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MAGGIE: A GIRL OF THE STREETS.........................................................................................................1

STEPHEN CRANE.................................................................................................................................1

A very little boy stood upon a heap of gravel for the honor of Rum Alley. He was throwing stones at howling

urchins from Devil's Row who were circling madly about the heap and pelting at him.

His infantile countenance was livid with fury. His small body was writhing in the delivery of great, crimson

Howls of renewed wrath went up from Devil's Row throats. Tattered gamins on the right made a furious

assault on the gravel heap. On their small, convulsed faces there shone the grins of true assassins. As they

The little champion of Rum Alley stumbled precipitately down the other side. His coat had been torn to

shreds in a scuffle, and his hat was gone. He had bruises on twenty parts of his body, and blood was dripping

On the ground, children from Devil's Row closed in on their antagonist. He crooked his left arm defensively

about his head and fought with cursing fury. The little boys ran to and fro, dodging, hurling stones and

From a window of an apartment house that upreared its form from amid squat, ignorant stables, there leaned a

curious woman. Some laborers, unloading a scow at a dock at the river, paused for a moment and regarded

the fight. The engineer of a passive tugboat hung lazily to a railing and watched. Over on the Island, a worm

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 dirtstained cheeks. His thin legs had begun to tremble and turn weak, causing his

small body to reel. His roaring curses of the first part of the fight had changed to a blasphemous chatter.

In the yells of the whirling mob of Devil's Row children there were notes of joy like songs of triumphant

savagery. The little boys seemed to leer gloatingly at the blood upon the other child's face.

Down the avenue came boastfully sauntering a lad of sixteen years, although the chronic sneer of an ideal

manhood already sat upon his lips. His hat was tipped with an air of challenge over his eye. Between his

teeth, a cigar stump was tilted at the angle of defiance. He walked with a certain swing of the shoulders which

appalled the timid. He glanced over into the vacant lot in which the little raving boys from Devil's Row

He strode over to the cursing circle, swinging his shoulders in a manner which denoted that he held victory in

his fists. He approached at the back of one of the most deeply engaged of the Devil's Row children.

"Ah, what deh hell," he said, and smote the deeplyengaged one on the back of the head. The little boy fell to

the ground and gave a hoarse, tremendous howl. He scrambled to his feet, and perceiving, evidently, the size

of his assailant, ran quickly off, shouting alarms. The entire Devil's Row party followed him. They came to a

stand a short distance away and yelled taunting oaths at the boy with the chronic sneer. The latter,

"Well, it was dis way, Pete, see! I was goin' teh lick dat Riley kid and dey all pitched on me."

Some Rum Alley children now came forward. The party stood for a moment exchanging vainglorious

remarks with Devil's Row. A few stones were thrown at long distances, and words of challenge passed

between small warriors. Then the Rum Alley contingent turned slowly in the direction of their home street.

They began to give, each to each, distorted versions of the fight. Causes of retreat in particular cases were

magnified. Blows dealt in the fight were enlarged to catapultian power, and stones thrown were alleged to

have hurtled with infinite accuracy. Valor grew strong again, and the little boys began to swear with great

Little Jimmie was striving to stanch the flow of blood from his cut lips. Scowling, he turned upon the

"Ah, where deh hell was yeh when I was doin' all deh fightin?" he demanded. "Youse kids makes me tired."

Jimmie replied with heavy contempt. "Ah, youse can't fight, Blue Billie! I kin lick yeh wid one han'."

"Smash 'im, Jimmie, kick deh damn guts out of 'im," yelled Pete, the lad with the chronic sneer, in tones of

The small combatants pounded and kicked, scratched and tore. They began to weep and their curses struggled

in their throats with sobs. The other little boys clasped their hands and wriggled their legs in excitement.

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

As he neared the spot where the little boys strove, he regarded them listlessly. But suddenly he roared an oath

"Here, you Jim, git up, now, while I belt yer life out, you damned disorderly brat."

He began to kick into the chaotic mass on the ground. The boy Billie felt a heavy boot strike his head. He

made a furious effort and disentangled himself from Jimmie. He tottered away, damning.

Jimmie arose painfully from the ground and confronting his father, began to curse him. His parent kicked

him. "Come home, now," he cried, "an' stop yer jawin', er I'll lam the everlasting head off yehs."

They departed. The man paced placidly along with the applewood emblem of serenity between his teeth. The

boy followed a dozen feet in the rear. He swore luridly, for he felt that it was degradation for one who aimed

to be some vague soldier, or a man of blood with a sort of sublime license, to be taken home by a father.

Eventually they entered into a dark region where, from a careening building, a dozen gruesome doorways

gave up loads of babies to the street and the gutter. A wind of early autumn raised yellow dust from cobbles

and swirled it against an hundred windows. Long streamers of garments fluttered from fireescapes. In all

unhandy places there were buckets, brooms, rags and bottles. In the street infants played or fought with other

infants or sat stupidly in the way of vehicles. Formidable women, with uncombed hair and disordered dress,

gossiped while leaning on railings, or screamed in frantic quarrels. Withered persons, in curious postures of

submission to something, sat smoking pipes in obscure corners. A thousand odors of cooking food came forth

to the street. The building quivered and creaked from the weight of humanity stamping about in its bowels.

A small ragged girl dragged a red, bawling infant along the crowded ways. He was hanging back, babylike,

The little girl cried out: "Ah, Tommie, come ahn. Dere's Jimmie and fader. Don't be apullin' me back."

She jerked the baby's arm impatiently. He fell on his face, roaring. With a second jerk she pulled him to his

feet, and they went on. With the obstinacy of his order, he protested against being dragged in a chosen

direction. He made heroic endeavors to keep on his legs, denounce his sister and consume a bit of orange

As the sulleneyed man, followed by the bloodcovered boy, drew near, the little girl burst into reproachful

The little girl upbraided him, "Youse allus fightin', Jimmie, an' yeh knows it puts mudder out when yehs

As his sister continued her lamentations, he suddenly swore and struck her. The little girl reeled and,

recovering herself, burst into tears and quaveringly cursed him. As she slowly retreated her brother advanced

"Stop that, Jim, d'yeh hear? Leave yer sister alone on the street. It's like I can never beat any sense into yer

The urchin raised his voice in defiance to his parent and continued his attacks. The babe bawled

tremendously, protesting with great violence. During his sister's hasty manoeuvres, he was dragged by the

Finally the procession plunged into one of the gruesome doorways. They crawled up dark stairways and

along cold, gloomy halls. At last the father pushed open a door and they entered a lighted room in which a

She stopped in a career from a seething stove to a pancovered table. As the father and children filed in she

"Eh, what? Been fightin' agin, by Gawd!" She threw herself upon Jimmie. The urchin tried to dart behind the

others and in the scuffle the babe, Tommie, was knocked down. He protested with his usual vehemence,

The mother's massive shoulders heaved with anger. Grasping the urchin by the neck and shoulder she shook

him until he rattled. She dragged him to an unholy sink, and, soaking a rag in water, began to scrub his

lacerated face with it. Jimmie screamed in pain and tried to twist his shoulders out of the clasp of the huge

The babe sat on the floor watching the scene, his face in contortions like that of a woman at a tragedy. The

father, with a newlyladened pipe in his mouth, crouched on a backless chair near the stove. Jimmie's cries

"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

The wife put her immense hands on her hips and with a chieftainlike stride approached her husband.

"Ho," she said, with a great grunt of contempt. "An' what in the devil are you stickin' your nose for?"

The babe crawled under the table and, turning, peered out cautiously. The ragged girl retreated and the urchin

The man puffed his pipe calmly and put his great mudded boots on the back part of the stove.

The woman screamed and shook her fists before her husband's eyes. The rough yellow of her face and neck

He puffed imperturbably at his pipe for a time, but finally arose and began to look out at the window into the

"You've been drinkin', Mary," he said. "You'd better let up on the bot', ol' woman, or you'll git done."

They had a lurid altercation, in which they damned each other's souls with frequence.

The babe was staring out from under the table, his small face working in his excitement.

In the quarrel between husband and wife, the woman was victor. The man grabbed his hat and rushed from

the room, apparently determined upon a vengeful drunk. She followed to the door and thundered at him as he

She returned and stirred up the room until her children were bobbing about like bubbles.

"Git outa deh way," she persistently bawled, waving feet with their dishevelled shoes near the heads of her

children. She shrouded herself, puffing and snorting, in a cloud of steam at the stove, and eventually extracted

She flourished it. "Come teh yer suppers, now," she cried with sudden exasperation. "Hurry up, now, er I'll

The children scrambled hastily. With prodigious clatter they arranged themselves at table. The babe sat with

his feet dangling high from a precarious infant chair and gorged his small stomach. Jimmie forced, with

feverish rapidity, the greaseenveloped pieces between his wounded lips. Maggie, with side glances of fear

The mother sat blinking at them. She delivered reproaches, swallowed potatoes and drank from a

yellowbrown bottle. After a time her mood changed and she wept as she carried little Tommie into another

room and laid him to sleep with his fists doubled in an old quilt of faded red and green grandeur. Then she

came and moaned by the stove. She rocked to and fro upon a chair, shedding tears and crooning miserably to

The little girl plodded between the table and the chair with a dishpan on it. She tottered on her small legs

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.

"Good Gawd," she howled. Her eyes glittered on her child with sudden hatred. The fervent red of her face

turned almost to purple. The little boy ran to the halls, shrieking like a monk in an earthquake.

He floundered about in darkness until he found the stairs. He stumbled, panicstricken, to the next floor. An

old woman opened a door. A light behind her threw a flare on the urchin's quivering face.

"Eh, Gawd, child, what is it dis time? Is yer fader beatin' yer mudder, or yer mudder beatin' yer fader?"

Jimmie and the old woman listened long in the hall. Above the muffled roar of conversation, the dismal

wailings of babies at night, the thumping of feet in unseen corridors and rooms, mingled with the sound of

varied hoarse shoutings in the street and the rattling of wheels over cobbles, they heard the screams of the

child and the roars of the mother die away to a feeble moaning and a subdued bass muttering.

The old woman was a gnarled and leathery personage who could don, at will, an expression of great virtue.

She possessed a small musicbox capable of one tune, and a collection of "God bless yehs" pitched in

assorted keys of fervency. Each day she took a position upon the stones of Fifth Avenue, where she crooked

her legs under her and crouched immovable and hideous, like an idol. She received daily a small sum in

pennies. It was contributed, for the most part, by persons who did not make their homes in that vicinity.

Once, when a lady had dropped her purse on the sidewalk, the gnarled woman had grabbed it and smuggled it

with great dexterity beneath her cloak. When she was arrested she had cursed the lady into a partial swoon,

and with her aged limbs, twisted from rheumatism, had almost kicked the stomach out of a huge policeman

whose conduct upon that occasion she referred to when she said: "The police, damn 'em."

"Eh, Jimmie, it's cursed shame," she said. "Go, now, like a dear an' buy me a can, an' if yer mudder raises 'ell

Jimmie took a tendered tinpail and seven pennies and departed. He passed into the side door of a saloon and

went to the bar. Straining up on his toes he raised the pail and pennies as high as his arms would let him. He

saw two hands thrust down and take them. Directly the same hands let down the filled pail and he left.

In front of the gruesome doorway he met a lurching figure. It was his father, swaying about on uncertain legs.

"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.

The man caught his breath and laughed. He hit his son on the head with the empty pail. As it rolled clanging

into the street, Jimmie began to scream and kicked repeatedly at his father's shins.

"Look at deh dirt what yeh done me," he yelled. "Deh ol' woman 'ill be raisin' hell."

He retreated to the middle of the street, but the man did not pursue. He staggered toward the door.

During the evening he had been standing against a bar drinking whiskies and declaring to all comers,

confidentially: "My home reg'lar livin' hell! Damndes' place! Reg'lar hell! Why do I come an' drin' whisk'

Jimmie waited a long time in the street and then crept warily up through the building. He passed with great

caution the door of the gnarled woman, and finally stopped outside his home and listened.

He could hear his mother moving heavily about among the furniture of the room. She was chanting in a

mournful voice, occasionally interjecting bursts of volcanic wrath at the father, who, Jimmie judged, had

"Why deh blazes don' chere try teh keep Jim from fightin'? I'll break her jaw," she suddenly bellowed.

The man mumbled with drunken indifference. "Ah, wha' deh hell. W'a's odds? Wha' makes kick?"

"Because he tears 'is clothes, yeh damn fool," cried the woman in supreme wrath.

The husband seemed to become aroused. "Go teh hell," he thundered fiercely in reply. There was a crash

against the door and something broke into clattering fragments. Jimmie partially suppressed a howl and

darted down the stairway. Below he paused and listened. He heard howls and curses, groans and shrieks,

confusingly in chorus as if a battle were raging. With all was the crash of splintering furniture. The eyes of

Curious faces appeared in doorways, and whispered comments passed to and fro. "Ol' Johnson's raisin' hell

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 doorpanels. He pushed the door open and entered, quaking.

A glow from the fire threw red hues over the bare floor, the cracked and soiled plastering, and the overturned

In the middle of the floor lay his mother asleep. In one corner of the room his father's limp body hung across

The urchin stole forward. He began to shiver in dread of awakening his parents. His mother's great chest was

heaving painfully. Jimmie paused and looked down at her. Her face was inflamed and swollen from drinking.

Her yellow brows shaded eyelids that had brown blue. Her tangled hair tossed in waves over her forehead.

Her mouth was set in the same lines of vindictive hatred that it had, perhaps, borne during the fight. Her bare,

red arms were thrown out above her head in positions of exhaustion, something, mayhap, like those of a sated

The urchin bended over his mother. He was fearful lest she should open her eyes, and the dread within him

was so strong, that he could not forbear to stare, but hung as if fascinated over the woman's grim face.

Suddenly her eyes opened. The urchin found himself looking straight into that expression, which, it would

seem, had the power to change his blood to salt. He howled piercingly and fell backward.

The woman floundered for a moment, tossed her arms about her head as if in combat, and again began to

Jimmie crawled back in the shadows and waited. A noise in the next room had followed his cry at the

discovery that his mother was awake. He grovelled in the gloom, the eyes from out his drawn face riveted

He heard it creak, and then the sound of a small voice came to him. "Jimmie! Jimmie! Are yehs dere?" it

whispered. The urchin started. The thin, white face of his sister looked at him from the doorway of the other

The father had not moved, but lay in the same deathlike sleep. The mother writhed in uneasy slumber, her

chest wheezing as if she were in the agonies of strangulation. Out at the window a florid moon was peering

The small frame of the ragged girl was quivering. Her features were haggard from weeping, and her eyes

gleamed from fear. She grasped the urchin's arm in her little trembling hands and they huddled in a corner.

The eyes of both were drawn, by some force, to stare at the woman's face, for they thought she need only to

They crouched until the ghostmists of dawn appeared at the window, drawing close to the panes, and

The babe, Tommie, died. He went away in a white, insignificant coffin, his small waxen hand clutching a

The inexperienced fibres of the boy's eyes were hardened at an early age. He became a young man of leather.

He lived some red years without laboring. During that time his sneer became chronic. He studied human

nature in the gutter, and found it no worse than he thought he had reason to believe it. He never conceived a

He clad his soul in armor by means of happening hilariously in at a mission church where a man composed

his sermons of "yous." While they got warm at the stove, he told his hearers just where he calculated they

stood with the Lord. Many of the sinners were impatient over the pictured depths of their degradation. They

A reader of words of winddemons might have been able to see the portions of a dialogue pass to and fro

"You are damned," said the preacher. And the reader of sounds might have seen the reply go forth from the

Jimmie and a companion sat in a rear seat and commented upon the things that didn't concern them, with all

the freedom of English gentlemen. When they grew thirsty and went out their minds confused the speaker

Momentarily, Jimmie was sullen with thoughts of a hopeless altitude where grew fruit. His companion said

that if he should ever meet God he would ask for a million dollars and a bottle of beer.

Jimmie's occupation for a long time was to stand on streetcorners and watch the world go by, dreaming

bloodred 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 welldressed men. To him fine raiment was allied to

weakness, and all good coats covered faint hearts. He and his order were kings, to a certain extent, over the

men of untarnished clothes, because these latter dreaded, perhaps, to be either killed or laughed at.

Above all things he despised obvious Christians and ciphers with the chrysanthemums of aristocracy in their

buttonholes. He considered himself above both of these classes. He was afraid of neither the devil nor the

When he had a dollar in his pocket his satisfaction with existence was the greatest thing in the world. So,

eventually, he felt obliged to work. His father died and his mother's years were divided up into periods of

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 downtown streets and learned to breathe maledictory defiance at

the police who occasionally used to climb up, drag him from his perch and beat him.

In the lower part of the city he daily involved himself in hideous tangles. If he and his team chanced to be in

the rear he preserved a demeanor of serenity, crossing his legs and bursting forth into yells when foot

passengers took dangerous dives beneath the noses of his champing horses. He smoked his pipe calmly for he

If in the front and the keytruck of chaos, he entered terrifically into the quarrel that was raging to and fro

among the drivers on their high seats, and sometimes roared oaths and violently got himself arrested.

After a time his sneer grew so that it turned its glare upon all things. He became so sharp that he believed in

nothing. To him the police were always actuated by malignant impulses and the rest of the world was

composed, for the most part, of despicable creatures who were all trying to take advantage of him and with

whom, in defense, he was obliged to quarrel on all possible occasions. He himself occupied a downtrodden

The most complete cases of aggravated idiocy were, to his mind, rampant upon the front platforms of all the

street cars. At first his tongue strove with these beings, but he eventually was superior. He became immured

like an African cow. In him grew a majestic contempt for those strings of street cars that followed him like

He fell into the habit, when starting on a long journey, of fixing his eye on a high and distant object,

commanding his horses to begin, and then going into a sort of a trance of observation. Multitudes of drivers

might howl in his rear, and passengers might load him with opprobrium, he would not awaken until some

blue policeman turned red and began to frenziedly tear bridles and beat the soft noses of the responsible

When he paused to contemplate the attitude of the police toward himself and his fellows, he believed that

they were the only men in the city who had no rights. When driving about, he felt that he was held liable by

the police for anything that might occur in the streets, and was the common prey of all energetic officials. In

revenge, he resolved never to move out of the way of anything, until formidable circumstances, or a much

Footpassengers 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

When they would thrust at, or parry, the noses of his champing horses, making them swing their heads and

move their feet, disturbing a solid dreamy repose, he swore at the men as fools, for he himself could perceive

that Providence had caused it clearly to be written, that he and his team had the unalienable right to stand in

the proper path of the sun chariot, and if they so minded, obstruct its mission or take a wheel off.

And, perhaps, if the goddriver had an ungovernable desire to step down, put up his flamecolored fists and

manfully dispute the right of way, he would have probably been immediately opposed by a scowling mortal

It is possible, perhaps, that this young man would have derided, in an axlewide alley, the approach of a

flying ferry boat. Yet he achieved a respect for a fire engine. As one charged toward his truck, he would drive

fearfully upon a sidewalk, threatening untold people with annihilation. When an engine would strike a mass

of blocked trucks, splitting it into fragments, as a blow annihilates a cake of ice, Jimmie's team could usually

be observed high and safe, with whole wheels, on the sidewalk. The fearful coming of the engine could break

up the most intricate muddle of heavy vehicles at which the police had been swearing for the half of an hour.

