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MAGGIEA GIRL OF THE STREETS
BY STEPHEN CRANE
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 greatcrimson oaths.
Run, Jimmie, run! Dey'll get yehs,screamed a retreating
Rum Alley child.
Naw,responded Jimmie with a valiant roardese 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 smallconvulsed faces there shone the grins of
true assassins. As they chargedthey threw stones and cursed in
The little champion of Rum Alley stumbled precipitately down
the other side. His coat had been torn to shreds in a scuffleand
his hat was gone. He had bruises on twenty parts of his bodyand
blood was dripping from a cut in his head. His wan features wore
a look of a tinyinsane demon.
On the groundchildren 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 frododging
hurling stones and swearing in barbaric trebles.
From a window of an apartment house that upreared its form
from amid squatignorant stablesthere leaned a curious woman.
Some laborersunloading a scow at a dock at the riverpaused for
a moment and regarded the fight. The engineer of a passive tugboat
hung lazily to a railing and watched. Over on the Islanda worm
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 weakcausing 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
yearsalthough 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 teetha 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 circleswinging 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 saidand smote the deeply-engaged one
on the back of the head. The little boy fell to the ground and
gave a hoarsetremendous howl. He scrambled to his feetand
perceivingevidentlythe size of his assailantran 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 lattermomentarilypaid 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 distancesand 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 eachdistorted versions of the fight. Causes of retreat
in particular cases were magnified. Blows dealt in the fight were
enlarged to catapultian powerand 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 childswaggering.
Little Jimmie was striving to stanch the flow of blood from
his cut lips. Scowlinghe 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. "Ahyouse 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 otherclinchedand rolled over on the
Smash 'im, Jimmie, kick deh damn guts out of 'im,yelled Pete
the lad with the chronic sneerin tones of delight.
The small combatants pounded and kickedscratched 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 strovehe
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 awaydamning.
Jimmie arose painfully from the ground and confronting his
fatherbegan 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 luridlyfor he felt that it was
degradation for one who aimed to be some vague soldieror a man of
blood with a sort of sublime licenseto be taken home by a father.
Eventually they entered into a dark region wherefrom a
careening buildinga 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 bucketsbroomsrags and bottles. In
the street infants played or fought with other infants or sat
stupidly in the way of vehicles. Formidable womenwith uncombed
hair and disordered dressgossiped while leaning on railingsor
screamed in frantic quarrels. Withered personsin curious
postures of submission to somethingsat 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 redbawling infant along the
crowded ways. He was hanging backbaby-likebracing his
The little girl cried out: "AhTommiecome 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 feetand they
went on. With the obstinacy of his orderhe protested against
being dragged in a chosen direction. He made heroic endeavors to
keep on his legsdenounce his sister and consume a bit of orange
peeling which he chewed between the times of his infantile
As the sullen-eyed manfollowed by the blood-covered boy
drew nearthe 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 himYouse 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
Ah, what deh hell!cried Jimmie. Shut up er I'll smack yer mout'. See?"
As his sister continued her lamentationshe suddenly swore
and struck her. The little girl reeled andrecovering 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
The urchin raised his voice in defiance to his parent and
continued his attacks. The babe bawled tremendouslyprotesting
with great violence. During his sister's hasty manoeuvreshe was
dragged by the arm.
Finally the procession plunged into one of the gruesome doorways.
They crawled up dark stairways and along coldgloomy 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 babeTommiewas knocked down. He protested with his
usual vehemencebecause 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 sinkandsoaking 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 scenehis face in contortions
like that of a woman at a tragedy. The fatherwith a newly-ladened
pipe in his mouthcrouched 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 saidwith a great grunt of contempt. "An' what in
the devil are you stickin' your nose for?"
The babe crawled under the table andturningpeered 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 murmuredtranquilly.
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 timebut 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' womanor you'll git done."
You're a liar. I ain't had a drop,she roared in reply.
They had a lurid altercationin which they damned each
other's souls with frequence.
The babe was staring out from under the tablehis small face
working in his excitement.
The ragged girl went stealthily over to the corner where the
Are yehs hurted much, Jimmie?she whispered timidly.
Not a damn bit! See?growled the little boy.
Will I wash deh blood?
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
In the quarrel between husband and wifethe woman was victor.
The man grabbed his hat and rushed from the roomapparently
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 bawledwaving feet
with their dishevelled shoes near the heads of her children.
She shrouded herselfpuffing and snortingin a cloud of steam
at the stoveand eventually extracted a frying-pan full of potatoes
She flourished it. "Come teh yer suppersnow she cried
with sudden exasperation. Hurry upnower 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 forcedwith feverish rapiditythe grease-enveloped pieces
between his wounded lips. Maggiewith side glances of fear of
interruptionate 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 chairshedding tears
and crooning miserably to the two children about their
poor motherand "yer faderdamn '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
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 hallsshrieking like a monk in
He floundered about in darkness until he found the stairs. He stumbled
panic-strickento 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?
