Part 2 (1/2)
Rosie explained. ”And Jarge says,” she concluded, ”they tumble right over like ninepins.”
”Who's Jarge?”
”Jarge Riley, our boarder. He's little but he's a dandy sc.r.a.pper. Terry says so, too.”
Danny wagged his head. ”Jarge is right. I've turned the same thrick meself in me younger days, many's the time.”
”It would just serve that Otto Schnitzer right, don't you think so, Danny?”
”I do!” Danny declared. He looked at Rosie with a sudden light in his little blue eyes. ”Say, Rosie, why don't you try it on him? He's nuthin'
but a bag o' wind anyhow. One good blow and he'll bust.”
Rosie cried out in protest: ”But, Danny, he's so big and I'm so scared!
I don't want to fight! I'm glad it's not ladylike to fight, it scares me so!”
”Whisht, darlint!” Danny raised a quieting hand. ”Mind now what I'm sayin': Almost everybody's got to fight sometime. I don't mean to pick a fight but to fight in plain self-protiction. Now it's me own opinion that young hound of a lad'll never let up on ye, Rosie, till ye larn him a good lesson. I could give him a crack wid me stick if ever he'd come nigh enough, but he'd be at you just the same the next time I wasn't around. Now, Rosie, if you ask me, I'd advise you to farce yirself to give that young bully a good chin-chopper once and for all. And, what's more, I'll take me oath ye'll never be feared of him again.... Come here and I'll show you how to go at him. Palm up now with yir fingers bent making a little cup of the inside of your hand. Do ye see? Now the thrick is here: Run at him hard and catch his chin in the little cup.
One good blow and you'll push him over. Oh, you can't miss it, Rosie.”
Rosie's breath was coming fast and her hand was cold and shaky. ”But I don't want to do it, Danny, honest I don't! I can't tell you how scared I am!”
Danny wagged his head. ”Of course you don't want to do it, Rosie.
Because why? Because ye're a little lady. But I know one thing: ye'll make yirself do it! And them that makes theirselves do it, not because they want to do it but because it's the right thing to do, I tell ye, Rosie, them's the best fighters! Come, come, I'll crawl out to the gate wid ye and hold yir apple for you while ye do the business.”
Fixing his bright little eyes upon her, Danny waited until Rosie had, perforce, to consent. Then, with her help, he stood up and slowly hobbled to the door.
”We won't mintion the matther to the ould woman,” he whispered with a wink. ”She mightn't understand.”
Rosie almost hoped that old Mary would catch them and haul Danny back, but she could not, of course, give the alarm.
As she had expected, the Schnitzer was there waiting for her. At sight of Danny he moved off a little.
”Now then, Rosie dear,” Danny whispered, after Rosie had propped him securely against the gate-post; ”at him and may luck be wid ye! It's high time that young c.o.c.k crowed his last!”
As Danny spoke, the Schnitzer's taunting cry rang out: ”Look at the paper-girl, paper-girl, paper-girl!”
Rosie started up the street and the Schnitzer cavorted and pranced some little distance in the front of her, making playful pounces at her papers, threatening to clutch her hair, her arms, her dress. Then, suddenly, he stood still, stretching himself across the middle of the walk to bar her pa.s.sage.
Rosie's heart pounded so hard she could scarcely breathe. She wanted to dodge to the side and run, she wanted to turn back, she wanted to do anything rather than go straight on. But she felt Danny's presence behind her, she heard the click-clack he was making with his stick to encourage her, and she pushed herself forward.
Then her mood changed. What had she ever done to this great lout of a boy that he should be annoying her thus? He was not only terrorizing her daily with no provocation whatever but, in addition, he was doing his best to beat her out of her job. Yes, if she lost this well-paying job tomorrow, it would be his fault, for he was the one thing on the route that caused her trouble.... Oh, for the fist of a Jarge to give him the chin-chopper he deserved!
She was close on to him now, looking him full in the eye. ”Otto Schnitzer, you let me go by!” The words came so naturally that she was not conscious of speaking. ”I guess I got as much right to this sidewalk as you have!”
”You have, have you? Well, who do you think you are, anyway?” The Schnitzer pushed out his jaw at her and grinned mockingly.
_Who do you think you are?_ Where had Rosie heard those insulting words before? Ah, she remembered and, as she remembered, all fear seemed instantly to leave her heart and she cried out in ringing tones: