantile orations. + +As the sullen-eyed man, followed by the blood-covered boy, drew near, +the little girl burst into reproachful cries. "Ah, Jimmie, youse bin +fightin' agin." + +The urchin swelled disdainfully. + +"Ah, what deh hell, Mag. See?" + +The little girl upbraided him, "Youse allus fightin', Jimmie, an' yeh +knows it puts mudder out when yehs come home half dead, an' it's like +we'll all get a poundin'." + +She began to weep. The babe threw back his head and roared at his +prospects. + +"Ah, what deh hell!" cried Jimmie. "Shut up er I'll smack yer mout'. +See?" + +As his sister continued her lamentations, he suddenly swore and struck +her. The little girl reeled and, recovering herself, burst into tears +and quaveringly cursed him. As she slowly retreated her brother +advanced dealing her cuffs. The father heard and turned about. + +"Stop that, Jim, d'yeh hear? Leave yer sister alone on the street. +It's like I can never beat any sense into yer damned wooden head." + +The urchin raised his voice in defiance to his parent and continued his +attacks. The babe bawled tremendously, protesting with great violence. +During his sister's hasty manoeuvres, he was dragged by the arm. + +Finally the procession plunged into one of the gruesome doorways. They +crawled up dark stairways and along cold, gloomy halls. At last the +father pushed open a door and they entered a lighted room in which a +large woman was rampant. + +She stopped in a career from a seething stove to a pan-covered table. +As the father and children filed in she peered at them. + +"Eh, what? Been fightin' agin, by Gawd!" She threw herself upon +Jimmie. The urchin tried to dart behind the others and in the scuffle +the babe, Tommie, was knocked down. He protested with his usual +vehemence, because they had bruised his tender shins against a table +leg. + +The mother's massive shoulders heaved with anger. Grasping the urchin +by the neck and shoulder she shook him until he rattled. She dragged +him to an unholy sink, and, soaking a rag in water, began to scrub his +lacerated face with it. Jimmie screamed in pain and tried to twist his +shoulders out of the clasp of the huge arms. + +The babe sat on the floor watching the scene, his face in contortions +like that of a woman at a tragedy. The father, with a newly-ladened +pipe in his mouth, crouched on a backless chair near the stove. +Jimmie's cries annoyed him. He turned about and bellowed at his wife: + +"Let the damned kid alone for a minute, will yeh, Mary? Yer allus +poundin' 'im. When I come nights I can't git no rest 'cause yer allus +poundin' a kid. Let up, d'yeh hear? Don't be allus poundin' a kid." + +The woman's operations on the urchin instantly increased in violence. +At last she tossed him to a corner where he limply lay cursing and +weeping. + +The wife put her immense hands on her hips and with a chieftain-like +stride approached her husband. + +"Ho," she said, with a great grunt of contempt. "An' what in the devil +are you stickin' your nose for?" + +The babe crawled under the table and, turning, peered out cautiously. +The ragged girl retreated and the urchin in the corner drew his legs +carefully beneath him. + +The man puffed his pipe calmly and put his great mudded boots on the +back part of the stove. + +"Go teh hell," he murmured, tranquilly. + +The woman screamed and shook her fists before her husband's eyes. The +rough yellow of her face and neck flared suddenly crimson. She began +to howl. + +He puffed imperturbably at his pipe for a time, but finally arose and +began to look out at the window into the darkening chaos of back yards. + +"You've been drinkin', Mary," he said. "You'd better let up on the +bot', ol' woman, or you'll git done." + +"You're a liar. I ain't had a drop," she roared in reply. + +They had a lurid altercation, in which they damned each other's souls +with frequence. + +The babe was staring out from under the table, his small face working +in his excitement. + +The ragged girl went stealthily over to the corner where the urchin lay. + +"Are yehs hurted much, Jimmie?" she whispered timidly. + +"Not a damn bit! See?" growled the little boy. + +"Will I wash deh blood?" + +"Naw!" + +"Will I--" + +"When I catch dat Riley kid I'll break 'is face! Dat's right! See?" + +He turned his face to the wall as if resolved to grimly bide his time. + +In the quarrel between husband and wife, the woman was victor. The man +grabbed his hat and rushed from the room, apparently determined upon a +vengeful drunk. She followed to the door and thundered at him as he +made his way down stairs. + +She returned and stirred up the room until her children were bobbing +about like bubbles. + +"Git outa deh way," she persistently bawled, waving feet with their +dishevelled shoes near the heads of her children. She shrouded +herself, puffing and snorting, in a cloud of steam at the stove, and +eventually extracted a frying-pan full of potatoes that hissed. + +She flourished it. "Come teh yer suppers, now," she cried with sudden +exasperation. "Hurry up, now, er I'll help yeh!" + +The children scrambled hastily. With prodigious clatter they arranged +themselves at table. The babe sat with his feet dangling high from a +precarious infant chair and gorged his small stomach. Jimmie forced, +with feverish rapidity, the grease-enveloped pieces between his wounded +lips. Maggie, with side glances of fear of interruption, ate like a +small pursued tigress. + +The mother sat blinking at them. She delivered reproaches, swallowed +potatoes and drank from a yellow-brown bottle. After a time her mood +changed and she wept as she carried little Tommie into another room and +laid him to sleep with his fists doubled in an old quilt of faded red +and green grandeur. Then she came and moaned by the stove. She rocked +to and fro upon a chair, shedding tears and crooning miserably to the +two children about their "poor mother" and "yer fader, damn 'is soul." + +The little girl plodded between the table and the chair with a dish-pan +on it. She tottered on her small legs beneath burdens of dishes. + +Jimmie sat nursing his various wounds. He cast furtive glances at his +mother. His practised eye perceived her gradually emerge from a +muddled mist of sentiment until her brain burned in drunken heat. He +sat breathless. + +Maggie broke a plate. + +The mother started to her feet as if propelled. + +"Good Gawd," she howled. Her eyes glittered on her child with sudden +hatred. The fervent red of her face turned almost to purple. The +little boy ran to the halls, shrieking like a monk in an earthquake. + +He floundered about in darkness until he found the stairs. He +stumbled, panic-stricken, to the next floor. An old woman opened a +door. A light behind her threw a flare on the urchin's quivering face. + +"Eh, Gawd, child, what is it dis time? Is yer fader beatin' yer +mudder, or yer mudder beatin' yer fader?" + + + +Chapter III + +Jimmie and the old woman listened long in the hall. Above the muffled +roar of conversation, the dismal wailings of babies at night, the +thumping of feet in unseen corridors and rooms, mingled with the sound +of varied hoarse shoutings in the street and the rattling of wheels +over cobbles, they heard the screams of the child and the roars of the +mother die away to a feeble moaning and a subdued bass muttering. + +The old woman was a gnarled and leathery personage who could don, at +will, an expression of great virtue. She possessed a small music-box +capable of one tune, and a collection of "God bless yehs" pitched in +assorted keys of fervency. Each day she took a position upon the +stones of Fifth Avenue, where she crooked her legs under her and +crouched immovable and hideous, like an idol. She received daily a +small sum in pennies. It was contributed, for the most part, by +persons who did not make their homes in that vicinity. + +Once, when a lady had dropped her purse on the sidewalk, the gnarled +woman had grabbed it and smuggled it with great dexterity beneath her +cloak. When she was arrested she had cursed the lady into a partial +swoon, and with her aged limbs, twisted from rheumatism, had almost +kicked the stomach out of a huge policeman whose conduct upon that +occasion she referred to when she said: "The police, damn 'em." + +"Eh, Jimmie, it's cursed shame," she said. "Go, now, like a dear an' +buy me a can, an' if yer mudder raises 'ell all night yehs can sleep +here." + +Jimmie took a tendered tin-pail and seven pennies and departed. He +passed into the side door of a saloon and went to the bar. Straining +up on his toes he raised the pail and pennies as high as his arms would +let him. He saw two hands thrust down and take them. Directly the +same hands let down the filled pail and he left. + +In front of the gruesome doorway he met a lurching figure. It was his +father, swaying about on uncertain legs. + +"Give me deh can. See?" said the man, threateningly. + +"Ah, come off! I got dis can fer dat ol' woman an' it 'ud be dirt teh +swipe it. See?" cried Jimmie. + +The father wrenched the pail from the urchin. He grasped it in both +hands and lifted it to his mouth. He glued his lips to the under edge +and tilted his head. His hairy throat swelled until it seemed to grow +near his chin. There was a tremendous gulping movement and the beer +was gone. + +The man caught his breath and laughed. He hit his son on the head with +the empty pail. As it rolled clanging into the street, Jimmie began to +scream and kicked repeatedly at his father's shins. + +"Look at deh dirt what yeh done me," he yelled. "Deh ol' woman 'ill be +raisin' hell." + +He retreated to the middle of the street, but the man did not pursue. +He staggered toward the door. + +"I'll club hell outa yeh when I ketch yeh," he shouted, and disappeared. + +During the evening he had been standing against a bar drinking whiskies +and declaring to all comers, confidentially: "My home reg'lar livin' +hell! Damndes' place! Reg'lar hell! Why do I come an' drin' whisk' +here thish way? 'Cause home reg'lar livin' hell!" + +Jimmie waited a long time in the street and then crept warily up +through the building. He passed with great caution the door of the +gnarled woman, and finally stopped outside his home and listened. + +He could hear his mother moving heavily about among the furniture of +the room. She was chanting in a mournful voice, occasionally +interjecting bursts of volcanic wrath at the father, who, Jimmie +judged, had sunk down on the floor or in a corner. + +"Why deh blazes don' chere try teh keep Jim from fightin'? I'll break +her jaw," she suddenly bellowed. + +The man mumbled with drunken indifference. "Ah, wha' deh hell. W'a's +odds? Wha' makes kick?" + +"Because he tears 'is clothes, yeh damn fool," cried the woman in +supreme wrath. + +The husband seemed to become aroused. "Go teh hell," he thundered +fiercely in reply. There was a crash against the door and something +broke into clattering fragments. Jimmie partially suppressed a howl +and darted down the stairway. Below he paused and listened. He heard +howls and curses, groans and shrieks, confusingly in chorus as if a +battle were raging. With all was the crash of splintering furniture. +The eyes of the urchin glared in fear that one of them would discover +him. + +Curious faces appeared in doorways, and whispered comments passed to +and fro. "Ol' Johnson's raisin' hell agin." + +Jimmie stood until the noises ceased and the other inhabitants of the +tenement had all yawned and shut their doors. Then he crawled upstairs +with the caution of an invader of a panther den. Sounds of labored +breathing came through the broken door-panels. He pushed the door open +and entered, quaking. + +A glow from the fire threw red hues over the bare floor, the cracked +and soiled plastering, and the overturned and broken furniture. + +In the middle of the floor lay his mother asleep. In one corner of the +room his father's limp body hung across the seat of a chair. + +The urchin stole forward. He began to shiver in dread of awakening his +parents. His mother's great chest was heaving painfully. Jimmie +paused and looked down at her. Her face was inflamed and swollen from +drinking. Her yellow brows shaded eyelids that had brown blue. Her +tangled hair tossed in waves over her forehead. Her mouth was set in +the same lines of vindictive hatred that it had, perhaps, borne during +the fight. Her bare, red arms were thrown out above her head in +positions of exhaustion, something, mayhap, like those of a sated +villain. + +The urchin bended over his mother. He was fearful lest she should open +her eyes, and the dread within him was so strong, that he could not +forbear to stare, but hung as if fascinated over the woman's grim face. + +Suddenly her eyes opened. The urchin found himself looking straight +into that expression, which, it would seem, had the power to change his +blood to salt. He howled piercingly and fell backward. + +The woman floundered for a moment, tossed her arms about her head as if +in combat, and again began to snore. + +Jimmie crawled back in the shadows and waited. A noise in the next +room had followed his cry at the discovery that his mother was awake. +He grovelled in the gloom, the eyes from out his drawn face riveted +upon the intervening door. + +He heard it creak, and then the sound of a small voice came to him. +"Jimmie! Jimmie! Are yehs dere?" it whispered. The urchin started. +The thin, white face of his sister looked at him from the door-way of +the other room. She crept to him across the floor. + +The father had not moved, but lay in the same death-like sleep. The +mother writhed in uneasy slumber, her chest wheezing as if she were in +the agonies of strangulation. Out at the window a florid moon was +peering over dark roofs, and in the distance the waters of a river +glimmered pallidly. + +The small frame of the ragged girl was quivering. Her features were +haggard from weeping, and her eyes gleamed from fear. She grasped the +urchin's arm in her little trembling hands and they huddled in a +corner. The eyes of both were drawn, by some force, to stare at the +woman's face, for they thought she need only to awake and all fiends +would come from below. + +They crouched until the ghost-mists of dawn appeared at the window, +drawing close to the panes, and looking in at the prostrate, heaving +body of the mother. + + + +Chapter IV + +The babe, Tommie, died. He went away in a white, insignificant coffin, +his small waxen hand clutching a flower that the girl, Maggie, had +stolen from an Italian. + +She and Jimmie lived. + +The inexperienced fibres of the boy's eyes were hardened at an early +age. He became a young man of leather. He lived some red years +without laboring. During that time his sneer became chronic. He +studied human nature in the gutter, and found it no worse than he +thought he had reason to believe it. He never conceived a respect for +the world, because he had begun with no idols that it had smashed. + +He clad his soul in armor by means of happening hilariously in at a +mission church where a man composed his sermons of "yous." While they +got warm at the stove, he told his hearers just where he calculated +they stood with the Lord. Many of the sinners were impatient over the +pictured depths of their degradation. They were waiting for +soup-tickets. + +A