Jimmie and the old woman listened long in the hall. Above the
muffled roar of conversationthe dismal wailings of babies at
nightthe thumping of feet in unseen corridors and roomsmingled
with the sound of varied hoarse shoutings in the street and the
rattling of wheels over cobblesthey 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
donat willan expression of great virtue. She possessed a small
music-box capable of one tuneand a collection of "God bless yehs"
pitched in assorted keys of fervency. Each day she took a position
upon the stones of Fifth Avenuewhere she crooked her legs under
her and crouched immovable and hideouslike an idol. She received
daily a small sum in pennies. It was contributedfor the most
partby persons who did not make their homes in that vicinity.
Oncewhen a lady had dropped her purse on the sidewalkthe
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 swoonand with her aged limbstwisted from
rheumatismhad 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. "Gonowlike a dear
an' buy me a canan' 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 fatherswaying about on uncertain legs.
Give me deh can. See?said the manthreateningly.
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 streetbut the man did not
pursue. He staggered toward the door.
I'll club hell outa yeh when I ketch yeh,he shoutedand
During the evening he had been standing against a bar drinking
whiskies and declaring to all comersconfidentially: "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 womanand 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
whoJimmie judgedhad 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. "Ahwha' 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 enteredquaking.
A glow from the fire threw red hues over the bare floorthe cracked
and soiled plasteringand 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 hadperhapsborne during the fight. Her bare
red arms were thrown out above her head in positions of exhaustion
somethingmayhaplike those of a sated villain.
The urchin bended over his mother. He was fearful lest she
should open her eyesand the dread within him was so strong
that he could not forbear to starebut hung as if fascinated
over the woman's grim face.
Suddenly her eyes opened. The urchin found himself looking
straight into that expressionwhichit would seemhad the power
to change his blood to salt. He howled piercingly and fell
The woman floundered for a momenttossed her arms about her
head as if in combatand 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 gloomthe eyes from out his drawn face
riveted upon the intervening door.
He heard it creakand then the sound of a small voice came to
him. "Jimmie! Jimmie! Are yehs dere?" it whispered. The urchin
started. The thinwhite 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 movedbut lay in the same death-like
sleep. The mother writhed in uneasy slumberher chest wheezing as
if she were in the agonies of strangulation. Out at the window a
florid moon was peering over dark roofsand in the distance the
waters of a river glimmered pallidly.
The small frame of the ragged girl was quivering. Her
features were haggard from weepingand 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 drawnby some force
to stare at the woman's facefor 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
windowdrawing close to the panesand looking in at the
prostrateheaving body of the mother.
The babeTommiedied. He went away in a white
insignificant coffinhis small waxen hand clutching a flower that
the girlMaggiehad 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 gutterand found it no worse than
he thought he had reason to believe it. He never conceived a
respect for the worldbecause he had begun with no idols that it
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 stovehe 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
You are damned,said the preacher. And the reader of sounds
might have seen the reply go forth from the ragged people: "Where's
Jimmie and a companion sat in a rear seat and commented upon
the things that didn't concern themwith all the freedom of
English gentlemen. When they grew thirsty and went out their minds
confused the speaker with Christ.
MomentarilyJimmie 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 bydreaming 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 weaknessand all good
coats covered faint hearts. He and his order were kingsto a
certain extentover the men of untarnished clothesbecause these
latter dreadedperhapsto 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. Soeventuallyhe 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 updrag 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 serenitycrossing 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 chaoshe entered
terrifically into the quarrel that was raging to and fro among the
drivers on their high seatsand 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 composedfor the most partof despicable
creatures who were all trying to take advantage of him and with
whomin defensehe 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 wereto his mind
rampant upon the front platforms of all the street cars. At first
his tongue strove with these beingsbut 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 habitwhen starting on a long journeyof
fixing his eye on a high and distant objectcommanding his horses
to beginand then going into a sort of a trance of observation.
Multitudes of drivers might howl in his rearand passengers might
load him with opprobriumhe 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 fellowshe believed that they were the only
men in the city who had no rights. When driving abouthe felt
that he was held liable by the police for anything that might occur
in the streetsand was the common prey of all energetic officials.
In revengehe resolved never to move out of the way of anything
until formidable circumstancesor 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 leapsplungesdives and straddles.
When they would thrust ator parrythe noses of his champing
horsesmaking them swing their heads and move their feet
disturbing a solid dreamy reposehe swore at the men as fools
for he himself could perceive that Providence had caused it clearly
to be writtenthat he and his team had the unalienable right to stand
in the proper path of the sun chariotand if they so minded
obstruct its mission or take a wheel off.
Andperhapsif the god-driver had an ungovernable desire to
step downput up his flame-colored fists and manfully dispute the
right of wayhe would have probably been immediately opposed by a
scowling mortal with two sets of very hard knuckles.
It is possibleperhapsthat this young man would have
deridedin an axle-wide alleythe approach of a flying ferry
boat. Yet he achieved a respect for a fire engine. As one charged
toward his truckhe would drive fearfully upon a sidewalk
threatening untold people with annihilation. When an engine would
strike a mass of blocked truckssplitting it into fragmentsas a
blow annihilates a cake of iceJimmie's team could usually be
observed high and safewith whole wheelson 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 horsesstriking
sparks from the cobbles in their forward lungewere creatures
to be ineffably admired. The clang of the gong pierced his breast
like a noise of remembered war.
When Jimmie was a little boyhe began to be arrested.
Before he reached a great agehe 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 fightsand 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 othercaused him considerable
annoyance by breaking forthsimultaneouslyat fateful intervals
into wailings about marriage and support and infants.
Neverthelesshe hadon a certain star-lit eveningsaid wonderingly
and quite reverently: "Deh moon looks like helldon't it?"
The girlMaggieblossomed 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-stairsdown-stairs and on the same floor
puzzled over it.
When a childplaying and fighting with gamins in the street
dirt disguised her. Attired in tatters and grimeshe went unseen.
There came a timehoweverwhen the young men of the vicinity
said: "Dat Johnson goil is a puty good looker." About this period
her brother remarked to her: "MagI'll tell yeh dis! See?
Yeh've edder got teh go teh hell or go teh work!" Whereupon she
went to workhaving the feminine aversion of going to hell.
By a chanceshe 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 collarsthe 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 officehe stumbled up-stairs
late at nightas his father had done before him. He reeled about
the roomswearing at his relationsor 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: "HelloMaryyou here
again?" Her grey head wagged in many a court. She always besieged
the bench with voluble excusesexplanationsapologies and
prayers. Her flaming face and rolling eyes were a sort of familiar
sight on the island. She measured time by means of spreesand was
eternally swollen and dishevelled.
One day the young manPetewho as a lad had smitten the
Devil's Row urchin in the back of the head and put to flight the
antagonists of his friendJimmiestrutted upon the scene.
He met Jimmie one day on the streetpromised to take him to
a boxing match in Williamsburgand 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 shortwire-like
hairs. His blue double-breasted coatedged with black braid
buttoned close to a red puff tieand 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 worldwho dismisses religion and philosophyand says
Fudge.He had certainly seen everything and with each curl of
his liphe 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 furtivelywith half-closed eyeslit 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?"
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?
Pete continued. "SayI jes' jumped deh bar an' deh way I
plunked dat blokie was great. See? Dat's right! In deh jaw!
See? Hully geehe t'rowed a spittoon true deh front windee. Say
I taut I'd drop dead. But deh bosshe comes in after an' he says
'Peteyehs 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 Petein conclusionbut 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
As Jimmie and his friend exchanged tales descriptive of their
prowessMaggie leaned back in the shadow. Her eyes dwelt
wonderingly and rather wistfully upon Pete's face. The broken
furnituregrimey wallsand 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 himoccasionallywondering if he was
feeling contempt. But Pete seemed to be enveloped in reminiscence.
Hully gee,said hedose mugs can't phase me. Dey knows I
kin wipe up deh street wid any t'ree of dem.
When he saidAh, 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 whereas God
saysthe little hills sing together in the morning. Under the
trees of her dream-gardens there had always walked a lover.
Pete took note of Maggie.
Say, Mag, I'm stuck on yer shape. It's outa sight,he said
parentheticallywith an affable grin.
As he became aware that she was listening closelyhe grew
still more eloquent in his descriptions of various happenings in
his career. It appeared that he was invincible in fights.
Why,he saidreferring to a man with whom he had had a
misunderstandingdat 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 roomwhich seemed then to
grow even smaller and unfit to hold his dignitythe 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. Itcombined with the sneer
upon his mouthtold 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 mean' den he turns aroun' an'
says'Yer insolen' ruffin' he sayslike dat. 'Ohgee' I says
'ohgeego teh hell and git off deh eart'' I sayslike 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 datan' 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 companyPete departed in a sort of a blaze
of glory from the Johnson home. Maggieleaning 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 brassclothed
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.
TurningMaggie contemplated the darkdust-stained wallsand
the scant and crude furniture of her home. A clockin a
splintered and battered oblong box of varnished woodshe suddenly
regarded as an abomination. She noted that it ticked raspingly.
The almost vanished flowers in the carpet-patternshe conceived to
be newly hideous. Some faint attempts she had made with blue
ribbonto freshen the appearance of a dingy curtainshe 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 himno doubtinto 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
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: "Ohev'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 mantelover the stovein the kitchen. She
studied it with painful anxiety from different points in the room.
She wanted it to look well on Sunday night whenperhapsJimmie's
friend would come. On Sunday nighthoweverPete 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
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 timeMaggie had a dim impression that his
wardrobe was prodigiously extensive.
Say, Mag,he saidput 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
vanishedwithout 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 personbut 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 snortedsitting up suddenlywhere 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 Maggiein a worn black dresswas 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
ghastlylike dead fleshlay in a corner. Maggie's red mother
stretched on the floorblasphemed and gave her daughter a bad name.
