being in uniform. But that's the way he walked with his
Lottie too, whether he was in uniform or not. People on
the street reacted.
Those whose pleasure came from the ill luck of others
thought: I don't know what he did hut I'm glad they caught
him. Kinder
[ s7 ]
people thought: The poor thing! So young, to go wrong. I
hope they're easy on him.
The Moriarity household watched him leave with the
policeman. Biddy watched from behind the bars of the
basement diningroom window. The Boss and The Missus
watched from behind the lace curtains of the parlor and
Mary watched alone from the music room. They sat` how
pale and drawn his face looked under the street light.
Biddy was sure in her mind that Patsy Moore had raped
a servant girl and gotten her in the family way. The
Missus was sure he'd stolen a bag of phoney because it
would be Christmas soon and he wanted to buy presents
for everyone.
Moriarity had it figured out. The big cop was a stool
pigeon sent by the reform candidate who hoped to be
elected in November. The cop was taking Patsy away so
that the higher-ups of the reform party could force him to
inform on the activities of him, Michael Moriaritv.
Only Mary felt the truth. He has had news that grieved
hill', she thought.
~9 CH~IP7ER EIGHT A
Lo-rrl1 made up a little party for Patsy. She sent Big Red
out to the delicatessen for smoked whitefish, slabs of
creamy, smoked sturgeon and wedges of smoked eel. She
gave him instructions to get a dozen bottles of light
beer off the ice. (She didn't think it was refined to run
down for a pail of draft beer when company came.)
Lottie thoughtfully plied Patsy with food. "Eat," she said.
"It will help you forget your sorrows and troubles."
Big Red asked for permission to soak his feet. He
explained that he'd gone to Moriarity's directly from work
and hadn't had an opportunity . . . His request was
graciously granted by wife and guest
I )h, I
The food was gone, the beer was nearly gone and they
had a hard time digging up things to talk about. Big Red
thought a little entertainment was in order. He asked
Lottie to sing. She demurred, as was proper, and modestly
confessed she had never had her voice cultivated. Big Red
told her she was too bashful for her own good. He told
Patsy that she had a grand voice. She broke down under
the coaxing and said she'd sing if Big Red would
accompany her on his bugle. He demurred too, because in
polite society one must not be too eager to show off one's
talent. After the coaxing had gone on too long and Patsy
and Lottie were about to take his word for it that he
couldn't blow a note, he gave in, rummaged in the clothes
closet, and came up with his bugle.
He stood in the middle of the parlor in his bare feet
and, after a few false starts, he played a stirring reveille.
After he had gotten all of the neighbors' children out of
bed, he tapered off, stood at attention holding his bugle
over his heart, while Lottie sang:
Oh, the-e-e-yice Neal
Is a nice man . . .
When her SOIIg was done, he lifted his bugle and
played a long-drawn-out taps. Widdy, who had arisen from
his cot at reveille, now crawled back after taps. It had
been a short day for him. Lottie waited until the boy was
sound asleep again before she suggested! they ought to get
Widdy up to recite "Hiawatha." Big Red went in and
shook him awake.
Widdv stood in the middle of the parlor. He took a
short CUt through the coaxing. He w as anxious to get
back to bed.
By the shores of Girchee Goomce, By the shining
Big-Sea-Water, Stood the u igwam of Nokomis.
Daughter of the moon, Nokomis.
He droned on and on and on in a monotonous singsong.
When he had finished, Patsy clapped in delirious and
noisy delight not in praise but in deep gratitude that the
interminable droning was at an end. Widdy wanted to go
back to bed but Big Red ordered him to wait for the treat
of the evening.
1 i91
'This you must not miss, me son," he said. He turned to
Patsy. Would you now, Pathrick, dance one of your grand
old Irish jigs for us?"
Lottie put her hands together and made a sound of
ecstasy. Patsy shook his head. Well, that was right to
refuse at first; not to seem eager. They understood. He
wanted his full share of coaxing.
"Pretty please? " begged Lottie. "With whipped cream on
"I couldn't," said Patsy.
"Don't be like that, boy," said Big Red heartily.
Under the coaxing, Patsy's feet started to tingle. The
rotation of the steps raced through his mind. He was
about to make the speech of acceptance:
I-might-be-a-little-rusty, but-I'II-try, when Widdy had to
put in his two cents' worth.
"Hey, Pop! Ain't this the feller you licked that time you
went to Ireland, when he was jigging?"
"Oh, Widdy!" moaned Lottie piteously.
"Shut up, son," said Big Red, low and ominously.
"But, Pop!" Widdy made puzzled peaks out of his
eyebrows. 'You said! You told me and Mom how you
licked the . . ."
The back of Big Red's hand, with tufts of red hair on
the knuckles, made an arc Ad landed on Widdy's cheek.
The blow sent the kid halfway across the parlor.
"That'll learn you," said Big Red. "You and your
Nokomis!"
"It's past his bedtime," said Lottie.
"What s he doing up so late then?" He turned to yell at
Widdy. "Get back in bed," he shouted, "where you
belong!"
I could kill him, thought Patsy. Him and his ~help!
"I got to go," said Patsy.
"Now," said Big Red, "you know how kids is."
"You can't go," wailed I,ottie. "I was just going to make
some strong hot coffee and send Timmy down to see if
the baker's is still open and get a crumb cake."
"I'll thank you for me cap and for nothing else," said
Patsy.
Lottie, with tears in her eyes, begged him to stay. Big
Red assured him that he wouldn't have had it happen for
a million dollars but what can NTou do with kids? When
they saw that Patsy was not to be moved, Big Red went to
the door with him and said the correct fat ewell words:
1 6,, 1
"Now that you knot` the way to our house, don't be a
stranger."
"May God strike me dead," said Patsy passionately, "if I
ever set foot in this house again!"
"I had enough out of you," said Big Red. "A mistake was
made. All right! I apologised. What do I get back? May
God strike you dead if you ever . . . You listen to me:
May I drop dead if I ever let you set foot in this house
again!"
"Yeah?" said Patsy.
"Yeah! And another thing: Oncet I crossed the ocean to
give you a good licking. This time I just got to cross
Newtown Creek to give you more where that first licking
came from."
"Yeah? "
"Yeah! "
"Yeah?" repeated Patsy. "Well, listen!" He opened the
door and put one foot out. "I'll bury youse all," shouted
Patsy. "And enjoy me bowl of pot cheese after the
funeral."
Then he ran like hell.
`~ CHAPTER NINE ~
MARY, sitting at her window and waiting for Patsy, saw
him come home about one A.M. He had stopped in at the
saloon to have a few beers and to brood. He climbed up
to his loft and without lighting the lamp threw himself on
his cot.
Mary slipped out of the house in her dressing gown and
bedroom slippers. She stood at the foot of the ladder
leading to the loft. One of the horses whinnied and for a
second she was afraid someone would awaken in the
house. She waited. No light went on. She called Patsy's
name. He didn't answer, pretending not to hear. She
climbed up to his room. He lit the lamp. She went to the
table and turned the lamp low. He was in a panic.
"Miss Mary, please go," he said. "God help me if your
father finds you in me room this late."
"Never mind my father," she said. "Patrick, please tell me
all
~ 6' ]
about it." He shook his head. "You've had bad news from
Ireland." He said nothing. "Is it your mother?" He turned
away from her.
"I am your friend, Patrick. Tell your friend your
troubles. Don't hold them to yourself. A trouble shared is
a trouble halved. Tell me, Patrick. It may help."
He broke down a little and started telling her. He spoke
of his boyhood, his mother, Rory-Boy and Maggie Rose.
He told of being whipped by Big Red and how he had
sneaked out of Ireland and how his money had been
stolen his first day in America. And then he told of his
mother's death and Maggie Rose's marriage and the
Her eyes were filled with tears all during his story.
"And now," he concluded, "me old life is gone and the
new life I'm making . . . I mean the new life everyone is
making for me is no good. I don't like nobody no more
and I don't want nobody to like me."
"You don't mean that, Patrick. You say that because
you've been so hurt; and so alone in a strange land."
"I mean it. I'm never going to give nothing to nobody
and I'm going to take everything I can get from
everybody."
She smiled at his boyish ultimatum. "Ah, no, Patrick,"
she said. "You could never live like that. Why, you're so
young so full of life. Everyone would like you so much
if only you'd let people...."
Suddenly, he broke down and wept piteously. She held
out her arms in compassion.
"Come to me, Patrick dear," she said. "Come to me."
She stood before him, her arms outstretched toward
him. Her loose robe concealed the way she was straight up
and down without curves. Her hair hung loose to her waist
and the golden lamplight made her pass for pretty.
Because he was so lonesome and so starved for love, he
went to her. She held him tightly and kept saying: "There
now. There now." She was like a mother soothing a child.
"There now," she said. Ele put his arms about her waist
and she stroked his shoulder and said: "There now. Don't
cry any more."
They held each other. But no matter how tightly they
held each other, there was no blending. Her body stayed
straight and
~ 6' 1
stiff. It did not know how to relax against his.
He thought of the last time he had held Maggie
Rose how her little waist curved in and her thighs curved
out. He remembered the evening. He had stood with one
foot up on a stone wall and she had leaned against him.
He remembered how his upraised thigh had fitted the
curve of her waist and how the curve of his arm fitted all
around her.
When a girl and a man fit together so grand, he thought,
sure God made them for each other. And why did I ever
leave me own Maggie Rose? He sighed.
And this good girl l'nz holding in me awns now, he
thought sadly, we will never fit together.
He was quiet and she thought he was comforted. "I
NN7i~ leave you now," she said. She waited. He kissed
her cheek. He held the lamp so that she could find her
way down from his loft.
After she had slipped back into the house, he came
down from his loft and stood in the yard. He leaned
against the stable and smoked his pipe and thought of
Mary how good she was; how kind and understanding.
He felt warm toward her. It was almost like love. Then his
mood was broken. Biddy came out from behind a snowball
bush.