reader of words of wind-demons might have been able to see the +portions of a dialogue pass to and fro between the exhorter and his +hearers. + +"You are damned," said the preacher. And the reader of sounds might +have seen the reply go forth from the ragged people: "Where's our soup?" + +Jimmie and a companion sat in a rear seat and commented upon the things +that didn't concern them, with all the freedom of English gentlemen. +When they grew thirsty and went out their minds confused the speaker +with Christ. + +Momentarily, Jimmie was sullen with thoughts of a hopeless altitude +where grew fruit. His companion said that if he should ever meet God +he would ask for a million dollars and a bottle of beer. + +Jimmie's occupation for a long time was to stand on streetcorners and +watch the world go by, dreaming blood-red dreams at the passing of +pretty women. He menaced mankind at the intersections of streets. + +On the corners he was in life and of life. The world was going on and +he was there to perceive it. + +He maintained a belligerent attitude toward all well-dressed men. To +him fine raiment was allied to weakness, and all good coats covered +faint hearts. He and his order were kings, to a certain extent, over +the men of untarnished clothes, because these latter dreaded, perhaps, +to be either killed or laughed at. + +Above all things he despised obvious Christians and ciphers with the +chrysanthemums of aristocracy in their button-holes. He considered +himself above both of these classes. He was afraid of neither the +devil nor the leader of society. + +When he had a dollar in his pocket his satisfaction with existence was +the greatest thing in the world. So, eventually, he felt obliged to +work. His father died and his mother's years were divided up into +periods of thirty days. + +He became a truck driver. He was given the charge of a painstaking +pair of horses and a large rattling truck. He invaded the turmoil and +tumble of the down-town streets and learned to breathe maledictory +defiance at the police who occasionally used to climb up, drag him from +his perch and beat him. + +In the lower part of the city he daily involved himself in hideous +tangles. If he and his team chanced to be in the rear he preserved a +demeanor of serenity, crossing his legs and bursting forth into yells +when foot passengers took dangerous dives beneath the noses of his +champing horses. He smoked his pipe calmly for he knew that his pay +was marching on. + +If in the front and the key-truck of chaos, he entered terrifically +into the quarrel that was raging to and fro among the drivers on their +high seats, and sometimes roared oaths and violently got himself +arrested. + +After a time his sneer grew so that it turned its glare upon all +things. He became so sharp that he believed in nothing. To him the +police were always actuated by malignant impulses and the rest of the +world was composed, for the most part, of despicable creatures who were +all trying to take advantage of him and with whom, in defense, he was +obliged to quarrel on all possible occasions. He himself occupied a +down-trodden position that had a private but distinct element of +grandeur in its isolation. + +The most complete cases of aggravated idiocy were, to his mind, rampant +upon the front platforms of all the street cars. At first his tongue +strove with these beings, but he eventually was superior. He became +immured like an African cow. In him grew a majestic contempt for those +strings of street cars that followed him like intent bugs. + +He fell into the habit, when starting on a long journey, of fixing his +eye on a high and distant object, commanding his horses to begin, and +then going into a sort of a trance of observation. Multitudes of +drivers might howl in his rear, and passengers might load him with +opprobrium, he would not awaken until some blue policeman turned red +and began to frenziedly tear bridles and beat the soft noses of the +responsible horses. + +When he paused to contemplate the attitude of the police toward himself +and his fellows, he believed that they were the only men in the city +who had no rights. When driving about, he felt that he was held liable +by the police for anything that might occur in the streets, and was the +common prey of all energetic officials. In revenge, he resolved never +to move out of the way of anything, until formidable circumstances, or +a much larger man than himself forced him to it. + +Foot-passengers were mere pestering flies with an insane disregard for +their legs and his convenience. He could not conceive their maniacal +desires to cross the streets. Their madness smote him with eternal +amazement. He was continually storming at them from his throne. He +sat aloft and denounced their frantic leaps, plunges, dives and +straddles. + +When they would thrust at, or parry, the noses of his champing horses, +making them swing their heads and move their feet, disturbing a solid +dreamy repose, he swore at the men as fools, for he himself could +perceive that Providence had caused it clearly to be written, that he +and his team had the unalienable right to stand in the proper path of +the sun chariot, and if they so minded, obstruct its mission or take a +wheel off. + +And, perhaps, if the god-driver had an ungovernable desire to step +down, put up his flame-colored fists and manfully dispute the right of +way, he would have probably been immediately opposed by a scowling +mortal with two sets of very hard knuckles. + +It is possible, perhaps, that this young man would have derided, in an +axle-wide alley, the approach of a flying ferry boat. Yet he achieved +a respect for a fire engine. As one charged toward his truck, he would +drive fearfully upon a sidewalk, threatening untold people with +annihilation. When an engine would strike a mass of blocked trucks, +splitting it into fragments, as a blow annihilates a cake of ice, +Jimmie's team could usually be observed high and safe, with whole +wheels, on the sidewalk. The fearful coming of the engine could break +up the most intricate muddle of heavy vehicles at which the police had +been swearing for the half of an hour. + +A fire engine was enshrined in his heart as an appalling thing that he +loved with a distant dog-like devotion. They had been known to +overturn street-cars. Those leaping horses, striking sparks from the +cobbles in their forward lunge, were creatures to be ineffably admired. +The clang of the gong pierced his breast like a noise of remembered war. + +When Jimmie was a little boy, he began to be arrested. Before he +reached a great age, he had a fair record. + +He developed too great a tendency to climb down from his truck and +fight with other drivers. He had been in quite a number of +miscellaneous fights, and in some general barroom rows that had become +known to the police. Once he had been arrested for assaulting a +Chinaman. Two women in different parts of the city, and entirely +unknown to each other, caused him considerable annoyance by breaking +forth, simultaneously, at fateful intervals, into wailings about +marriage and support and infants. + +Nevertheless, he had, on a certain star-lit evening, said wonderingly +and quite reverently: "Deh moon looks like hell, don't it?" + + + +Chapter V + +The girl, Maggie, blossomed in a mud puddle. She grew to be a most +rare and wonderful production of a tenement district, a pretty girl. + +None of the dirt of Rum Alley seemed to be in her veins. The +philosophers up-stairs, down-stairs and on the same floor, puzzled over +it. + +When a child, playing and fighting with gamins in the street, dirt +disguised her. Attired in tatters and grime, she went unseen. + +There came a time, however, when the young men of the vicinity said: +"Dat Johnson goil is a puty good looker." About this period her +brother remarked to her: "Mag, I'll tell yeh dis! See? Yeh've edder +got teh go teh hell or go teh work!" Whereupon she went to work, +having the feminine aversion of going to hell. + +By a chance, she got a position in an establishment where they made +collars and cuffs. She received a stool and a machine in a room where +sat twenty girls of various shades of yellow discontent. She perched +on the stool and treadled at her machine all day, turning out collars, +the name of whose brand could be noted for its irrelevancy to anything +in connection with collars. At night she returned home to her mother. + +Jimmie grew large enough to take the vague position of head of the +family. As incumbent of that office, he stumbled up-stairs late at +night, as his father had done before him. He reeled about the room, +swearing at his relations, or went to sleep on the floor. + +The mother had gradually arisen to that degree of fame that she could +bandy words with her acquaintances among the police-justices. +Court-officials called her by her first name. When she appeared they +pursued a course which had been theirs for months. They invariably +grinned and cried out: "Hello, Mary, you here again?" Her grey head +wagged in many a court. She always besieged the bench with voluble +excuses, explanations, apologies and prayers. Her flaming face and +rolling eyes were a sort of familiar sight on the island. She measured +time by means of sprees, and was eternally swollen and dishevelled. + +One day the young man, Pete, who as a lad had smitten the Devil's Row +urchin in the back of the head and put to flight the antagonists of his +friend, Jimmie, strutted upon the scene. He met Jimmie one day on the +street, promised to take him to a boxing match in Williamsburg, and +called for him in the evening. + +Maggie observed Pete. + +He sat on a table in the Johnson home and dangled his checked legs with +an enticing nonchalance. His hair was curled down over his forehead in +an oiled bang. His rather pugged nose seemed to revolt from contact +with a bristling moustache of short, wire-like hairs. His blue +double-breasted coat, edged with black braid, buttoned close to a red +puff tie, and his patent-leather shoes looked like murder-fitted +weapons. + +His mannerisms stamped him as a man who had a correct sense of his +personal superiority. There was valor and contempt for circumstances +in the glance of his eye. He waved his hands like a man of the world, +who dismisses religion and philosophy, and says "Fudge." He had +certainly seen everything and with each curl of his lip, he declared +that it amounted to nothing. Maggie thought he must be a very elegant +and graceful bartender. + +He was telling tales to Jimmie. + +Maggie watched him furtively, with half-closed eyes, lit with a vague +interest. + +"Hully gee! Dey makes me tired," he said. "Mos' e'ry day some farmer +comes in an' tries teh run deh shop. See? But dey gits t'rowed right +out! I jolt dem right out in deh street before dey knows where dey is! +See?" + +"Sure," said Jimmie. + +"Dere was a mug come in deh place deh odder day wid an idear he wus +goin' teh own deh place! Hully gee, he wus goin' teh own deh place! I +see he had a still on an' I didn' wanna giv 'im no stuff, so I says: +'Git deh hell outa here an' don' make no trouble,' I says like dat! +See? 'Git deh hell outa here an' don' make no trouble'; like dat. +'Git deh hell outa here,' I says. See?" + +Jimmie nodded understandingly. Over his features played an eager +desire to state the amount of his valor in a similar crisis, but the +narrator proceeded. + +"Well, deh blokie he says: 'T'hell wid it! I ain' lookin' for no +scrap,' he says (See?), 'but' he says, 'I'm 'spectable cit'zen an' I +wanna drink an' purtydamnsoon, too.' See? 'Deh hell,' I says. Like +dat! 'Deh hell,' I says. See? 'Don' make no trouble,' I says. Like +dat. 'Don' make no trouble.' See? Den deh mug he squared off an' +said he was fine as silk wid his dukes (See?) an' he wanned a drink +damnquick. Dat's what he said. See?" + +"Sure," repeated Jimmie. + +Pete continued. "Say, I jes' jumped deh bar an' deh way I plunked dat +blokie was great. See? Dat's right! In deh jaw! See? Hully gee, he +t'rowed a spittoon true deh front windee. Say, I taut I'd drop dead. +But deh boss, he comes in after an' he says, 'Pete, yehs done jes' +right! Yeh've gota keep order an' it's all right.' See? 'It's all +right,' he says. Dat's what he said." + +The two held a technical discussion. + +"Dat bloke was a dandy," said Pete, in conclusion, "but he hadn' oughta +made no trouble. Dat's what I says teh dem: 'Don' come in here an' +make no trouble,' I says, like dat. 'Don' make no trouble.' See?" + +As Jimmie and his friend exchanged tales descriptive of their prowess, +Maggie leaned back in the shadow. Her eyes dwelt wonderingly and +rather wistfully upon Pete's face. The broken furniture, grimey walls, +and general disorder and dirt of her home of a sudden appeared before +her and began to take a potential aspect. Pete's aristocratic person +looked as if it might soil. She looked keenly at him, occasionally, +wondering if he was feeling contempt. But Pete seemed to be enveloped +in reminiscence. + +"Hully gee," said he, "dose mugs can't phase me. Dey knows I kin wipe +up deh street wid any t'ree of dem." + +When he said, "Ah, what deh hell," his voice was burdened with disdain +for the inevitable and contempt for anything that fate might compel him +to endure. + +Maggie perceived that here was the beau ideal of a man. Her dim +thoughts were often searching for far away lands where, as God says, +the little hills sing together in the morning. Under the trees of her +dream-gardens there had always walked a lover. + + + +Chapter VI + +Pete took note of Maggie. + +"Say, Mag, I'm stuck on yer shape. It's outa sight," he said, +parenthetically, with an affable grin. + +As he became aware that she was listening closely, he grew still more +eloquent in his descriptions of various happenings in his career. It +appeared that he was invincible in fights. + +"Why," he said, referring to a man with whom he had had a +misunderstanding, "dat mug scrapped like a damn dago. Dat's right. He +was dead easy. See? He tau't he was a scrapper. But he foun' out +diff'ent! Hully gee." + +He walked to and fro in the small room, which seemed then to grow even +smaller and unfit to hold his dignity, the attribute of a supreme +warrior. That swing of the shoulders that had frozen the timid when he +was but a lad had increased with his growth and education at the ratio +of ten to one. It, combined with the sneer upon his mouth, told +mankind that there was nothing in space which could appall him. Maggie +marvelled at him and surrounded him with greatness. She vaguely tried +to calculate the altitude of the pinnacle from which he must have +looked down upon her. + +"I met a chump deh odder day way up in deh city," he said. "I was +goin' teh see a frien' of mine. When I was a-crossin' deh street deh +chump runned plump inteh me, an' den he turns aroun' an' says, 'Yer +insolen' ruffin,' he says, like dat. 'Oh, gee,' I says, 'oh, gee, go +teh hell and git off deh eart',' I says, like dat. See? 'Go teh hell +an' git off deh eart',' like dat. Den deh blokie he got wild. He says +I was a contempt'ble scoun'el, er somet'ing like dat, an' he says I was +doom' teh everlastin' pe'dition an' all like dat. 'Gee,' I says, 'gee! +Deh hell I am,' I says. 'Deh hell I am,' like dat. An' den I slugged +'im. See?" + +With Jimmie in his company, Pete departed in a sort of a blaze of glory +from the Johnson home. Maggie, leaning from the window, watched him as +he walked down the street. + +Here was a formidable man who disdained the strength of a world full of +fists. Here was one who had contempt for brass-clothed power; one +whose knuckles could defiantly ring against the granite of law. He was +a knight. + +The two men went from under the glimmering street-lamp and passed into +shadows. + +Turning, Maggie contemplated the dark, dust-stained walls, and the +scant and crude furniture of her home. A clock, in a splintered and +battered oblong box of varnished wood, she suddenly regarded as an +abomination. She noted that it ticked raspingly. The almost vanished +flowers in the carpet-pattern, she conceived to be newly hideous. Some +faint attempts she had made with blue ribbon, to freshen the appearance +of a dingy curtain, she now saw to be piteous. + +She wondered what Pete dined on. + +She reflected upon the collar and cuff factory. It began to appear to +her mind as a dreary place of endless grinding. Pete's elegant +occupation brought him, no doubt, into contact with people who had +money and manners. It was probable that he had a large acquaintance of +pretty girls. He must have great sums of money to spend. + +To her the earth was composed of hardships and insults. She felt +instant admiration for a man who openly defied it. She thought that if +the grim angel of death should clutch his heart, Pete would shrug his +shoulders and say: "Oh, ev'ryt'ing goes." + +She anticipated that he would come again shortly. She spent some of +her week's pay in the purchase of flowered cretonne for a lambrequin. +She made it with infinite care and hung it to the slightly-careening +mantel, over the stove, in the kitchen. She studied it with painful +anxiety from different points in the room. She wanted it to look well +on Sunday night when, perhaps, Jimmie's friend would come. On Sunday +night, however, Pete did not appear. + +Afterward the girl looked at it with a sense of humiliation. She was +now convinced that Pete was superior to admiration for lambrequins. + +A few evenings later Pete entered with fascinating innovations in his +apparel. As she had seen him twice and he had different suits on each +time, Maggie had a dim impression that his wardrobe was prodigiously +extensive. + +"Say, Mag," he said, "put on yer bes' duds Friday night an' I'll take +yehs teh deh show. See?" + +He spent a few moments in flourishing his clothes and then vanished, +without having glanced at the lambrequin. + +Over the eternal collars and cuffs in the factory Maggie spent the most +of three days in making imaginary sketches of Pete and his daily +environment. She imagined some half dozen women in love with him and +thought he must lean dangerously toward an indefinite one, whom she +pictured with great charms of person, but with an altogether +contemptible disposition. + +She thought he must live in a blare of pleasure. He had friends, and +people who were afraid of him. + +She saw the golden glitter of the place where Pete was to take her. An +entertainment of many hues and many melodies where she was afraid she +might appear small and mouse-colored. + +Her mother drank whiskey all Friday morning. With lurid face and +tossing hair she cursed and destroyed furniture all Friday afternoon. +When Maggie came home at half-past six her mother lay asleep amidst the +wreck of chairs and a table. Fragments of various household utensils +were scattered about the floor. She had vented some phase of drunken +fury upon the lambrequin. It lay in a bedraggled heap in the corner. + +"Hah," she snorted, sitting up suddenly, "where deh hell yeh been? Why +deh hell don' yeh come home earlier? Been loafin' 'round deh streets. +Yer gettin' teh be a reg'lar devil." + +When Pete arrived Maggie, in a worn black dress, was waiting for him in +the midst of a floor strewn with wreckage. The curtain at the window +had been pulled by a heavy hand and hung by one tack, dangling to and +fro in the draft through the cracks at the sash. The knots of blue +ribbons appeared like violated flowers. The fire in the stove had gone +out. The displaced lids and open doors showed heaps of sullen grey +ashes. The remnants of a meal, ghastly, like dead flesh, lay in a +corner. Maggie's red mother, stretched on the floor, blasphemed and +gave her daughter a bad name. + + + +Chapter VII + +An orchestra of yellow silk women and bald-headed men on an elevated +stage near the centre of a great green-hued hall, played a popular +waltz. The place was crowded with people grouped about little tables. +A battalion of waiters slid among the throng, carrying trays of beer +glasses and making change from the inexhaustible vaults of their +trousers pockets. Little boys, in the costumes of French chefs, +paraded up and down the irregular aisles vending fancy cakes. There +was a low rumble of conversation and a subdued clinking of glasses. +Clouds of tobacco smoke rolled and wavered high in air about the dull +gilt of the chandeliers. + +The vast crowd had an air throughout of having just quitted labor. Men +with calloused hands and attired in garments that showed the wear of an +endless trudge for a living, smoked their pipes contentedly and spent +five, ten, or perhaps fifteen cents for beer. There was a mere +sprinkling of kid-gloved men who smoked cigars purchased elsewhere. +The great body of the crowd was composed of people who showed that all +day they strove with their hands. Quiet Germans, with maybe their +wives and two or three children, sat listening to the music, with the +expressions of happy cows. An occasional party of sailors from a +war-ship, their faces pictures of sturdy health, spent the earlier +hours of the evening at the small round tables. Very infrequent tipsy +men, swollen with the value of their opinions, engaged their companions +in earnest and confidential conversation. In the balcony, and here and +there below, shone the impassive faces of women. The nationalities of +the Bowery beamed upon the stage from all directions. + +Pete aggressively walked up a side aisle and took seats with Maggie at +a table beneath the balcony. + +"Two beehs!" + +Leaning back he regarded with eyes of superiority the scene before +them. This attitude affected Maggie strongly. A man who could regard +such a sight with indifference must be accustomed to very great things. + +It was obvious that Pete had been to this place many times before, and +was very familiar with it. A knowledge of this fact made Maggie feel +little and new. + +He was extremely gracious and attentive. He displayed the +consideration of a cultured gentleman who knew what was due. + +"Say, what deh hell? Bring deh lady a big glass! What deh hell use is +dat pony?" + +"Don't be fresh, now," said the waiter, with some warmth, as he +departed. + +"Ah, git off deh eart'," said Pete, after the other's retreating form. + +Maggie perceived that Pete brought forth all his elegance and all his +knowledge of high-class customs for her benefit. Her heart warmed as +she reflected upon his condescension. + +The orchestra of yellow silk women and bald-headed men gave vent to a +few bars of anticipatory music and a girl, in a pink dress with short +skirts, galloped upon the stage. She smiled upon the throng as if in +acknowledgment of a warm welcome, and began to walk to and fro, making +profuse gesticulations and singing, in brazen soprano tones, a song, +the words of which were inaudible. When she broke into the swift +rattling measures of a chorus some half-tipsy men near the stage joined +in the rollicking refrain and glasses were pounded rhythmically upon +the tables. People leaned forward to watch her and to try to catch the +words of the song. When she vanished there were long rollings of +applause. + +Obedient to more anticipatory bars, she reappeared amidst the +half-suppressed cheering of the tipsy men. The orchestra plunged into +dance music and the laces of the dancer fluttered and flew in the glare +of gas jets. She divulged the fact that she was attired in some half +dozen skirts. It was patent that any one of them would have proved +adequate for the purpose for which skirts are intended. An occasional +man bent forward, intent upon the pink stockings. Maggie wondered at +the splendor of the costume and lost herself in calculations of the +cost of the silks and laces. + +The dancer's smile of stereotyped enthusiasm was turned for ten minutes +upon the faces of her audience. In the finale she fell into some of +those grotesque attitudes which were at the time popular among the +dancers in the theatres up-town, giving to the Bowery public the +phantasies of the aristocratic theatre-going public, at reduced rates. + +"Say, Pete," said Maggie, leaning forward, "dis is great." + +"Sure," said Pete, with proper complacence. + +A ventriloquist followed the dancer. He held two fantastic dolls on +his knees. He made them sing mournful ditties and say funny things +about geography and Ireland. + +"Do dose little men talk?" asked Maggie. + +"Naw," said Pete, "it's some damn fake. See?" + +Two girls, on the bills as sisters, came forth and sang a duet that is +heard occasionally at concerts given under church auspices. They +supplemented it with a dance which of course can never be seen at +concerts given under church auspices. + +After the duettists had retired, a woman of debatable age sang a negro +melody. The chorus necessitated some grotesque waddlings supposed to +be an imitation of a plantation darkey, under the influence, probably, +of music and the moon. The audience was just enthusiastic enough over +it to have her return and sing a sorrowful lay, whose lines told of a +mother's love and a sweetheart who waited and a young man who was lost +at sea under the most harrowing circumstances. From the faces of a +score or so in the crowd, the self-contained look faded. Many heads +were bent forward with eagerness and sympathy. As the last distressing +sentiment of the piece was brought forth, it was greeted by that kind +of applause which rings as sincere. + +As a final effort, the singer rendered some verses which described a +vision of Britain being annihilated by America, and Ireland bursting +her bonds. A carefully prepared crisis was reached in the last line of +the last verse, where the singer threw out her arms and cried, "The +star-spangled banner." Instantly a great cheer swelled from the +throats of the assemblage of the masses. There was a heavy rumble of +booted feet thumping the floor. Eyes gleamed with sudden fire, and +calloused hands waved frantically in the air. + +After a few moments' rest, the orchestra played crashingly, and a small +fat man burst out upon the stage. He began to roar a song and stamp +back and forth before the foot-lights, wildly waving a glossy silk hat +and throwing leers, or smiles, broadcast. He made his face into +fantastic grimaces until he looked like a pictured devil on a Japanese +kite. The crowd laughed gleefully. His short, fat legs were never +still a moment. He shouted and roared and bobbed his shock of red wig +until the audience broke out in excited applause. + +Pete did not pay much attention to the progress of events upon the +stage. He was drinking beer and watching Maggie. + +Her cheeks were blushing with excitement and her eyes were glistening. +She drew deep breaths of pleasure. No thoughts of the atmosphere of +the collar and cuff factory came to her. + +When the orchestra crashed finally, they jostled their way to the +sidewalk with the crowd. Pete took Maggie's arm and pushed a way for +her, offering to fight with a man or two. + +They reached Maggie's home at a late hour and stood for a moment in +front of the gruesome doorway. + +"Say, Mag," said Pete, "give us a kiss for takin' yeh teh deh show, +will yer?" + +Maggie laughed, as if startled, and drew away from him. + +"Naw, Pete," she said, "dat wasn't in it." + +"Ah, what deh hell?" urged Pete. + +The girl retreated nervously. + +"Ah, what deh hell?" repeated he. + +Maggie darted into the hall, and up the stairs. She turned and smiled +at him, then disappeared. + +Pete walked slowly down the street. He had something of an astonished +expression upon his features. He paused under a lamp-post and breathed +a low breath of surprise. + +"Gawd," he said, "I wonner if I've been played fer a duffer." + + + +Chapter VIII + +As thoughts of Pete came to Maggie's mind, she began to have an intense +dislike for all of her dresses. + +"What deh hell ails yeh? What makes yeh be allus fixin' and fussin'? +Good Gawd," her mother would frequently roar at her. + +She began to note, with more interest, the well-dressed women she met +on the avenues. She envied elegance and soft palms. She craved those +adornments of person which she saw every day on the street, conceiving +them to be allies of vast importance to women. + +Studying faces, she thought many of the women and girls she chanced to +meet, smiled with serenity as though forever cherished and watched over +by those they loved. + +The air in the collar and cuff establishment strangled her. She knew +she was gradually and surely shrivelling in the hot, stuffy room. The +begrimed windows rattled incessantly from the passing of elevated +trains. The place was filled with a whirl of noises and odors. + +She wondered as she regarded some of the grizzled women in the room, +mere mechanical contrivances sewing seams and grinding out, with heads +bended over their work, tales of imagined or real girlhood happiness, +past drunks, the baby at home, and unpaid wages. She speculated how +long her youth would endure. She began to see the bloom upon her +cheeks as valuable. + +She imagined herself, in an exasperating future, as a scrawny woman +with an eternal grievance. Too, she thought Pete to be a very +fastidious person concerning the appearance of women. + +She felt she would love to see somebody entangle their fingers in the +oily beard of the fat foreigner who owned the establishment. He was a +detestable creature. He wore white socks with low shoes. + +He sat all day delivering orations, in the depths of a cushioned chair. +His pocketbook deprived them of the power to retort. + +"What een hell do you sink I pie fife dolla a week for? Play? No, py +damn!" Maggie was anxious for a friend to whom she could talk about +Pete. She would have liked to discuss his admirable mannerisms with a +reliable mutual friend. At home, she found her mother often drunk and +always raving. It seems that the world had treated this woman very +badly, and she took a deep revenge upon such portions of it as came +within her reach. She broke furniture as if she were at last getting her +rights. She swelled with virtuous indignation as she carried the lighter +articles of household use, one by one under the shadows of the three +gilt balls, where Hebrews chained them with chains of interest. + +Jimmie came when he was obliged to by circumstances over which he had no +control. His well-trained legs brought him staggering home and put him +to bed some nights when he would rather have gone elsewhere. + +Swaggering Pete loomed like a golden sun to Maggie. He took her to a +dime museum where rows of meek freaks astonished her. She contemplated +their