An orchestra of yellow silk women and bald-headed men on an
elevated stage near the centre of a great green-hued hallplayed
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 boysin
the costumes of French chefsparaded 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 livingsmoked their
pipes contentedly and spent fivetenor 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 Germanswith maybe their wives and two or three
childrensat listening to the musicwith the expressions of happy
cows. An occasional party of sailors from a war-shiptheir faces
pictures of sturdy healthspent the earlier hours of the evening
at the small round tables. Very infrequent tipsy menswollen with
the value of their opinionsengaged their companions in earnest
and confidential conversation. In the balconyand here and there
belowshone 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.
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
beforeand 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 waiterwith some warmthas
Ah, git off deh eart',said Peteafter the other's
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 girlin a pink
dress with short skirtsgalloped upon the stage. She smiled upon
the throng as if in acknowledgment of a warm welcomeand began to
walk to and fromaking profuse gesticulations and singingin
brazen soprano tonesa songthe 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 barsshe 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 forwardintent 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-towngiving to the
Bowery public the phantasies of the aristocratic theatre-going
publicat reduced rates.
Say, Pete,said Maggieleaning forwarddis is great.
Sure,said Petewith 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 Peteit's some damn fake. See?
Two girlson the bills as sisterscame 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 retireda woman of debatable age sang
a negro melody. The chorus necessitated some grotesque waddlings
supposed to be an imitation of a plantation darkeyunder the
influenceprobablyof music and the moon. The audience was just
enthusiastic enough over it to have her return and sing a sorrowful
laywhose 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 crowdthe
self-contained look faded. Many heads were bent forward with
eagerness and sympathy. As the last distressing sentiment of the
piece was brought forthit was greeted by that kind of applause
which rings as sincere.
As a final effortthe singer rendered some verses which
described a vision of Britain being annihilated by Americaand
Ireland bursting her bonds. A carefully prepared crisis was
reached in the last line of the last versewhere the singer threw
out her arms and criedThe 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 fireand calloused hands waved
frantically in the air.
After a few moments' restthe 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-lightswildly waving
a glossy silk hat and throwing leersor smilesbroadcast. He
made his face into fantastic grimaces until he looked like a
pictured devil on a Japanese kite. The crowd laughed gleefully.
His shortfat 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 finallythey jostled their way to
the sidewalk with the crowd. Pete took Maggie's arm and pushed a
way for heroffering 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 Petegive us a kiss for takin' yeh teh deh
show, will yer?
Maggie laughedas if startledand drew away from him.
Naw, Pete,she saiddat wasn't in it.
Ah, what deh hell?urged Pete.
The girl retreated nervously.
Ah, what deh hell?repeated he.
Maggie darted into the halland up the stairs. She turned
and smiled at himthen 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 saidI wonner if I've been played fer a duffer.
As thoughts of Pete came to Maggie's mindshe 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 notewith more interestthe 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
streetconceiving them to be allies of vast importance to women.
Studying facesshe thought many of the women and girls she
chanced to meetsmiled 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
roommere mechanical contrivances sewing seams and grinding out
with heads bended over their worktales of imagined or real
girlhood happinesspast drunksthe baby at homeand unpaid wages.
She speculated how long her youth would endure. She began to see
the bloom upon her cheeks as valuable.
She imagined herselfin an exasperating futureas a scrawny
woman with an eternal grievance. Tooshe 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.
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 throughbutat timeshe 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
guardianwho is cruelly after her bondsby the hero with the
beautiful sentiments. The latter spent most of his time out at
soak in pale-green snow stormsbusy 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 withinand theylike
the actorinevitably without. Viewing itthey 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
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 criesand
jeered the villainhooting and calling attention to his whiskers.
When anybody died in the pale-green snow stormsthe gallery mourned.
They sought out the painted misery and hugged it as akin.
In the hero's erratic march from poverty in the first actto
wealth and triumph in the final onein which he forgives all the
enemies that he has lefthe was assisted by the gallerywhich
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
wrongthe gallery was immediately aware if the actor meant
wickednessand denounced him accordingly.
The last act was a triumph for the heropoor and of the
massesthe representative of the audienceover the villain
and the rich manhis pockets stuffed with bondshis heart packed
with tyrannical purposesimperturbable 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 imitatedperhaps grotesquelyby the heroine on the
stagecould be acquired by a girl who lived in a tenement house
and worked in a shirt factory.
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 widerespectable 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 distancecalling out over their shoulders to her. She
stood tottering on the curb-stone and thundered at them.
Yeh devil's kids,she howledshaking 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 straggledgiving 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 outwatching her.
With a wrathful snort the woman confronted the doorbut it was
slammed hastily in her face and the key was turned.
She stood for a few minutesdelivering 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 twocat-callsjeers 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 gloomand Jimmie came forward. He carried a tin dinnerpail
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 followedcursing blackly. At the top of the flight he
seized his mother's arm and started to drag her toward the door of
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 Jimmiewe've had enough of dis. Sit down,
an' don' make no trouble.
He grasped her armand twisting itforced her into a
Keep yer hands off me,roared his mother again.
Damn yer ol' hide,yelled Jimmiemadly. 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: "Deredamn yehstay still." Maggie opened
the door nowand went warily out. "OhJimmie."
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 floorthe tears running down her furrowed face.
Maggiestanding in the middle of the roomgazed 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 legsand 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. "Ahwhat
deh hellMag? Come ahn and we'll have a hell of a time."
The mother in the corner upreared her head and shook her
Teh hell wid him and you,she saidglowering at her
daughter in the gloom. Her eyes seemed to burn balefully. "Yeh've
gone teh deh devilMag Johnsonyehs knows yehs have gone teh deh
devil. Yer a disgrace teh yer peopledamn yeh. An' nowgit out
an' go ahn wid dat doe-faced jude of yours. Go teh hell wid him
damn yehan' a good riddance. Go teh hell an' see how yeh likes
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,
The girl began to tremble.
At this instant Pete came forward. "Ohwhat deh hellMagsee
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 debrisand at the redwrithing body of her mother.
Go teh hell an' good riddance.
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 duststained
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 criedcoming 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 lateohvery late. An' shethe dearshe was a-cryin' as if
her heart would breakshe 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 breakpoor
t'ing. An' himI could see by deh way what he said it dat she had
been askin' orftenhe says: 'Ohhellyes' he sayssays he
Storm-clouds swept over Jimmie's facebut 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. "'Ohhellyes' he sayssays
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 tablestood uncertainly upon legs. The floor had been newly
swept. Toothe blue ribbons had been restored to the curtains
and the lambrequinwith its immense sheaves of yellow wheat
and red roses of equal sizehad been returnedin a worn and sorry
stateto 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 wonderfor an
instantif some of the women of his acquaintance had brothers.
Suddenlyhoweverhe began to swear.
But he was me frien'! I brought 'im here! Dat's deh hell of it!
He fumed about the roomhis anger gradually rising to the
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 shecoming
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
Deh hell she has,murmured the motherastounded.
Jimmie gruntedand then began to stare out at the window.
His mother sat down in a chairbut 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 roomher fierce face
convulsed with passionher 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
Jimmieme 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 badlike 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
coursedat Sadie was nice an' all dat--but--see--it ain't dessame
as if--wellMaggie was diff'ent--see--she was diff'ent."
He was trying to formulate a theory that he had always
unconsciously heldthat all sistersexcepting his owncould
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 handsentreating.
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 fellerher own fellerwhat we useter know his fader."
I could a' tol' yehs dis two years ago,said a womanin a
key of triumph. "Yessirit was over two years ago dat I says
teh my ol' manI says'Dat Johnson girl ain't straight' I says.
'Ohhell' he says. 'Ohhell.' '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
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!
Jimmie was determined. "He t'inks he kin scrapbut he'll
fin' out diff'ent."
Gee,remonstrated the friend. "What deh hell?"
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. Lemonsoranges and paper napkinsarranged with
mathematical precisionsat 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 crackersslices of boiled ham
dishevelled bits of cheeseand pickles swimming in vinegar.
An odor of graspingbegrimed hands and munching mouths pervaded.
Petein a white jacketwas 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
Jimmie and his companion kept their eyes upon the bartender
and conversed loudly in tones of contempt.
He's a dindy masherain't heby Gawd?" laughed Jimmie.
Oh, hell, yes,said the companionsneering widely. "He's
greathe 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 Jimmiein tones of command. Pete came along
slowlywith a sullen dropping of the under lip.
Well,he growledwhat's eatin' yehs?
Gin,said the companion.
As Pete confronted them with the bottle and the glassesthey
laughed in his face. Jimmie's companionevidently overcome with
merrimentpointed a grimy forefinger in Pete's direction.
Say, Jimmie,demanded hewhat deh hell is dat behind deh
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
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
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 voicedon' make no
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 faceand 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 Peteeasily. "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 nowan' 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 barI 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!
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 backwaving 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 himtaunting 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. "Ohhell!"
In a smalltossing groupthe 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 elbowsglaring 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 tremendouslightninglike
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-likewith the quickness of a cat. The fierceanswering
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 menat first flushed to flame-colored angernow
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 whitegripped teeth struggled
hoarse whisperings of oaths. Their eyes glittered with murderous fire.
Each head was huddled between its owner's shouldersand 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 lowlabored hissesthat
sounded like a desire to kill. Jimmie's ally gibbered at times like
a wounded maniac. Jimmie was silentfighting 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 barhurled it at
High on the wall it burst like a bombshivering fragments
flying in all directions. Then missiles came to every man's hand.
