Part 2 (1/2)
”It just needs a stir in the kettle, Dil, for it's gone a bit sour; but it'll freshen up with salt an' some onion. How many babies?”
”Five,” answered Dil.
Just then Mrs. Gillen came flying up the stairs. She was not much beyond twenty, and still comely with youth and health and hope.
”O me darlint!” s.n.a.t.c.hing up her baby with rapture, ”did he want his own mammy, sure?” laughing gleefully between the kisses. ”Has he fretted any, Dil?”
”He's been very good.” Dil was too wise to tell bad tales.
”He always is, the darlint! An' I'm late. I was ironin' away for dear life, whin Mrs. Welford comes down wid a lasht summer's gown, an' sez she, 'Mrs. Gillen, you stop an' iron it, an' I'll give ye a quarther, for ye've had a big day's work,' sez she. So what cud I do, faix, when she shpoke so cliver loike, an' the money ready to hand?”
”They're not often so free wid their tin, though heaven knows they're free enough wid their work,” commented Mrs. Quinn, with a touch of contempt.
”Mrs. Welford is a rale lady, ivery inch of her. Jamsie grumbles that I go to her, but a bit o' tin comes in moighty handy. An' many's the cast-offs I do be getten, an' it all helps. Here's five cints, and here's a nickel for yourself, Dil. Whatever in the world should we be doin' widout ye?”
”Thank you, ma'am,” and Dil courtesied.
Mrs. Gillen bundled up her baby in her ap.r.o.n and wished them good-night, skipping home with a light heart to get her husband's supper, and hear him scold a little because she worked so late.
Mrs. Quinn held out her hand to her daughter.
”Gev me that nickel,” she said.
The ready obedience was inspired more by the fear of a blow than love.
The potatoes were done, and they sat down to supper. Certainly the boys _were_ hungry.
”I'm goin' to step down to Mrs. MacBride's an' sit on the stoop for a bit of fresh air,” she announced. ”I've worked that hard to-day there's no life left in me. Don't ye dare to stir out, ye spalpeens, or I'll break ivery blessed bone in your body,” and Mrs. Gillen shook her fist by way of a parting injunction.
II-SAt.u.r.dAY AFTERNOON
The boys waited until they were sure their mother was having her evening treat. Mrs. MacBride's was a very fascinating place, a sort of woman's club-house, with a sprinkling of men to make things merry. Decent, too, as drinking-places go. No dancing girls, but now and then a rather broad joke, and a song that would not appeal to a highly cultivated taste.
There was plenty of gossip, but the hours were not long.
Dil washed up the dishes, dumped the stove-grate, and took the ashes out to the box. Then she swept up the room and set the table, and her day's work was done.
Patsey Muldoon came in with his heartsome laugh.
”O Patsey, they're the loveliest things, all coming up so fresh an'
elegant, as if they grew in the water. Bess is wild about thim;” and Dil's tone was brimful of joy.
They went in and sat on the cot.
”They do seem alive,” declared Bess, with her thin, quivering note of satisfaction. ”I do be talkin' to thim all the time, as if they were folks.”
Patsey laughed down into the large, eager, faded eyes.