deformities with awe and thought them a sort of chosen tribe. + +Pete, raking his brains for amusement, discovered the Central Park +Menagerie and the Museum of Arts. Sunday afternoons would sometimes find +them at these places. Pete did not appear to be particularly interested +in what he saw. He stood around looking heavy, while Maggie giggled in +glee. + +Once at the Menagerie he went into a trance of admiration before the +spectacle of a very small monkey threatening to thrash a cageful because +one of them had pulled his tail and he had not wheeled about quickly +enough to discover who did it. Ever after Pete knew that monkey by sight +and winked at him, trying to induce hime to fight with other and larger +monkeys. At the Museum, Maggie said, "Dis is outa sight." + +"Oh hell," said Pete, "wait 'till next summer an' I'll take yehs to a +picnic." + +While the girl wandered in the vaulted rooms, Pete occupied himself in +returning stony stare for stony stare, the appalling scrutiny of the +watch-dogs of the treasures. Occasionally he would remark in loud tones: +"Dat jay has got glass eyes," and sentences of the sort. When he tired +of this amusement he would go to the mummies and moralize over them. + +Usually he submitted with silent dignity to all which he had to go +through, but, at times, he was goaded into comment. + +"What deh hell," he demanded once. "Look at all dese little jugs! +Hundred jugs in a row! Ten rows in a case an' 'bout a t'ousand cases! +What deh blazes use is dem?" + +Evenings during the week he took her to see plays in which the +brain-clutching heroine was rescued from the palatial home of her +guardian, who is cruelly after her bonds, by the hero with the +beautiful sentiments. The latter spent most of his time out at soak in +pale-green snow storms, busy with a nickel-plated revolver, rescuing +aged strangers from villains. + +Maggie lost herself in sympathy with the wanderers swooning in snow +storms beneath happy-hued church windows. And a choir within singing +"Joy to the World." To Maggie and the rest of the audience this was +transcendental realism. Joy always within, and they, like the actor, +inevitably without. Viewing it, they hugged themselves in ecstatic +pity of their imagined or real condition. + +The girl thought the arrogance and granite-heartedness of the magnate +of the play was very accurately drawn. She echoed the maledictions +that the occupants of the gallery showered on this individual when his +lines compelled him to expose his extreme selfishness. + +Shady persons in the audience revolted from the pictured villainy of +the drama. With untiring zeal they hissed vice and applauded virtue. +Unmistakably bad men evinced an apparently sincere admiration for +virtue. + +The loud gallery was overwhelmingly with the unfortunate and the +oppressed. They encouraged the struggling hero with cries, and jeered +the villain, hooting and calling attention to his whiskers. When +anybody died in the pale-green snow storms, the gallery mourned. They +sought out the painted misery and hugged it as akin. + +In the hero's erratic march from poverty in the first act, to wealth +and triumph in the final one, in which he forgives all the enemies that +he has left, he was assisted by the gallery, which applauded his +generous and noble sentiments and confounded the speeches of his +opponents by making irrelevant but very sharp remarks. Those actors +who were cursed with villainy parts were confronted at every turn by +the gallery. If one of them rendered lines containing the most subtile +distinctions between right and wrong, the gallery was immediately aware +if the actor meant wickedness, and denounced him accordingly. + +The last act was a triumph for the hero, poor and of the masses, the +representative of the audience, over the villain and the rich man, his +pockets stuffed with bonds, his heart packed with tyrannical purposes, +imperturbable amid suffering. + +Maggie always departed with raised spirits from the showing places of +the melodrama. She rejoiced at the way in which the poor and virtuous +eventually surmounted the wealthy and wicked. The theatre made her +think. She wondered if the culture and refinement she had seen +imitated, perhaps grotesquely, by the heroine on the stage, could be +acquired by a girl who lived in a tenement house and worked in a shirt +factory. + + + +Chapter IX + +A group of urchins were intent upon the side door of a saloon. +Expectancy gleamed from their eyes. They were twisting their fingers +in excitement. + +"Here she comes," yelled one of them suddenly. + +The group of urchins burst instantly asunder and its individual +fragments were spread in a wide, respectable half circle about the +point of interest. The saloon door opened with a crash, and the figure +of a woman appeared upon the threshold. Her grey hair fell in knotted +masses about her shoulders. Her face was crimsoned and wet with +perspiration. Her eyes had a rolling glare. + +"Not a damn cent more of me money will yehs ever get, not a damn cent. +I spent me money here fer t'ree years an' now yehs tells me yeh'll sell +me no more stuff! T'hell wid yeh, Johnnie Murckre! 'Disturbance'? +Disturbance be damned! T'hell wid yeh, Johnnie--" + +The door received a kick of exasperation from within and the woman +lurched heavily out on the sidewalk. + +The gamins in the half-circle became violently agitated. They began to +dance about and hoot and yell and jeer. Wide dirty grins spread over +each face. + +The woman made a furious dash at a particularly outrageous cluster of +little boys. They laughed delightedly and scampered off a short +distance, calling out over their shoulders to her. She stood tottering +on the curb-stone and thundered at them. + +"Yeh devil's kids," she howled, shaking red fists. The little boys +whooped in glee. As she started up the street they fell in behind and +marched uproariously. Occasionally she wheeled about and made charges +on them. They ran nimbly out of reach and taunted her. + +In the frame of a gruesome doorway she stood for a moment cursing them. +Her hair straggled, giving her crimson features a look of insanity. +Her great fists quivered as she shook them madly in the air. + +The urchins made terrific noises until she turned and disappeared. +Then they filed quietly in the way they had come. + +The woman floundered about in the lower hall of the tenement house and +finally stumbled up the stairs. On an upper hall a door was opened and +a collection of heads peered curiously out, watching her. With a +wrathful snort the woman confronted the door, but it was slammed +hastily in her face and the key was turned. + +She stood for a few minutes, delivering a frenzied challenge at the +panels. + +"Come out in deh hall, Mary Murphy, damn yeh, if yehs want a row. Come +ahn, yeh overgrown terrier, come ahn." + +She began to kick the door with her great feet. She shrilly defied the +universe to appear and do battle. Her cursing trebles brought heads +from all doors save the one she threatened. Her eyes glared in every +direction. The air was full of her tossing fists. + +"Come ahn, deh hull damn gang of yehs, come ahn," she roared at the +spectators. An oath or two, cat-calls, jeers and bits of facetious +advice were given in reply. Missiles clattered about her feet. + +"What deh hell's deh matter wid yeh?" said a voice in the gathered +gloom, and Jimmie came forward. He carried a tin dinner-pail in his +hand and under his arm a brown truckman's apron done in a bundle. +"What deh hell's wrong?" he demanded. + +"Come out, all of yehs, come out," his mother was howling. "Come ahn +an' I'll stamp her damn brains under me feet." + +"Shet yer face, an' come home, yeh damned old fool," roared Jimmie at +her. She strided up to him and twirled her fingers in his face. Her +eyes were darting flames of unreasoning rage and her frame trembled +with eagerness for a fight. + +"T'hell wid yehs! An' who deh hell are yehs? I ain't givin' a snap of +me fingers fer yehs," she bawled at him. She turned her huge back in +tremendous disdain and climbed the stairs to the next floor. + +Jimmie followed, cursing blackly. At the top of the flight he seized +his mother's arm and started to drag her toward the door of their room. + +"Come home, damn yeh," he gritted between his teeth. + +"Take yer hands off me! Take yer hands off me," shrieked his mother. + +She raised her arm and whirled her great fist at her son's face. +Jimmie dodged his head and the blow struck him in the back of the neck. +"Damn yeh," gritted he again. He threw out his left hand and writhed +his fingers about her middle arm. The mother and the son began to sway +and struggle like gladiators. + +"Whoop!" said the Rum Alley tenement house. The hall filled with +interested spectators. + +"Hi, ol' lady, dat was a dandy!" + +"T'ree to one on deh red!" + +"Ah, stop yer damn scrappin'!" + +The door of the Johnson home opened and Maggie looked out. Jimmie made +a supreme cursing effort and hurled his mother into the room. He +quickly followed and closed the door. The Rum Alley tenement swore +disappointedly and retired. + +The mother slowly gathered herself up from the floor. Her eyes +glittered menacingly upon her children. + +"Here, now," said Jimmie, "we've had enough of dis. Sit down, an' don' +make no trouble." + +He grasped her arm, and twisting it, forced her into a creaking chair. + +"Keep yer hands off me," roared his mother again. + +"Damn yer ol' hide," yelled Jimmie, madly. Maggie shrieked and ran +into the other room. To her there came the sound of a storm of crashes +and curses. There was a great final thump and Jimmie's voice cried: +"Dere, damn yeh, stay still." Maggie opened the door now, and went +warily out. "Oh, Jimmie." + +He was leaning against the wall and swearing. Blood stood upon bruises +on his knotty fore-arms where they had scraped against the floor or the +walls in the scuffle. The mother lay screeching on the floor, the +tears running down her furrowed face. + +Maggie, standing in the middle of the room, gazed about her. The usual +upheaval of the tables and chairs had taken place. Crockery was strewn +broadcast in fragments. The stove had been disturbed on its legs, and +now leaned idiotically to one side. A pail had been upset and water +spread in all directions. + +The door opened and Pete appeared. He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, +Gawd," he observed. + +He walked over to Maggie and whispered in her ear. "Ah, what deh hell, +Mag? Come ahn and we'll have a hell of a time." + +The mother in the corner upreared her head and shook her tangled locks. + +"Teh hell wid him and you," she said, glowering at her daughter in the +gloom. Her eyes seemed to burn balefully. "Yeh've gone teh deh devil, +Mag Johnson, yehs knows yehs have gone teh deh devil. Yer a disgrace +teh yer people, damn yeh. An' now, git out an' go ahn wid dat +doe-faced jude of yours. Go teh hell wid him, damn yeh, an' a good +riddance. Go teh hell an' see how yeh likes it." + +Maggie gazed long at her mother. + +"Go teh hell now, an' see how yeh likes it. Git out. I won't have +sech as yehs in me house! Get out, d'yeh hear! Damn yeh, git out!" + +The girl began to tremble. + +At this instant Pete came forward. "Oh, what deh hell, Mag, see," +whispered he softly in her ear. "Dis all blows over. See? Deh ol' +woman 'ill be all right in deh mornin'. Come ahn out wid me! We'll +have a hell of a time." + +The woman on the floor cursed. Jimmie was intent upon his bruised +fore-arms. The girl cast a glance about the room filled with a chaotic +mass of debris, and at the red, writhing body of her mother. + +"Go teh hell an' good riddance." + +She went. + + + +Chapter X + +Jimmie had an idea it wasn't common courtesy for a friend to come to +one's home and ruin one's sister. But he was not sure how much Pete +knew about the rules of politeness. + +The following night he returned home from work at rather a late hour in +the evening. In passing through the halls he came upon the gnarled and +leathery old woman who possessed the music box. She was grinning in +the dim light that drifted through dust-stained panes. She beckoned to +him with a smudged forefinger. + +"Ah, Jimmie, what do yehs t'ink I got onto las' night. It was deh +funnies' t'ing I ever saw," she cried, coming close to him and leering. +She was trembling with eagerness to tell her tale. "I was by me door +las' night when yer sister and her jude feller came in late, oh, very +late. An' she, the dear, she was a-cryin' as if her heart would break, +she was. It was deh funnies' t'ing I ever saw. An' right out here by +me door she asked him did he love her, did he. An' she was a-cryin' as +if her heart would break, poor t'ing. An' him, I could see by deh way +what he said it dat she had been askin' orften, he says: 'Oh, hell, +yes,' he says, says he, 'Oh, hell, yes.'" + +Storm-clouds swept over Jimmie's face, but he turned from the leathery +old woman and plodded on up-stairs. + +"Oh, hell, yes," called she after him. She laughed a laugh that was +like a prophetic croak. "'Oh, hell, yes,' he says, says he, 'Oh, hell, +yes.'" + +There was no one in at home. The rooms showed that attempts had been +made at tidying them. Parts of the wreckage of the day before had been +repaired by an unskilful hand. A chair or two and the table, stood +uncertainly upon legs. The floor had been newly swept. Too, the blue +ribbons had been restored to the curtains, and the lambrequin, with its +immense sheaves of yellow wheat and red roses of equal size, had been +returned, in a worn and sorry state, to its position at the mantel. +Maggie's jacket and hat were gone from the nail behind the door. + +Jimmie walked to the window and began to look through the blurred +glass. It occurred to him to vaguely wonder, for an instant, if some +of the women of his acquaintance had brothers. + +Suddenly, however, he began to swear. + +"But he was me frien'! I brought 'im here! Dat's deh hell of it!" + +He fumed about the room, his anger gradually rising to the furious +pitch. + +"I'll kill deh jay! Dat's what I'll do! I'll kill deh jay!" + +He clutched his hat and sprang toward the door. But it opened and his +mother's great form blocked the passage. + +"What deh hell's deh matter wid yeh?" exclaimed she, coming into the +rooms. + +Jimmie gave vent to a sardonic curse and then laughed heavily. + +"Well, Maggie's gone teh deh devil! Dat's what! See?" + +"Eh?" said his mother. + +"Maggie's gone teh deh devil! Are yehs deaf?" roared Jimmie, +impatiently. + +"Deh hell she has," murmured the mother, astounded. + +Jimmie grunted, and then began to stare out at the window. His mother +sat down in a chair, but a moment later sprang erect and delivered a +maddened whirl of oaths. Her son turned to look at her as she reeled +and swayed in the middle of the room, her fierce face convulsed with +passion, her blotched arms raised high in imprecation. + +"May Gawd curse her forever," she shrieked. "May she eat nothin' but +stones and deh dirt in deh street. May she sleep in deh gutter an' +never see deh sun shine agin. Deh damn--" + +"Here, now," said her son. "Take a drop on yourself." + +The mother raised lamenting eyes to the ceiling. + +"She's deh devil's own chil', Jimmie," she whispered. "Ah, who would +t'ink such a bad girl could grow up in our fambly, Jimmie, me son. +Many deh hour I've spent in talk wid dat girl an' tol' her if she ever +went on deh streets I'd see her damned. An' after all her bringin' up +an' what I tol' her and talked wid her, she goes teh deh bad, like a +duck teh water." + +The tears rolled down her furrowed face. Her hands trembled. + +"An' den when dat Sadie MacMallister next door to us was sent teh deh +devil by dat feller what worked in deh soap-factory, didn't I tell our +Mag dat if she--" + +"Ah, dat's annuder story," interrupted the brother. "Of course, dat +Sadie was nice an' all dat--but--see--it ain't dessame as if--well, +Maggie was diff'ent--see--she was diff'ent." + +He was trying to formulate a theory that he had always unconsciously +held, that all sisters, excepting his own, could advisedly be ruined. + +He suddenly broke out again. "I'll go t'ump hell outa deh mug what did +her deh harm. I'll kill 'im! He t'inks he kin scrap, but when he gits +me a-chasin' 'im he'll fin' out where he's wrong, deh damned duffer. +I'll wipe up deh street wid 'im." + +In a fury he plunged out of the doorway. As he vanished the mother +raised her head and lifted both hands, entreating. + +"May Gawd curse her forever," she cried. + +In the darkness of the hallway Jimmie discerned a knot of women talking +volubly. When he strode by they paid no attention to him. + +"She allus was a bold thing," he heard one of them cry in an eager +voice. "Dere wasn't a feller come teh deh house but she'd try teh mash +'im. My Annie says deh shameless t'ing tried teh ketch her feller, her +own feller, what we useter know his fader." + +"I could a' tol' yehs dis two years ago," said a woman, in a key of +triumph. "Yessir, it was over two years ago dat I says teh my ol' man, +I says, 'Dat Johnson girl ain't straight,' I says. 