The place had heretofore appeared free of things to throwbut
suddenly glass and bottles went singing through the air. They were
thrown point blank at bobbing heads. The pyramid of shimmering
glassesthat had never been disturbedchanged 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 prayersperhaps 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 groupbending down to
look under the bamboo doorswatching the fall of glassand three
pairs of violent legschanged 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 thatwhen on his truck
he had for a fire engine. He howled and ran for the side door.
The officer made a terrific advanceclub 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?
Jimmiewith his face drenched in bloodescaped up a side street
pursued a short distance by some of the more law-lovingor excited
individuals of the crowd.
Laterfrom a corner safely darkhe saw the policemanthe
ally and the bartender emerge from the saloon. Pete locked the
doors and then followed up the avenue in the rear of the crowdencompassed
policeman and his charge.
On first thoughts Jimmiewith his heart throbbing at battle heat
started to go desperately to the rescue of his friendbut he halted.
Ah, what deh hell?he demanded of himself.
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 suitindustriously followed the bobs of
his head and the waves of his baton. A ballad singerin a dress
of flaming scarletsang in the inevitable voice of brass. When
she vanishedmen seated at the tables near the front applauded
loudlypounding the polished wood with their beer glasses. She
returned attired in less gownand 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 timebut the curiosity of the audience was not
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 timidas 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 wonderinglyhe took pride in commanding
the waiters who werehoweverindifferent 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 lifedwelling 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 saiddenouncing the mother and brother.
The sound of the music whichby the efforts of the frowsyheaded
leaderdrifted to her ears through the smoke-filled
atmospheremade 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? Nopy damn." She contemplated
Pete's man-subduing eyes and noted that wealth and prosperity was
indicated by his clothes. She imagined a futurerose-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.
Peteaware of itnodded at her and grinned. He felt proud.
Mag, yer a bloomin' good-looker,he remarkedstudying her
face through the haze. The men made Maggie fearbut she blushed
at Pete's words as it became apparent to her that she was the apple
of his eye.
Grey-headed menwonderfully pathetic in their dissipation
stared at her through clouds. Smooth-cheeked boyssome of them
with faces of stone and mouths of sinnot nearly so pathetic as
the grey headstried 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
poundedwhackedclattered and scratched on a dozen machines to
Those glances of the menshot 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 girlwith a shrinking movement
drew back her skirts.
Jimmie did not return home for a number of days after the
fight with Pete in the saloon. When he didhe approached with
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 Heavenbut 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
The fact that the neighbors talked of itmaddened her. When
women came inand in the course of their conversation casually
askedWhere'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 Maggiehow 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 noddedadmitting 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 motherraising her eyes.
One dayJimmie came homesat down in a chair and began to
wriggle about with a new and strange nervousness. At last he spoke
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 angelner 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,
It wasn't no prod'gal dauter, yeh damn fool,said the
mother. "It was prod'gal sonanyhow."
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,
With grim humorthe 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 frailtybut 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. Neverthelesshis mind did not for an instant
confuse himself with those brothers nor his sister with theirs.
After the mother hadwith great difficultysuppressed the
neighborsshe 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 herpeering 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
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. Butarguing with himself
stumbling about in ways that he knew notheoncealmost came to
a conclusion that his sister would have been more firmly good had
she better known why. Howeverhe felt that he could not hold such
a view. He threw it hastily aside.
In a hilarious hall there were twenty-eight tables and twentyeight
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
froswooping 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 beerall with a swiftness that blurred the view of
the cocoanut palms and dusty monstrosities painted upon the walls
of the room. A bouncerwith an immense load of business upon his
handsplunged about in the crowddragging bashful strangers to
prominent chairsordering waiters here and there and quarreling
furiously with men who wanted to sing with the orchestra.
The usual smoke cloud was presentbut 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 stagebut no one took notice of her.
The rate at which the pianocornet and violins were goingseemed
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 andfailingwent 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 hersanticipating with smiles
gracious looks from him.
A woman of brilliance and audacityaccompanied by a mere boy
came into the place and took seats near them.
At once Pete sprang to his feethis 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 shegiving 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 Peteat once.
When did yeh git back? How did dat Buff'lo bus'ness turn out?
The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Wellhe didn't have as
many stamps as he tried to make outso I shook himthat'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 conversationexchanging
reminiscences of days together. Maggie sat stillunable 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 affairsasked him about mutual friends
and knew the amount of his salary.
She paid no attention to Maggielooking 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 silenthe paid no attention to her. He made a
great show of lavishing wealth upon the woman of brilliance
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 Peteenthusiastic at once.
Say,whispered sheleaning forwardlet'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 shenodding her head at him. "All right for you!
We'll see the next time you ask me to go anywheres with you."
Say,he saidbeseechinglycome 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 hein 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 womanwith 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 whineto 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 tablesPete was
at her shoulder talking earnestlyapparently in explanation.
The woman waved her hands with studied airs of indifference.
The doors swung behind themleaving 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 womanpleading 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
Well,he saidsighingI 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
saidsuddenly. "It's a bloomin' shame the way that girl does.
WhyI'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.