"Ah, so," she said. "So me pretty man changed his mind
about waiting for the marrying before he did you know
what."
"Go away, Biddy," he said wearily.
"That I won't till I've had me say."
He looked at her with aversion. Her hair was in a thick
braid down her back and the end of it twitched and
writhed around her backside like a black snake. She wore
a crepe kimono and her flesh was unconfined beneath it.
There was a continuous movement under the kimono as
though something were boiling inside. Patsy winced.
I avoider do then things hurt her, he thought, and them
not being hoisted up and resting on top of the corset.
"I seen youse," she said. "There I was sleeping and I
heard this noise and what do I do but I wake up. First, I
thought it was only the horses pooling around in the straw.
Then I looked up at your window and saw youse spooning
against the lamplight."
"Go back to bed," he said. He emptied his pipe by
tapping it against the heel of his shoe. He stamped out the
few live coals
~ 63 1
and turned to go back t-O his room. "Good night," he
said.
"Listen!" she raised her voice. "I'm going to tell The
Boss on you. On the both of youse."
"Do so," he whispered savagely, "and I'll tell The Boss
on you! How you put in your Thursday night off by
working in Madame Della's aitch house in Greenpoint."
She sucked in her breath and her face looked purple in
the moonlight. "'Tis a black lie," she choked out.
"I know it," he agreed. "But The Boss will take it for
true. For is he not the one who likes to think the worst of
everyone?"
"You'll see!" she threatened.
At breakfast next morning, Mary told her parents of the
death of Patsy's m
other.
"Is he an orphan then?" asked The Missus.
"Why not?" said Mike. "And we all got to go someday."
He raved condensed milk over cooked ground horse's oats
in a soup plate.
"Papa," said Mary, 'Patrick's too good for the stable. He
wasn't meant to be a serf ant. Couldn't you use your
influence . . . pull . . . to get him better work?"
"Nothing doing," said her father. "I'll not give meself the
trouble of breaking in a new stable boy."
"At least, then, let him have that empty room on the top
floor of the house. That stable room isn't fit for a man to
live in."
"The next thing you know," he said jokingly, "you'll be
wanting to marry him."
"I do," she said quietly. "And I will if he asks me."
"Yah-ha-ha! Yah-ha-ha!" laughed Mike. "You and the
stable boy! That's rich. Ya-ha . . ."
Then something unprecedented happened. The Missus
spoke up to The Boss! "I don't see nothing to laugh at,"
she said.
He put down his spoon with meticulous care. "What did
you say, Missus? " he asked ominously.
"She's going on twenty-eight," said The Missus. "So far
no one asked her to get married." (Mary winced.) "So I
say if the boy wants to marry her, let him. She might not
get no other chance."
1 64]
"What did you say?" roared Mike, picking up his napkin
ring as though to throw it at her.
The Missus jumped up so suddenly that her chair fell
over backward. "Nothing," she whispered. "I didn't say
nothing. Excuse me." She scuttled out of the room.
"See what you done?" Mike asked his daughter. "You
and your loony talk at the table. Made your mother so
nervous she couldn't eat."
"Excuse me, Papa," said Mary quietly. "I'm almost late
for my class." She left him alone with his now cold horse's
oats.
Patsy was sweeping the sidewalk. The Boss peeped
through the lace curtains and watched Mary as she
stopped to talk to the stable boy. She seemed to be talking
eagerly. He saw Patsy nod his head from time to time and
he saw them smile at each other. She patted the boy's
shoulder in farewell. He waved to her when she turned for
a backward look.
Mike waited until Mary- had turned the corner before
he went down to deal with Patsy. He came up silently
behind him and shouted: "You!" It pleased him when
Patsy almost dropped his broom.
"Listen, y ou! You keel' your place. Hear? Let me see
you getting friendly with Miss Mary and you'll hear from
me. Get me? "
"She wants to be me friend. 'Tis kind of her."
"I told you before: She's kind to everyone. Even the
mongrel dogs on the street. And I tell you again: Don't
get idears."
"What idears?"
"Like you think you're good enough to marry her."
"I do not have such an idear. But if I wanted to marry
her and she wanted to marry me, whose business would it
be? Only ours, being's we're both of age. But rest your
mind. I'm not thinking of marrying."
"I'm glad to hear it," said Mike sarcastically. "Because
me daughter ain't thinking of marrying either especially
marrying a stable boy."
"I wasn't born a stable boy," said Patsy, quietly. "You
made me one. And Mary . . ."
"Miss Mary," corrected Mikc.
[ 65 1
"Mary," continued Patsy evenly, "don't look on me as
just a stable boy."
"Deary me, no," said Mike mincingly. "She loves you."
"Yes," said Patsy quietly.
"And you love her?"
Patsy hesitated before he answered. He said: "I'm
attached to her."
"Attached to her! Attached, you say, Mister Pathrick
Dennis Moore! And would it be that she's me only child
and she and her husband would fall in for all of me
property and money when me and The Missus dies have
anything to do with this here attachment?"
"Yes," said Patsy. "If I have to put up with the likes of
you for a father-in-law, by God, I'd deserve the property