'Oh, hell,' he +says. 'Oh, hell.' 'Dat's all right,' I says, 'but I know what I +knows,' I says, 'an' it 'ill come out later. You wait an' see,' I +says, 'you see.'" + +"Anybody what had eyes could see dat dere was somethin' wrong wid dat +girl. I didn't like her actions." + +On the street Jimmie met a friend. "What deh hell?" asked the latter. + +Jimmie explained. "An' I'll t'ump 'im till he can't stand." + +"Oh, what deh hell," said the friend. "What's deh use! Yeh'll git +pulled in! Everybody 'ill be onto it! An' ten plunks! Gee!" + +Jimmie was determined. "He t'inks he kin scrap, but he'll fin' out +diff'ent." + +"Gee," remonstrated the friend. "What deh hell?" + + + +Chapter XI + +On a corner a glass-fronted building shed a yellow glare upon the +pavements. The open mouth of a saloon called seductively to passengers +to enter and annihilate sorrow or create rage. + +The interior of the place was papered in olive and bronze tints of +imitation leather. A shining bar of counterfeit massiveness extended +down the side of the room. Behind it a great mahogany-appearing +sideboard reached the ceiling. Upon its shelves rested pyramids of +shimmering glasses that were never disturbed. Mirrors set in the face +of the sideboard multiplied them. Lemons, oranges and paper napkins, +arranged with mathematical precision, sat among the glasses. Many-hued +decanters of liquor perched at regular intervals on the lower shelves. +A nickel-plated cash register occupied a position in the exact centre +of the general effect. The elementary senses of it all seemed to be +opulence and geometrical accuracy. + +Across from the bar a smaller counter held a collection of plates upon +which swarmed frayed fragments of crackers, slices of boiled ham, +dishevelled bits of cheese, and pickles swimming in vinegar. An odor +of grasping, begrimed hands and munching mouths pervaded. + +Pete, in a white jacket, was behind the bar bending expectantly toward +a quiet stranger. "A beeh," said the man. Pete drew a foam-topped +glassful and set it dripping upon the bar. + +At this moment the light bamboo doors at the entrance swung open and +crashed against the siding. Jimmie and a companion entered. They +swaggered unsteadily but belligerently toward the bar and looked at +Pete with bleared and blinking eyes. + +"Gin," said Jimmie. + +"Gin," said the companion. + +Pete slid a bottle and two glasses along the bar. He bended his head +sideways as he assiduously polished away with a napkin at the gleaming +wood. He had a look of watchfulness upon his features. + +Jimmie and his companion kept their eyes upon the bartender and +conversed loudly in tones of contempt. + +"He's a dindy masher, ain't he, by Gawd?" laughed Jimmie. + +"Oh, hell, yes," said the companion, sneering widely. "He's great, he +is. Git onto deh mug on deh blokie. Dat's enough to make a feller +turn hand-springs in 'is sleep." + +The quiet stranger moved himself and his glass a trifle further away +and maintained an attitude of oblivion. + +"Gee! ain't he hot stuff!" + +"Git onto his shape! Great Gawd!" + +"Hey," cried Jimmie, in tones of command. Pete came along slowly, with +a sullen dropping of the under lip. + +"Well," he growled, "what's eatin' yehs?" + +"Gin," said Jimmie. + +"Gin," said the companion. + +As Pete confronted them with the bottle and the glasses, they laughed +in his face. Jimmie's companion, evidently overcome with merriment, +pointed a grimy forefinger in Pete's direction. + +"Say, Jimmie," demanded he, "what deh hell is dat behind deh bar?" + +"Damned if I knows," replied Jimmie. They laughed loudly. Pete put +down a bottle with a bang and turned a formidable face toward them. He +disclosed his teeth and his shoulders heaved restlessly. + +"You fellers can't guy me," he said. "Drink yer stuff an' git out an' +don' make no trouble." + +Instantly the laughter faded from the faces of the two men and +expressions of offended dignity immediately came. + +"Who deh hell has said anyt'ing teh you," cried they in the same breath. + +The quiet stranger looked at the door calculatingly. + +"Ah, come off," said Pete to the two men. "Don't pick me up for no +jay. Drink yer rum an' git out an' don' make no trouble." + +"Oh, deh hell," airily cried Jimmie. + +"Oh, deh hell," airily repeated his companion. + +"We goes when we git ready! See!" continued Jimmie. + +"Well," said Pete in a threatening voice, "don' make no trouble." + +Jimmie suddenly leaned forward with his head on one side. He snarled +like a wild animal. + +"Well, what if we does? See?" said he. + +Dark blood flushed into Pete's face, and he shot a lurid glance at +Jimmie. + +"Well, den we'll see whose deh bes' man, you or me," he said. + +The quiet stranger moved modestly toward the door. + +Jimmie began to swell with valor. + +"Don' pick me up fer no tenderfoot. When yeh tackles me yeh tackles +one of deh bes' men in deh city. See? I'm a scrapper, I am. Ain't +dat right, Billie?" + +"Sure, Mike," responded his companion in tones of conviction. + +"Oh, hell," said Pete, easily. "Go fall on yerself." + +The two men again began to laugh. + +"What deh hell is dat talkin'?" cried the companion. + +"Damned if I knows," replied Jimmie with exaggerated contempt. + +Pete made a furious gesture. "Git outa here now, an' don' make no +trouble. See? Youse fellers er lookin' fer a scrap an' it's damn +likely yeh'll fin' one if yeh keeps on shootin' off yer mout's. I know +yehs! See? I kin lick better men dan yehs ever saw in yer lifes. +Dat's right! See? Don' pick me up fer no stuff er yeh might be jolted +out in deh street before yeh knows where yeh is. When I comes from +behind dis bar, I t'rows yehs bote inteh deh street. See?" + +"Oh, hell," cried the two men in chorus. + +The glare of a panther came into Pete's eyes. "Dat's what I said! +Unnerstan'?" + +He came through a passage at the end of the bar and swelled down upon +the two men. They stepped promptly forward and crowded close to him. + +They bristled like three roosters. They moved their heads pugnaciously +and kept their shoulders braced. The nervous muscles about each mouth +twitched with a forced smile of mockery. + +"Well, what deh hell yer goin' teh do?" gritted Jimmie. + +Pete stepped warily back, waving his hands before him to keep the men +from coming too near. + +"Well, what deh hell yer goin' teh do?" repeated Jimmie's ally. They +kept close to him, taunting and leering. They strove to make him +attempt the initial blow. + +"Keep back, now! Don' crowd me," ominously said Pete. + +Again they chorused in contempt. "Oh, hell!" + +In a small, tossing group, the three men edged for positions like +frigates contemplating battle. + +"Well, why deh hell don' yeh try teh t'row us out?" cried Jimmie and +his ally with copious sneers. + +The bravery of bull-dogs sat upon the faces of the men. Their clenched +fists moved like eager weapons. + +The allied two jostled the bartender's elbows, glaring at him with +feverish eyes and forcing him toward the wall. + +Suddenly Pete swore redly. The flash of action gleamed from his eyes. +He threw back his arm and aimed a tremendous, lightning-like blow at +Jimmie's face. His foot swung a step forward and the weight of his +body was behind his fist. Jimmie ducked his head, Bowery-like, with +the quickness of a cat. The fierce, answering blows of him and his +ally crushed on Pete's bowed head. + +The quiet stranger vanished. + +The arms of the combatants whirled in the air like flails. The faces +of the men, at first flushed to flame-colored anger, now began to fade +to the pallor of warriors in the blood and heat of a battle. Their +lips curled back and stretched tightly over the gums in ghoul-like +grins. Through their white, gripped teeth struggled hoarse whisperings +of oaths. Their eyes glittered with murderous fire. + +Each head was huddled between its owner's shoulders, and arms were +swinging with marvelous rapidity. Feet scraped to and fro with a loud +scratching sound upon the sanded floor. Blows left crimson blotches +upon pale skin. The curses of the first quarter minute of the fight +died away. The breaths of the fighters came wheezingly from their lips +and the three chests were straining and heaving. Pete at intervals +gave vent to low, labored hisses, that sounded like a desire to kill. +Jimmie's ally gibbered at times like a wounded maniac. Jimmie was +silent, fighting with the face of a sacrificial priest. The rage of +fear shone in all their eyes and their blood-colored fists swirled. + +At a tottering moment a blow from Pete's hand struck the ally and he +crashed to the floor. He wriggled instantly to his feet and grasping +the quiet stranger's beer glass from the bar, hurled it at Pete's head. + +High on the wall it burst like a bomb, shivering fragments flying in +all directions. Then missiles came to every man's hand. The place had +heretofore appeared free of things to throw, but suddenly glass and +bottles went singing through the air. They were thrown point blank at +bobbing heads. The pyramid of shimmering glasses, that had never been +disturbed, changed to cascades as heavy bottles were flung into them. +Mirrors splintered to nothing. + +The three frothing creatures on the floor buried themselves in a frenzy +for blood. There followed in the wake of missiles and fists some +unknown prayers, perhaps for death. + +The quiet stranger had sprawled very pyrotechnically out on the +sidewalk. A laugh ran up and down the avenue for the half of a block. + +"Dey've trowed a bloke inteh deh street." + +People heard the sound of breaking glass and shuffling feet within the +saloon and came running. A small group, bending down to look under the +bamboo doors, watching the fall of glass, and three pairs of violent +legs, changed in a moment to a crowd. + +A policeman came charging down the sidewalk and bounced through the +doors into the saloon. The crowd bended and surged in absorbing +anxiety to see. + +Jimmie caught first sight of the on-coming interruption. On his feet +he had the same regard for a policeman that, when on his truck, he had +for a fire engine. He howled and ran for the side door. + +The officer made a terrific advance, club in hand. One comprehensive +sweep of the long night stick threw the ally to the floor and forced +Pete to a corner. With his disengaged hand he made a furious effort at +Jimmie's coat-tails. Then he regained his balance and paused. + +"Well, well, you are a pair of pictures. What in hell yeh been up to?" + +Jimmie, with his face drenched in blood, escaped up a side street, +pursued a short distance by some of the more law-loving, or excited +individuals of the crowd. + +Later, from a corner safely dark, he saw the policeman, the ally and +the bartender emerge from the saloon. Pete locked the doors and then +followed up the avenue in the rear of the crowd-encompassed policeman +and his charge. + +On first thoughts Jimmie, with his heart throbbing at battle heat, +started to go desperately to the rescue of his friend, but he halted. + +"Ah, what deh hell?" he demanded of himself. + + + +Chapter XII + +In a hall of irregular shape sat Pete and Maggie drinking beer. A +submissive orchestra dictated to by a spectacled man with frowsy hair +and a dress suit, industriously followed the bobs of his head and the +waves of his baton. A ballad singer, in a dress of flaming scarlet, +sang in the inevitable voice of brass. When she vanished, men seated +at the tables near the front applauded loudly, pounding the polished +wood with their beer glasses. She returned attired in less gown, and +sang again. She received another enthusiastic encore. She reappeared +in still less gown and danced. The deafening rumble of glasses and +clapping of hands that followed her exit indicated an overwhelming +desire to have her come on for the fourth time, but the curiosity of +the audience was not gratified. + +Maggie was pale. From her eyes had been plucked all look of +self-reliance. She leaned with a dependent air toward her companion. +She was timid, as if fearing his anger or displeasure. She seemed to +beseech tenderness of him. + +Pete's air of distinguished valor had grown upon him until it +threatened stupendous dimensions. He was infinitely gracious to the +girl. It was apparent to her that his condescension was a marvel. + +He could appear to strut even while sitting still and he showed that he +was a lion of lordly characteristics by the air with which he spat. + +With Maggie gazing at him wonderingly, he took pride in commanding the +waiters who were, however, indifferent or deaf. + +"Hi, you, git a russle on yehs! What deh hell yehs lookin' at? Two +more beehs, d'yeh hear?" + +He leaned back and critically regarded the person of a girl with a +straw-colored wig who upon the stage was flinging her heels in somewhat +awkward imitation of a well-known danseuse. + +At times Maggie told Pete long confidential tales of her former home +life, dwelling upon the escapades of the other members of the family +and the difficulties she had to combat in order to obtain a degree of +comfort. He responded in tones of philanthropy. He pressed her arm +with an air of reassuring proprietorship. + +"Dey was damn jays," he said, denouncing the mother and brother. + +The sound of the music which, by the efforts of the frowsy-headed +leader, drifted to her ears through the smoke-filled atmosphere, made +the girl dream. She thought of her former Rum Alley environment and +turned to regard Pete's strong protecting fists. She thought of the +collar and