Herewaiterbring 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 heryou bet. She won't get far
ahead of yours trulyyou 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
Freddieyou knowbut of course it ain't. I always tell these
people some name like thatbecause if they got onto your right name
they might use it sometime. Understand? Ohthey don't fool me much."
Maggie was paying no attentionbeing intent upon the doors.
The mere boy relapsed into a period of gloomduring which he
exterminated a number of cock-tails with a determined airas 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 remarkedthey's gone.He looked at her
through the smoke wreaths. "Shaylil' girlwe mightish well make
bes' of it. You ain't such bad-lookin' girly'know. Not half
bad. Can't come up to Nellthough. Nocan't do it! WellI
should shay not! Nell fine-lookin' girl! F--i--n--ine. You look
damn bad longsider herbut by y'self ain't so bad. Have to do
anyhow. Nell gone. On'y you left. Not half badthough."
Maggie stood up.
I'm going home,she said.
The mere boy started.
Eh? What? Home,he criedstruck 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 himselfstupefied.
In a semi-comatose state he conducted her on board an up-town car
ostentatiously paid her fareleered kindly at her through the
rear window and fell off the steps.
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 menbent on catching
some boat or trainjostled her elbowsfailing 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 grinas 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 saidwith 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 saidyehs 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.
Jimmie snarled. "Ohgo 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 mothertottering about the roompointed a quivering
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 sweetdeh beast? 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 loudtremendous 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 heras if they formed
the front row at a theatre. Womenwithoutbended toward each
other and whisperednodding their heads with airs of profound
philosophy. A babyovercome with curiosity concerning this object
at which all were lookingsidled forward and touched her dress
cautiouslyas if investigating a red-hot stove. Its mother's
voice rang out like a warning trumpet. She rushed forward and
grabbed her childcasting a terrible look of indignation at the girl.
Maggie's mother paced to and froaddressing the doorful of
eyesexpounding like a glib showman at a museum. Her voice rang
through the building.
Dere she stands,she criedwheeling 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 muddershe
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 saidhis
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 doorwrenched a scream like a wounded animal
from its mother. Another woman sprang forward and picked it up
with a chivalrous airas if rescuing a human being from an
oncoming express train.
As the girl passed down through the hallshe went before open
doors framing more eyes strangely microscopicand 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 tonguesover all of
which rang the mother's derisive laughter.
Pete did not consider that he had ruined Maggie. If he had
thought that her soul could never smile againhe would have
believed the mother and brotherwho were pyrotechnic over the
affairto be responsible for it.
Besidesin his worldsouls 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
saloonwho insisted upon respectability of an advanced type.
What deh hell do dey wanna raise such a smoke about it fer?
demanded he of himselfdisgusted 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 twitchingisn't it? Deardearmy cloud-
compelling Petewhat are you coming to?"
Pete asserted at once that he never was very much interested
in the girl. The woman interrupted himlaughing.
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 womenhe felt obliged to say that they were
only temporary or indifferent ones.
The morning after Maggie had departed from homePete 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 glasssoftly 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
audacitythe 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 startfearing for the previously-
mentioned eminent respectability of the place.
He threw a swiftnervous glance about himall at once
feeling guilty. No one was in the room.
He went hastily over to the side door. Opening it and looking
outhe perceived Maggie standingas if undecidedon the corner.
She was searching the place with her eyes.
As she turned her face toward him Pete beckoned to her
hurriedlyintent upon returning with speed to a position behind
the bar and to the atmosphere of respectability upon which the
Maggie came to himthe 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 hevehemently. "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. "WhyPete! 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. "Petedon't yeh remem--"
Oh, hell,interrupted Peteanticipating.
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 returnedwith an air of reliefto 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 shoulderhumorously took the
questioning word as intended for him.
Eh? What? Who? Nobody! I didn't say anything,
he laughingly saidand continued his way.
Soon the girl discovered that if she walked with such
apparent aimlessnesssome men looked at her with calculating eyes.
She quickened her stepfrightened. As a protectionshe 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 coatwhose 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 beamingchubby face was a picture of benevolence and
kind-heartedness. His eyes shone good-will.
But as the girl timidly accosted himhe 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?
Upon a wet eveningseveral months after the last chapter
two interminable rows of carspulled by slipping horses
jangled along a prominent side-street. A dozen cabswith coat-enshrouded
driversclattered to and fro. Electric lightswhirring softly
shed a blurred radiance. A flower dealerhis feet tapping
impatientlyhis 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 conversationtheir hearts still kindling from the
glowings of the stage.
The pavements became tossing seas of umbrellas. Men stepped
forth to hail cabs or carsraising 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 throngbornperhapsof 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 wanderersin 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 hergiving 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 avenuesshe went into the throng emerging
from the places of forgetfulness. She hurried forward through the
crowd as if intent upon reaching a distant homebending forward in
her handsome cloakdaintily lifting her skirts and picking for her
well-shod feet the dryer spots upon the pavements.
The restless doors of saloonsclashing to and frodisclosed
animated rows of men before bars and hurrying barkeepers.