cuff manufactory and the eternal moan of the proprietor: +"What een hell do you sink I pie fife dolla a week for? Play? No, py +damn." She contemplated Pete's man-subduing eyes and noted that wealth +and prosperity was indicated by his clothes. She imagined a future, +rose-tinted, because of its distance from all that she previously had +experienced. + +As to the present she perceived only vague reasons to be miserable. +Her life was Pete's and she considered him worthy of the charge. She +would be disturbed by no particular apprehensions, so long as Pete +adored her as he now said he did. She did not feel like a bad woman. +To her knowledge she had never seen any better. + +At times men at other tables regarded the girl furtively. Pete, aware +of it, nodded at her and grinned. He felt proud. + +"Mag, yer a bloomin' good-looker," he remarked, studying her face +through the haze. The men made Maggie fear, but she blushed at Pete's +words as it became apparent to her that she was the apple of his eye. + +Grey-headed men, wonderfully pathetic in their dissipation, stared at +her through clouds. Smooth-cheeked boys, some of them with faces of +stone and mouths of sin, not nearly so pathetic as the grey heads, +tried to find the girl's eyes in the smoke wreaths. Maggie considered +she was not what they thought her. She confined her glances to Pete +and the stage. + +The orchestra played negro melodies and a versatile drummer pounded, +whacked, clattered and scratched on a dozen machines to make noise. + +Those glances of the men, shot at Maggie from under half-closed lids, +made her tremble. She thought them all to be worse men than Pete. + +"Come, let's go," she said. + +As they went out Maggie perceived two women seated at a table with some +men. They were painted and their cheeks had lost their roundness. As +she passed them the girl, with a shrinking movement, drew back her +skirts. + + + +Chapter XIII + +Jimmie did not return home for a number of days after the fight with +Pete in the saloon. When he did, he approached with extreme caution. + +He found his mother raving. Maggie had not returned home. The parent +continually wondered how her daughter could come to such a pass. She +had never considered Maggie as a pearl dropped unstained into Rum Alley +from Heaven, but she could not conceive how it was possible for her +daughter to fall so low as to bring disgrace upon her family. She was +terrific in denunciation of the girl's wickedness. + +The fact that the neighbors talked of it, maddened her. When women +came in, and in the course of their conversation casually asked, +"Where's Maggie dese days?" the mother shook her fuzzy head at them and +appalled them with curses. Cunning hints inviting confidence she +rebuffed with violence. + +"An' wid all deh bringin' up she had, how could she?" moaningly she +asked of her son. "Wid all deh talkin' wid her I did an' deh t'ings I +tol' her to remember? When a girl is bringed up deh way I bringed up +Maggie, how kin she go teh deh devil?" + +Jimmie was transfixed by these questions. He could not conceive how +under the circumstances his mother's daughter and his sister could have +been so wicked. + +His mother took a drink from a squdgy bottle that sat on the table. +She continued her lament. + +"She had a bad heart, dat girl did, Jimmie. She was wicked teh deh +heart an' we never knowed it." + +Jimmie nodded, admitting the fact. + +"We lived in deh same house wid her an' I brought her up an' we never +knowed how bad she was." + +Jimmie nodded again. + +"Wid a home like dis an' a mudder like me, she went teh deh bad," cried +the mother, raising her eyes. + +One day, Jimmie came home, sat down in a chair and began to wriggle +about with a new and strange nervousness. At last he spoke +shamefacedly. + +"Well, look-a-here, dis t'ing queers us! See? We're queered! An' +maybe it 'ud be better if I--well, I t'ink I kin look 'er up an'--maybe +it 'ud be better if I fetched her home an'--" + +The mother started from her chair and broke forth into a storm of +passionate anger. + +"What! Let 'er come an' sleep under deh same roof wid her mudder agin! +Oh, yes, I will, won't I? Sure? Shame on yehs, Jimmie Johnson, for +sayin' such a t'ing teh yer own mudder--teh yer own mudder! Little did +I t'ink when yehs was a babby playin' about me feet dat ye'd grow up +teh say sech a t'ing teh yer mudder--yer own mudder. I never taut--" + +Sobs choked her and interrupted her reproaches. + +"Dere ain't nottin' teh raise sech hell about," said Jimmie. "I on'y +says it 'ud be better if we keep dis t'ing dark, see? It queers us! +See?" + +His mother laughed a laugh that seemed to ring through the city and be +echoed and re-echoed by countless other laughs. "Oh, yes, I will, +won't I! Sure!" + +"Well, yeh must take me fer a damn fool," said Jimmie, indignant at his +mother for mocking him. "I didn't say we'd make 'er inteh a little tin +angel, ner nottin', but deh way it is now she can queer us! Don' che +see?" + +"Aye, she'll git tired of deh life atter a while an' den she'll wanna +be a-comin' home, won' she, deh beast! I'll let 'er in den, won' I?" + +"Well, I didn' mean none of dis prod'gal bus'ness anyway," explained +Jimmie. + +"It wasn't no prod'gal dauter, yeh damn fool," said the mother. "It +was prod'gal son, anyhow." + +"I know dat," said Jimmie. + +For a time they sat in silence. The mother's eyes gloated on a scene +her imagination could call before her. Her lips were set in a +vindictive smile. + +"Aye, she'll cry, won' she, an' carry on, an' tell how Pete, or some +odder feller, beats 'er an' she'll say she's sorry an' all dat an' she +ain't happy, she ain't, an' she wants to come home agin, she does." + +With grim humor, the mother imitated the possible wailing notes of the +daughter's voice. + +"Den I'll take 'er in, won't I, deh beast. She kin cry 'er two eyes +out on deh stones of deh street before I'll dirty deh place wid her. +She abused an' ill-treated her own mudder--her own mudder what loved +her an' she'll never git anodder chance dis side of hell." + +Jimmie thought he had a great idea of women's frailty, but he could not +understand why any of his kin should be victims. + +"Damn her," he fervidly said. + +Again he wondered vaguely if some of the women of his acquaintance had +brothers. Nevertheless, his mind did not for an instant confuse +himself with those brothers nor his sister with theirs. After the +mother had, with great difficulty, suppressed the neighbors, she went +among them and proclaimed her grief. "May Gawd forgive dat girl," was +her continual cry. To attentive ears she recited the whole length and +breadth of her woes. + +"I bringed 'er up deh way a dauter oughta be bringed up an' dis is how +she served me! She went teh deh devil deh first chance she got! May +Gawd forgive her." + +When arrested for drunkenness she used the story of her daughter's +downfall with telling effect upon the police justices. Finally one of +them said to her, peering down over his spectacles: "Mary, the records +of this and other courts show that you are the mother of forty-two +daughters who have been ruined. The case is unparalleled in the annals +of this court, and this court thinks--" + +The mother went through life shedding large tears of sorrow. Her red +face was a picture of agony. + +Of course Jimmie publicly damned his sister that he might appear on a +higher social plane. But, arguing with himself, stumbling about in +ways that he knew not, he, once, almost came to a conclusion that his +sister would have been more firmly good had she better known why. +However, he felt that he could not hold such a view. He threw it +hastily aside. + + + +Chapter XIV + +In a hilarious hall there were twenty-eight tables and twenty-eight +women and a crowd of smoking men. Valiant noise was made on a stage at +the end of the hall by an orchestra composed of men who looked as if +they had just happened in. Soiled waiters ran to and fro, swooping +down like hawks on the unwary in the throng; clattering along the +aisles with trays covered with glasses; stumbling over women's skirts +and charging two prices for everything but beer, all with a swiftness +that blurred the view of the cocoanut palms and dusty monstrosities +painted upon the walls of the room. A bouncer, with an immense load of +business upon his hands, plunged about in the crowd, dragging bashful +strangers to prominent chairs, ordering waiters here and there and +quarreling furiously with men who wanted to sing with the orchestra. + +The usual smoke cloud was present, but so dense that heads and arms +seemed entangled in it. The rumble of conversation was replaced by a +roar. Plenteous oaths heaved through the air. The room rang with the +shrill voices of women bubbling o'er with drink-laughter. The chief +element in the music of the orchestra was speed. The musicians played +in intent fury. A woman was singing and smiling upon the stage, but no +one took notice of her. The rate at which the piano, cornet and +violins were going, seemed to impart wildness to the half-drunken +crowd. Beer glasses were emptied at a gulp and conversation became a +rapid chatter. The smoke eddied and swirled like a shadowy river +hurrying toward some unseen falls. Pete and Maggie entered the hall +and took chairs at a table near the door. The woman who was seated +there made an attempt to occupy Pete's attention and, failing, went +away. + +Three weeks had passed since the girl had left home. The air of +spaniel-like dependence had been magnified and showed its direct effect +in the peculiar off-handedness and ease of Pete's ways toward her. + +She followed Pete's eyes with hers, anticipating with smiles gracious +looks from him. + +A woman of brilliance and audacity, accompanied by a mere boy, came +into the place and took seats near them. + +At once Pete sprang to his feet, his face beaming with glad surprise. + +"By Gawd, there's Nellie," he cried. + +He went over to the table and held out an eager hand to the woman. + +"Why, hello, Pete, me boy, how are you," said she, giving him her +fingers. + +Maggie took instant note of the woman. She perceived that her black +dress fitted her to perfection. Her linen collar and cuffs were +spotless. Tan gloves were stretched over her well-shaped hands. A hat +of a prevailing fashion perched jauntily upon her dark hair. She wore +no jewelry and was painted with no apparent paint. She looked +clear-eyed through the stares of the men. + +"Sit down, and call your lady-friend over," she said cordially to Pete. +At his beckoning Maggie came and sat between Pete and the mere boy. + +"I thought yeh were gone away fer good," began Pete, at once. "When +did yeh git back? How did dat Buff'lo bus'ness turn out?" + +The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Well, he didn't have as many stamps +as he tried to make out, so I shook him, that's all." + +"Well, I'm glad teh see yehs back in deh city," said Pete, with awkward +gallantry. + +He and the woman entered into a long conversation, exchanging +reminiscences of days together. Maggie sat still, unable to formulate +an intelligent sentence upon the conversation and painfully aware of it. + +She saw Pete's eyes sparkle as he gazed upon the handsome stranger. He +listened smilingly to all she said. The woman was familiar with all +his affairs, asked him about mutual friends, and knew the amount of his +salary. + +She paid no attention to Maggie, looking toward her once or twice and +apparently seeing the wall beyond. + +The mere boy was sulky. In the beginning he had welcomed with +acclamations the additions. + +"Let's all have a drink! What'll you take, Nell? And you, Miss +what's-your-name. Have a drink, Mr. -----, you, I mean." + +He had shown a sprightly desire to do the talking for the company and +tell all about his family. In a loud voice he declaimed on various +topics. He assumed a patronizing air toward Pete. As Maggie was +silent, he paid no attention to her. He made a great show of lavishing +wealth upon the woman of brilliance and audacity. + +"Do keep still, Freddie! You gibber like an ape, dear," said the woman +to him. She turned away and devoted her attention to Pete. + +"We'll have many a good time together again, eh?" + +"Sure, Mike," said Pete, enthusiastic at once. + +"Say," whispered she, leaning forward, "let's go over to Billie's and +have a heluva time." + +"Well, it's dis way! See?" said Pete. "I got dis lady frien' here." + +"Oh, t'hell with her," argued the woman. + +Pete appeared disturbed. + +"All right," said she, nodding her head at him. "All right for you! +We'll see the next time you ask me to go anywheres with you." + +Pete squirmed. + +"Say," he said, beseechingly, "come wid me a minit an' I'll tell yer +why." + +The woman waved her hand. + +"Oh, that's all right, you needn't explain, you know. You wouldn't +come merely because you wouldn't come, that's all there is of it." + +To Pete's visible distress she turned to the mere boy, bringing him +speedily from a terrific rage. He had been debating whether it would +be the part of a man to pick a quarrel with Pete, or would he be +justified in striking him savagely with his beer glass without warning. +But he recovered himself when the woman turned to renew her smilings. +He beamed upon her with an expression that was somewhat tipsy and +inexpressibly tender. + +"Say, shake that Bowery jay," requested he, in a loud whisper. + +"Freddie, you are so droll," she replied. + +Pete reached forward and touched the woman on the arm. + +"Come out a minit while I tells yeh why I can't go wid yer. Yer doin' +me dirt, Nell! I never taut ye'd do me dirt, Nell. Come on, will +yer?" He spoke in tones of injury. + +"Why, I don't see why I should be interested in your explanations," +said the woman, with a coldness that seemed to reduce Pete to a pulp. + +His eyes pleaded with her. "Come out a minit while I tells yeh." + +The woman nodded slightly at Maggie and the mere boy, "'Scuse me." + +The mere boy interrupted his loving smile and turned a shrivelling +glare upon Pete. His boyish countenance flushed and he spoke, in a +whine, to the woman: + +"Oh, I say, Nellie, this ain't a square deal, you know. You aren't +goin' to leave me and go off with that duffer, are you? I should +think--" + +"Why, you dear boy, of course I'm not," cried the woman, +affectionately. She bended over and whispered in his ear. He smiled +again and settled in his chair as if resolved to wait patiently. + +As the woman walked down between the rows of tables, Pete was at her +shoulder talking earnestly, apparently in explanation. The woman waved +her hands with studied airs of indifference. The doors swung behind +them, leaving Maggie and the mere boy seated at the table. + +Maggie was dazed. She could dimly perceive that something stupendous +had happened. She wondered why Pete saw fit to remonstrate with the +woman, pleading for forgiveness with his eyes. She thought she noted +an air of submission about her leonine Pete. She was astounded. + +The mere boy occupied himself with cock-tails and a cigar. He was +tranquilly silent for half an hour. Then he bestirred himself and +spoke. + +"Well," he said, sighing, "I knew this was the way it would be." There +was another stillness. The mere boy seemed to be musing. + +"She was pulling m'leg. That's