A concert hall gave to the street faint sounds of swift
machine-like musicas if a group of phantom musicians were
A tall young mansmoking a cigarette with a sublime air
strolled near the girl. He had on evening dressa moustachea
chrysanthemumand a look of ennuiall of which he kept carefully
under his eye. Seeing the girl walk on as if such a young man as
he was not in existencehe looked back transfixed with interest.
He stared glassily for a momentbut gave a slight convulsive start
when he discerned that she was neither newParisiannor theatrical.
He wheeled about hastily and turned his stare into the air
like a sailor with a search-light.
A stout gentlemanwith pompous and philanthropic whiskers
went stolidly bythe broad of his back sneering at the girl.
A belated man in business clothesand in haste to catch a
carbounced against her shoulder. "HithereMaryI beg your
pardon! Brace upold 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
herthrusting his hands in his pockets and making a mocking smile
curl his lips. "Comenowold lady he said, you don't mean to
tell me that you sized me up for a farmer?"
A laboring man marched along with bundles under his arms.
To her remarkshe 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 overcoathis blonde locks bobbing on
his youthful templesand a cheery smile of unconcern upon his
lips. He turned his head and smiled back at herwaving his hands.
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 manwith deep anxiety
in his voice.
No, no! We know him! He's a good fellah. He didn't mean anything.
Well, zen,said the manresolutelyI'm go' 'pol'gize!
When the waiter camethe 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?
Overwhelmed by a spasm of drunken adorationhe drew two or
three bills from his pocketandwith the trembling fingers of an
offering priestlaid 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'
Shortly he went to sleep with his swollen face fallen forward on his chest.
The women drank and laughednot 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 onestarting up angrilylet's get out of here.
The woman of brilliance and audacity stayed behindtaking up
the bills and stuffing them into a deepirregularly-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.
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'lergirls he said, convincingly. I'm damn
good f'ler. An'body treats me rightI allus trea's zem right!
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
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 friendswho were all
An't'ing yehs wants, damn it,repeated hewaving his hands
with beneficent recklessness. "I'm good f'lergirlsan' if
an'body treats me right I--here called he through an open door
to a waiter, bring girls drinksdamn it. What 'ill yehs have
girls? An't'ing yehs wantsdamn 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 individualand
Damn it,said the manwe're havin' heluva time. I like
you girls! Damn'd if I don't! Yer right sort! See?
He spoke at length and with feelingconcerning 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
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 hequite magnificentlyhere'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 hetak't! Yer damn goo' f'ler an' I
wan' yehs tak't!
Come, come, now,said the waiterwith 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 hedismally.
Never you mind, Pete, dear,said a woman of brilliance and
audacitylaying her hand with great affection upon his arm.
Never you mind, old boy! We'll stay by you, dear!
Das ri',cried the manhis 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
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. "Yessirthat's a fact. Pete's a
square fellahhe is. He never goes back on a friend. He's the
right kind an' we stay by himdon't wegirls?"
Sure,they exclaimed. Looking lovingly at him they raised
their glasses and drank his health.
Girlsh,said the manbeseechinglyI allus trea's yehs
ri', didn' I? I'm goo' f'ler, ain' I, girlsh?
Sure,again they chorused.
Well,said he finallyle's have nozzer drink, zen.
That's right,hailed a womanthat'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 criedwith deep earnestnessas if someone
disputed him. "I'm damn goo' f'leran' 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 hegrowing suddenly impatient. As the waiter
did not then comethe 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 womencrowding 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 manwith deep anxiety
in his voice.
No, no! We know him! He's a good fellah. He didn't mean
Well, zen,said the manresolutelyI'm go' 'pol'gize!
When the waiter camethe man struggled to the middle of the
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
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?
Overwhelmed by a spasm of drunken adorationhe drew two or
three bills from his pocketandwith the trembling fingers of
an offering priestlaid 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 laughednot heeding the slumbering man in
the corner. Finally he lurched forward and fell groaning to the
The women screamed in disgust and drew back their skirts.
Come ahn,cried onestarting up angrilylet's get out of
The woman of brilliance and audacity stayed behindtaking up
the bills and stuffing them into a deepirregularly-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.
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 womanher 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 hallstaring 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. "Ahpoor Mary she cried, and tenderly
embraced the moaning one.
Ahwhat ter'ble affliction is dis continued she. Her vocabulary
was derived from mission churches. Me poor Maryhow I feel fer yehs!
Ahwhat a ter'ble affliction is a disobed'ent chil'."
Her goodmotherly 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 froand 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 criedraising her streaming eyes.
Ah, me poor Mary,sobbed the woman in black. With low
coddling criesshe 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 snifflingand 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 womanconfronting
The man swore sullenly. He went over to a corner and slowly
began to put on his coat. He took his hat and went outwith a
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
womenlike a choir at a funeral.
Deh Lord gives and deh Lord takes away,said the woman in
blackraising 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 franticallyin 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!