the whole amount of it," he said, +suddenly. "It's a bloomin' shame the way that girl does. Why, I've +spent over two dollars in drinks to-night. And she goes off with that +plug-ugly who looks as if he had been hit in the face with a coin-die. +I call it rocky treatment for a fellah like me. Here, waiter, bring me +a cock-tail and make it damned strong." + +Maggie made no reply. She was watching the doors. "It's a mean piece +of business," complained the mere boy. He explained to her how amazing +it was that anybody should treat him in such a manner. "But I'll get +square with her, you bet. She won't get far ahead of yours truly, you +know," he added, winking. "I'll tell her plainly that it was bloomin' +mean business. And she won't come it over me with any of her +'now-Freddie-dears.' She thinks my name is Freddie, you know, but of +course it ain't. I always tell these people some name like that, +because if they got onto your right name they might use it sometime. +Understand? Oh, they don't fool me much." + +Maggie was paying no attention, being intent upon the doors. The mere +boy relapsed into a period of gloom, during which he exterminated a +number of cock-tails with a determined air, as if replying defiantly to +fate. He occasionally broke forth into sentences composed of +invectives joined together in a long string. + +The girl was still staring at the doors. After a time the mere boy +began to see cobwebs just in front of his nose. He spurred himself +into being agreeable and insisted upon her having a charlotte-russe and +a glass of beer. + +"They's gone," he remarked, "they's gone." He looked at her through +the smoke wreaths. "Shay, lil' girl, we mightish well make bes' of it. +You ain't such bad-lookin' girl, y'know. Not half bad. Can't come up +to Nell, though. No, can't do it! Well, I should shay not! Nell +fine-lookin' girl! F--i--n--ine. You look damn bad longsider her, but +by y'self ain't so bad. Have to do anyhow. Nell gone. On'y you left. +Not half bad, though." + +Maggie stood up. + +"I'm going home," she said. + +The mere boy started. + +"Eh? What? Home," he cried, struck with amazement. "I beg pardon, +did hear say home?" + +"I'm going home," she repeated. + +"Great Gawd, what hava struck," demanded the mere boy of himself, +stupefied. + +In a semi-comatose state he conducted her on board an up-town car, +ostentatiously paid her fare, leered kindly at her through the rear +window and fell off the steps. + + + +Chapter XV + +A forlorn woman went along a lighted avenue. The street was filled +with people desperately bound on missions. An endless crowd darted at +the elevated station stairs and the horse cars were thronged with +owners of bundles. + +The pace of the forlorn woman was slow. She was apparently searching +for some one. She loitered near the doors of saloons and watched men +emerge from them. She scanned furtively the faces in the rushing +stream of pedestrians. Hurrying men, bent on catching some boat or +train, jostled her elbows, failing to notice her, their thoughts fixed +on distant dinners. + +The forlorn woman had a peculiar face. Her smile was no smile. But +when in repose her features had a shadowy look that was like a sardonic +grin, as if some one had sketched with cruel forefinger indelible lines +about her mouth. + +Jimmie came strolling up the avenue. The woman encountered him with an +aggrieved air. + +"Oh, Jimmie, I've been lookin' all over fer yehs--," she began. + +Jimmie made an impatient gesture and quickened his pace. + +"Ah, don't bodder me! Good Gawd!" he said, with the savageness of a +man whose life is pestered. + +The woman followed him along the sidewalk in somewhat the manner of a +suppliant. + +"But, Jimmie," she said, "yehs told me ye'd--" + +Jimmie turned upon her fiercely as if resolved to make a last stand for +comfort and peace. + +"Say, fer Gawd's sake, Hattie, don' foller me from one end of deh city +teh deh odder. Let up, will yehs! Give me a minute's res', can't +yehs? Yehs makes me tired, allus taggin' me. See? Ain' yehs got no +sense. Do yehs want people teh get onto me? Go chase yerself, fer +Gawd's sake." + +The woman stepped closer and laid her fingers on his arm. "But, +look-a-here--" + +Jimmie snarled. "Oh, go teh hell." + +He darted into the front door of a convenient saloon and a moment later +came out into the shadows that surrounded the side door. On the +brilliantly lighted avenue he perceived the forlorn woman dodging about +like a scout. Jimmie laughed with an air of relief and went away. + +When he arrived home he found his mother clamoring. Maggie had +returned. She stood shivering beneath the torrent of her mother's +wrath. + +"Well, I'm damned," said Jimmie in greeting. + +His mother, tottering about the room, pointed a quivering forefinger. + +"Lookut her, Jimmie, lookut her. Dere's yer sister, boy. Dere's yer +sister. Lookut her! Lookut her!" + +She screamed in scoffing laughter. + +The girl stood in the middle of the room. She edged about as if unable +to find a place on the floor to put her feet. + +"Ha, ha, ha," bellowed the mother. "Dere she stands! Ain' she purty? +Lookut her! Ain' she sweet, deh beast? Lookut her! Ha, ha, lookut +her!" + +She lurched forward and put her red and seamed hands upon her +daughter's face. She bent down and peered keenly up into the eyes of +the girl. + +"Oh, she's jes' dessame as she ever was, ain' she? She's her mudder's +purty darlin' yit, ain' she? Lookut her, Jimmie! Come here, fer +Gawd's sake, and lookut her." + +The loud, tremendous sneering of the mother brought the denizens of the +Rum Alley tenement to their doors. Women came in the hallways. +Children scurried to and fro. + +"What's up? Dat Johnson party on anudder tear?" + +"Naw! Young Mag's come home!" + +"Deh hell yeh say?" + +Through the open door curious eyes stared in at Maggie. Children +ventured into the room and ogled her, as if they formed the front row +at a theatre. Women, without, bended toward each other and whispered, +nodding their heads with airs of profound philosophy. A baby, overcome +with curiosity concerning this object at which all were looking, sidled +forward and touched her dress, cautiously, as if investigating a +red-hot stove. Its mother's voice rang out like a warning trumpet. +She rushed forward and grabbed her child, casting a terrible look of +indignation at the girl. + +Maggie's mother paced to and fro, addressing the doorful of eyes, +expounding like a glib showman at a museum. Her voice rang through the +building. + +"Dere she stands," she cried, wheeling suddenly and pointing with +dramatic finger. "Dere she stands! Lookut her! Ain' she a dindy? +An' she was so good as to come home teh her mudder, she was! Ain' she +a beaut'? Ain' she a dindy? Fer Gawd's sake!" + +The jeering cries ended in another burst of shrill laughter. + +The girl seemed to awaken. "Jimmie--" + +He drew hastily back from her. + +"Well, now, yer a hell of a t'ing, ain' yeh?" he said, his lips curling +in scorn. Radiant virtue sat upon his brow and his repelling hands +expressed horror of contamination. + +Maggie turned and went. + +The crowd at the door fell back precipitately. A baby falling down in +front of the door, wrenched a scream like a wounded animal from its +mother. Another woman sprang forward and picked it up, with a +chivalrous air, as if rescuing a human being from an oncoming express +train. + +As the girl passed down through the hall, she went before open doors +framing more eyes strangely microscopic, and sending broad beams of +inquisitive light into the darkness of her path. On the second floor +she met the gnarled old woman who possessed the music box. + +"So," she cried, "'ere yehs are back again, are yehs? An' dey've +kicked yehs out? Well, come in an' stay wid me teh-night. I ain' got +no moral standin'." + +From above came an unceasing babble of tongues, over all of which rang +the mother's derisive laughter. + + + +Chapter XVI + +Pete did not consider that he had ruined Maggie. If he had thought +that her soul could never smile again, he would have believed the +mother and brother, who were pyrotechnic over the affair, to be +responsible for it. + +Besides, in his world, souls did not insist upon being able to smile. +"What deh hell?" + +He felt a trifle entangled. It distressed him. Revelations and scenes +might bring upon him the wrath of the owner of the saloon, who insisted +upon respectability of an advanced type. + +"What deh hell do dey wanna raise such a smoke about it fer?" demanded +he of himself, disgusted with the attitude of the family. He saw no +necessity for anyone's losing their equilibrium merely because their +sister or their daughter had stayed away from home. + +Searching about in his mind for possible reasons for their conduct, he +came upon the conclusion that Maggie's motives were correct, but that +the two others wished to snare him. He felt pursued. + +The woman of brilliance and audacity whom he had met in the hilarious +hall showed a disposition to ridicule him. + +"A little pale thing with no spirit," she said. "Did you note the +expression of her eyes? There was something in them about pumpkin pie +and virtue. That is a peculiar way the left corner of her mouth has of +twitching, isn't it? Dear, dear, my cloud-compelling Pete, what are +you coming to?" + +Pete asserted at once that he never was very much interested in the +girl. The woman interrupted him, laughing. + +"Oh, it's not of the slightest consequence to me, my dear young man. +You needn't draw maps for my benefit. Why should I be concerned about +it?" + +But Pete continued with his explanations. If he was laughed at for his +tastes in women, he felt obliged to say that they were only temporary +or indifferent ones. + +The morning after Maggie had departed from home, Pete stood behind the +bar. He was immaculate in white jacket and apron and his hair was +plastered over his brow with infinite correctness. No customers were +in the place. Pete was twisting his napkined fist slowly in a beer +glass, softly whistling to himself and occasionally holding the object +of his attention between his eyes and a few weak beams of sunlight that +had found their way over the thick screens and into the shaded room. + +With lingering thoughts of the woman of brilliance and audacity, the +bartender raised his head and stared through the varying cracks between +the swaying bamboo doors. Suddenly the whistling pucker faded from his +lips. He saw Maggie walking slowly past. He gave a great start, +fearing for the previously-mentioned eminent respectability of the +place. + +He threw a swift, nervous glance about him, all at once feeling guilty. +No one was in the room. + +He went hastily over to the side door. Opening it and looking out, he +perceived Maggie standing, as if undecided, on the corner. She was +searching the place with her eyes. + +As she turned her face toward him Pete beckoned to her hurriedly, +intent upon returning with speed to a position behind the bar and to +the atmosphere of respectability upon which the proprietor insisted. + +Maggie came to him, the anxious look disappearing from her face and a +smile wreathing her lips. + +"Oh, Pete--," she began brightly. + +The bartender made a violent gesture of impatience. + +"Oh, my Gawd," cried he, vehemently. "What deh hell do yeh wanna hang +aroun' here fer? Do yeh wanna git me inteh trouble?" he demanded with +an air of injury. + +Astonishment swept over the girl's features. "Why, Pete! yehs tol' +me--" + +Pete glanced profound irritation. His countenance reddened with the +anger of a man whose respectability is being threatened. + +"Say, yehs makes me tired. See? What deh hell deh yeh wanna tag +aroun' atter me fer? Yeh'll git me inteh trouble wid deh ol' man an' +dey'll be hell teh pay! If he sees a woman roun' here he'll go crazy +an' I'll lose me job! See? Yer brudder come in here an' raised hell +an' deh ol' man hada put up fer it! An' now I'm done! See? I'm done." + +The girl's eyes stared into his face. "Pete, don't yeh remem--" + +"Oh, hell," interrupted Pete, anticipating. + +The girl seemed to have a struggle with herself. She was apparently +bewildered and could not find speech. Finally she asked in a low +voice: "But where kin I go?" + +The question exasperated Pete beyond the powers of endurance. It was a +direct attempt to give him some responsibility in a matter that did not +concern him. In his indignation he volunteered information. + +"Oh, go teh hell," cried he. He slammed the door furiously and +returned, with an air of relief, to his respectability. + +Maggie went away. + +She wandered aimlessly for several blocks. She stopped once and asked +aloud a question of herself: "Who?" + +A man who was passing near her shoulder, humorously took the +questioning word as intended for him. + +"Eh? What? Who? Nobody! I didn't say anything," he laughingly said, +and continued his way. + +Soon the girl discovered that if she walked with such apparent +aimlessness, some men looked at her with calculating eyes. She +quickened her step, frightened. As a protection, she adopted a +demeanor of intentness as if going somewhere. + +After a time she left rattling avenues and passed between rows of +houses with sternness and stolidity stamped upon their features. She +hung her head for she felt their eyes grimly upon her. + +Suddenly she came upon a stout gentleman in a silk hat and a chaste +black coat, whose decorous row of buttons reached from his chin to his +knees. The girl had heard of the Grace of God and she decided to +approach this man. + +His beaming, chubby face was a picture of benevolence and +kind-heartedness. His eyes shone good-will. + +But as the girl timidly accosted him, he gave a convulsive movement and +saved his respectability by a vigorous side-step. He did not risk it +to save a soul. For how was he to know that there was a soul before +him that needed saving? + + + +Chapter XVII + +Upon a wet evening, several months after the last chapter, two +interminable rows of cars, pulled by slipping horses, jangled along a +prominent side-street. A dozen cabs, with coat-enshrouded drivers, +clattered to and fro. Electric lights, whirring softly, shed a blurred +radiance. A flower dealer, his feet tapping impatiently, his nose and +his wares glistening with rain-drops, stood behind an array of roses +and chrysanthemums. Two or three theatres emptied a crowd upon the +storm-swept pavements. Men pulled their hats over their eyebrows and +raised their collars to their ears. Women shrugged impatient shoulders +in their warm cloaks and stopped to arrange their skirts for a walk +through the storm. People having been comparatively silent for two +hours burst into a roar of conversation, their hearts still kindling +from the glowings of the stage. + +The pavements became tossing seas of umbrellas. Men stepped forth to +hail cabs or cars, raising their fingers in varied forms of polite +request or imperative demand. An endless procession wended toward +elevated stations. An atmosphere of pleasure and prosperity seemed to +hang over the throng, born, perhaps, of good clothes and of having just +emerged from a place of forgetfulness. + +In the mingled light and gloom of an adjacent park, a handful of wet +wanderers, in attitudes of chronic dejection, was scattered among the +benches. + +A girl of the painted cohorts of the city went along the street. She +threw changing glances at men who passed her, giving smiling +invitations to men of rural or untaught pattern and usually seeming +sedately unconscious of the men with a metropolitan seal upon their +faces. + +Crossing glittering avenues, she went into the throng emerging from the +places of forgetfulness. She hurried forward through the crowd as if +intent upon reaching a distant home, bending forward in her handsome +cloak, daintily lifting her skirts and picking for her well-shod feet +the dryer spots upon the pavements. + +The restless doors of saloons, clashing to and fro, disclosed animated +rows of men before bars and hurrying barkeepers. + +A concert hall gave to the street faint sounds of swift, machine-like +music, as if a group of phantom musicians were hastening. + +A tall young man, smoking a cigarette with a sublime air, strolled near +the girl. He had on evening dress, a moustache, a chrysanthemum, and a +look of ennui, all of which he kept carefully under his eye. Seeing +the girl walk on as if such a young man as he was not in existence, he +looked back transfixed with interest. He stared glassily for a moment, +but gave a slight convulsive start when he discerned that she was +neither new, Parisian, nor theatrical. He wheeled about hastily and +turned his stare into the air, like a sailor with a search-light. + +A stout gentleman, with pompous and philanthropic whiskers, went +stolidly by, the broad of his back sneering at the girl. + +A belated man in business clothes, and in haste to catch a car, bounced +against her shoulder. "Hi, there, Mary, I beg your pardon! Brace up, +old girl." He grasped her arm to steady her, and then was away running +down the middle of the street. + +The girl walked on out of the realm of restaurants and saloons. She +passed more glittering avenues and went into darker blocks than those +where the crowd travelled. + +A young man in light overcoat and derby hat received a glance shot +keenly from the eyes of the girl. He stopped and looked at her, +thrusting his hands in his pockets and making a mocking smile curl his +lips. "Come, now, old lady," he said, "you don't mean to tel me that +you sized me up for a farmer?" + +A labouring man marched along; with bundles under his arms. To her +remarks, he replied, "It's a fine evenin', ain't it?" + +She smiled squarely into the face of a boy who was hurrying by with his +hands buried in his overcoat pockets, his blonde locks bobbing on his +youthful temples, and a cheery smile of unconcern upon his lips. He +turned his head and smiled back at her, waving his hands. + +"Not this eve--some other eve!" + +A drunken man, reeling in her pathway, began to roar at her. "I ain' ga +no money!" he shouted, in a dismal voice. He lurched on up the street, +wailing to himself: "I ain' ga no money. Ba' luck. Ain' ga no more +money." + +The girl went into gloomy districts near the river, where the tall +black factories shut in the street and only occasional broad beams of +light fell across the pavements from saloons. In front of one of these +places, whence came the sound of a violin vigorously scraped, the +patter of feet on boards and the ring of loud laughter, there stood a +man with blotched features. + +Further on in the darkness she met a ragged being with shifting, +bloodshot eyes and grimy hands. + +She went into the blackness of the final block. The shutters of the +tall buildings were closed like grim lips. The structures seemed to +have eyes that looked over them, beyond them, at other things. Afar off +the lights of the avenues glittered as if from an impossible distance. +Street-car bells jingled with a sound of merriment. + +At the feet of the tall buildings appeared the deathly black hue of the +river. Some hidden factory sent up a yellow glare, that lit for a +moment the waters lapping oilily against timbers. The varied sounds of +life, made joyous by distance and seeming unapproachableness, came +faintly and died away to a silence. + + + +Chapter XVIII + +In a partitioned-off section of a saloon sat a man with a half dozen +women, gleefully laughing, hovering about him. The man had arrived at +that stage of drunkenness where affection is felt for the universe. + +"I'm good f'ler, girls," he said, convincingly. "I'm damn good f'ler. +An'body treats me right, I allus trea's zem right! See?" + +The women nodded their heads approvingly. "To be sure," they cried out +in hearty chorus. "You're the kind of a man we like, Pete. You're +outa sight! What yeh goin' to buy this time, dear?" + +"An't'ing yehs wants, damn it," said the man in an abandonment of good +will. His countenance shone with the true spirit of benevolence. He +was in the proper mode of missionaries. He would have fraternized with +obscure Hottentots. And above all, he was overwhelmed in tenderness +for his friends, who were all illustrious. + +"An't'ing yehs wants, damn it," repeated he, waving his hands with +beneficent recklessness. "I'm good f'ler, girls, an' if an'body treats +me right I--here," called he through an open door to a waiter, "bring +girls drinks, damn it. What 'ill yehs have, girls? An't'ing yehs +wants, damn it!" + +The waiter glanced in with the disgusted look of the man who serves +intoxicants for the man who takes too much of them. He nodded his head +shortly at the order from each individual, and went. + +"Damn it," said the man, "we're havin' heluva time. I like you girls! +Damn'd if I don't! Yer right sort! See?" + +He spoke at length and with feeling, concerning the excellencies of his +assembled friends. + +"Don' try pull man's leg, but have a heluva time! Das right! Das way +teh do! Now, if I sawght yehs tryin' work me fer drinks, wouldn' buy +damn t'ing! But yer right sort, damn it! Yehs know how ter treat a +f'ler, an' I stays by yehs 'til spen' las' cent! Das right! I'm good +f'ler an' I knows when an'body treats me right!" + +Between the times of the arrival and departure of the waiter, the man +discoursed to the women on the tender regard he felt for all living +things. He laid stress upon the purity of his motives in all dealings +with men in the world and spoke of the fervor of his friendship for +those who were amiable. Tears welled slowly from his eyes. His voice +quavered when he spoke to them. + +Once when the waiter was about to depart with an empty tray, the man +drew a coin from his pocket and held it forth. + +"Here," said he, quite magnificently, "here's quar'." + +The waiter kept his hands on his tray. + +"I don' want yer money," he said. + +The other put forth the coin with tearful insistence. + +"Here, damn it," cried he, "tak't! Yer damn goo' f'ler an' I wan' yehs +tak't!" + +"Come, come, now," said the waiter, with the sullen air of a man who is +forced into giving advice. "Put yer mon in yer pocket! Yer loaded an' +yehs on'y makes a damn fool of yerself." + +As the latter passed out of the door the man turned pathetically to the +women. + +"He don' know I'm damn goo' f'ler," cried he, dismally. + +"Never you mind, Pete, dear," said a woman of brilliance and audacity, +laying her hand with great affection upon his arm. "Never you mind, +old boy! We'll stay by you, dear!" + +"Das ri'," cried the man, his face lighting up at the soothing tones of +the woman's voice. "Das ri', I'm damn goo' f'ler an' w'en anyone +trea's me ri', I treats zem ri'! Shee!" + +"Sure!" cried the women. "And we're not goin' back on you, old man." + +The man turned appealing eyes to the woman of brilliance and audacity. +He felt that if he could be convicted of a contemptible action he would +die. + +"Shay, Nell, damn it, I allus trea's yehs shquare, didn' I? I allus +been goo' f'ler wi' yehs, ain't I, Nell?" + +"Sure you have, Pete," assented the woman. She delivered an oration to +her companions. "Yessir, that's a fact. Pete's a square fellah, he +is. He never goes back on a friend. He's the right kind an' we stay +by him, don't we, girls?" + +"Sure," they exclaimed. Looking lovingly at him they raised their +glasses and drank his health. + +"Girlsh," said the man, beseechingly, "I allus trea's yehs ri', didn' +I? I'm goo' f'ler, ain' I, girlsh?" + +"Sure," again they chorused. + +"Well," said he finally, "le's have nozzer drink, zen." + +"That's right," hailed a woman, "that's right. Yer no bloomin' jay! +Yer spends yer money like a man. Dat's right." + +The man pounded the table with his quivering fists. + +"Yessir," he cried, with deep earnestness, as if someone disputed him. +"I'm damn goo' f'ler, an' w'en anyone trea's me ri', I allus +trea's--le's have nozzer drink." + +He began to beat the wood with his glass. + +"Shay," howled he, growing suddenly impatient. As the waiter did not +then come, the man swelled with wrath. + +"Shay," howled he again. + +The waiter appeared at the door. + +"Bringsh drinksh," said the man. + +The waiter disappeared with the orders. + +"Zat f'ler damn fool," cried the man. "He insul' me! I'm ge'man! +Can' stan' be insul'! I'm goin' lickim when comes!" + +"No, no," cried the women, crowding about and trying to subdue him. +"He's all right! He didn't mean anything! Let it go! He's a good +fellah!" + +"Din' he insul' me?" asked the man earnestly. + +"No," said they. "Of course he didn't! He's all right!" + +"Sure he didn' insul' me?" demanded the man, with deep anxiety in his +voice. + +"No, no! We know him! He's a good fellah. He didn't mean anything." + +"Well, zen," said the man, resolutely, "I'm go' 'pol'gize!" + +When the waiter came, the man struggled to the middle of the floor. + +"Girlsh shed you insul' me! I shay damn lie! I 'pol'gize!" + +"All right," said the waiter. + +The man sat down. He felt a sleepy but strong desire to straighten +things out and have a perfect understanding with everybody. + +"Nell, I allus trea's yeh shquare, din' I? Yeh likes me, don' yehs, +Nell? I'm goo' f'ler?" + +"Sure," said the woman of brilliance and audacity. + +"Yeh knows I'm stuck on yehs, don' yehs, Nell?" + +"Sure," she repeated, carelessly. + +Overwhelmed by a spasm of drunken adoration, he drew two or three bills +from his pocket, and, with the trembling fingers of an offering priest, +laid them on the table before the woman. + +"Yehs knows, damn it, yehs kin have all got, 'cause I'm stuck on yehs, +Nell, damn't, I--I'm stuck on yehs, Nell--buy drinksh--damn't--we're +havin' heluva time--w'en anyone trea's me ri'--I--damn't, Nell--we're +havin' heluva--time." + +Shortly he went to sleep with his swollen face fallen forward on his +chest. + +The women drank and laughed, not heeding the slumbering man in the +corner. Finally he lurched forward and fell groaning to the floor. + +The women screamed in disgust and drew back their skirts. + +"Come ahn," cried one, starting up angrily, "let's get out of here." + +The woman of brilliance and audacity stayed behind, taking up the bills +and stuffing them into a deep, irregularly-shaped pocket. A guttural +snore from the recumbent man caused her to turn and look down at him. + +She laughed. "What a damn fool," she said, and went. + +The smoke from the lamps settled heavily down in the little +compartment, obscuring the way out. The smell of oil, stifling in its +intensity, pervaded the air. The wine from an overturned glass dripped +softly down upon the blotches on the man's neck. + + + +Chapter XIX + +In a room a woman sat at a table eating like a fat monk in a picture. + +A soiled, unshaven man pushed open the door and entered. + +"Well," said he, "Mag's dead." + +"What?" said the woman, her mouth filled with bread. + +"Mag's dead," repeated the man. + +"Deh hell she is," said the woman. She continued her meal. When she +finished her coffee she began to weep. + +"I kin remember when her two feet was no bigger dan yer t'umb, and she +weared worsted boots," moaned she. + +"Well, whata dat?" said the man. + +"I kin remember when she weared worsted boots," she cried. + +The neighbors began to gather in the hall, staring in at the weeping +woman as if watching the contortions of a dying dog. A dozen women +entered and lamented with her. Under their busy hands the rooms took +on that appalling appearance of neatness and order with which death is +greeted. + +Suddenly the door opened and a woman in a black gown rushed in with +outstretched arms. "Ah, poor Mary," she cried, and tenderly embraced +the moaning one. + +"Ah, what ter'ble affliction is dis," continued she. Her vocabulary +was derived from mission churches. "Me poor Mary, how I feel fer yehs! +Ah, what a ter'ble affliction is a disobed'ent chil'." + +Her good, motherly face was wet with tears. She trembled in eagerness +to express her sympathy. The mourner sat with bowed head, rocking her +body heavily to and fro, and crying out in a high, strained voice that +sounded like a dirge on some forlorn pipe. + +"I kin remember when she weared worsted boots an' her two feets was no +bigger dan yer t'umb an' she weared worsted boots, Miss Smith," she +cried, raising her streaming eyes. + +"Ah, me poor Mary," sobbed the woman in black. With low, coddling +cries, she sank on her knees by the mourner's chair, and put her arms +about her. The other women began to groan in different keys. + +"Yer poor misguided chil' is gone now, Mary, an' let us hope it's fer +deh bes'. Yeh'll fergive her now, Mary, won't yehs, dear, all her +disobed'ence? All her t'ankless behavior to her mudder an' all her +badness? She's gone where her ter'ble sins will be judged." + +The woman in black raised her face and paused. The inevitable sunlight +came streaming in at the windows and shed a ghastly cheerfulness upon +the faded hues of the room. Two or three of the spectators were +sniffling, and one was loudly weeping. The mourner arose and staggered +into the other room. In a moment she emerged with a pair of faded baby +shoes held in the hollow of her hand. + +"I kin remember when she used to wear dem," cried she. The women burst +anew into cries as if they had all been stabbed. The mourner turned to +the soiled and unshaven man. + +"Jimmie, boy, go git yer sister! Go git yer sister an' we'll put deh +boots on her feets!" + +"Dey won't fit her now, yeh damn fool," said the man. + +"Go git yer sister, Jimmie," shrieked the woman, confronting him +fiercely. + +The man swore sullenly. He went over to a corner and slowly began to +put on his coat. He took his hat and went out, with a dragging, +reluctant step. + +The woman in black came forward and again besought the mourner. + +"Yeh'll fergive her, Mary! Yeh'll fergive yer bad, bad, chil'! Her +life was a curse an' her days were black an' yeh'll fergive yer bad +girl? She's gone where her sins will be judged." + +"She's gone where her sins will be judged," cried the other women, like +a choir at a funeral. + +"Deh Lord gives and deh Lord takes away," said the woman in black, +raising her eyes to the sunbeams. + +"Deh Lord gives and deh Lord takes away," responded the others. + +"Yeh'll fergive her, Mary!" pleaded the woman in black. The mourner +essayed to speak but her voice gave way. She shook her great shoulders +frantically, in an agony of grief. Hot tears seemed to scald her +quivering face. Finally her voice came and arose like a scream of pain. + +"Oh, yes, I'll fergive her! I'll fergive her!" + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 447 *** |