A fire engine was enshrined in his heart as an appalling thing that he loved with a distant doglike devotion.

They had been known to overturn streetcars. Those leaping horses, striking sparks from the cobbles in their

forward lunge, were creatures to be ineffably admired. The clang of the gong pierced his breast like a noise of

When Jimmie was a little boy, he began to be arrested. Before he reached a great age, he had a fair record.

He developed too great a tendency to climb down from his truck and fight with other drivers. He had been in

quite a number of miscellaneous fights, and in some general barroom rows that had become known to the

police. Once he had been arrested for assaulting a Chinaman. Two women in different parts of the city, and

entirely unknown to each other, caused him considerable annoyance by breaking forth, simultaneously, at

Nevertheless, he had, on a certain starlit evening, said wonderingly and quite reverently: "Deh moon looks

The girl, Maggie, blossomed in a mud puddle. She grew to be a most rare and wonderful production of a

None of the dirt of Rum Alley seemed to be in her veins. The philosophers upstairs, downstairs and on the

When a child, playing and fighting with gamins in the street, dirt disguised her. Attired in tatters and grime,

There came a time, however, when the young men of the vicinity said: "Dat Johnson goil is a puty good

looker." About this period her brother remarked to her: "Mag, I'll tell yeh dis! See? Yeh've edder got teh go

teh hell or go teh work!" Whereupon she went to work, having the feminine aversion of going to hell.

By a chance, she got a position in an establishment where they made collars and cuffs. She received a stool

and a machine in a room where sat twenty girls of various shades of yellow discontent. She perched on the

stool and treadled at her machine all day, turning out collars, the name of whose brand could be noted for its

irrelevancy to anything in connection with collars. At night she returned home to her mother.

Jimmie grew large enough to take the vague position of head of the family. As incumbent of that office, he

stumbled upstairs late at night, as his father had done before him. He reeled about the room, swearing at his

The mother had gradually arisen to that degree of fame that she could bandy words with her acquaintances

among the policejustices. Courtofficials called her by her first name. When she appeared they pursued a

course which had been theirs for months. They invariably grinned and cried out: "Hello, Mary, you here

again?" Her grey head wagged in many a court. She always besieged the bench with voluble excuses,

explanations, apologies and prayers. Her flaming face and rolling eyes were a sort of familiar sight on the

island. She measured time by means of sprees, and was eternally swollen and dishevelled.

One day the young man, Pete, who as a lad had smitten the Devil's Row urchin in the back of the head and

put to flight the antagonists of his friend, Jimmie, strutted upon the scene. He met Jimmie one day on the

street, promised to take him to a boxing match in Williamsburg, and called for him in the evening.

He sat on a table in the Johnson home and dangled his checked legs with an enticing nonchalance. His hair

was curled down over his forehead in an oiled bang. His rather pugged nose seemed to revolt from contact

with a bristling moustache of short, wirelike hairs. His blue doublebreasted coat, edged with black braid,

buttoned close to a red puff tie, and his patentleather shoes looked like murderfitted weapons.

His mannerisms stamped him as a man who had a correct sense of his personal superiority. There was valor

and contempt for circumstances in the glance of his eye. He waved his hands like a man of the world, who

dismisses religion and philosophy, and says "Fudge." He had certainly seen everything and with each curl of

his lip, he declared that it amounted to nothing. Maggie thought he must be a very elegant and graceful

"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';

Jimmie nodded understandingly. Over his features played an eager desire to state the amount of his valor in a

"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. "Say, I jes' jumped deh bar an' deh way I plunked dat blokie was great. See? Dat's right! In

deh jaw! See? Hully gee, he t'rowed a spittoon true deh front windee. Say, I taut I'd drop dead. But deh boss,

he comes in after an' he says, 'Pete, yehs done jes' right! Yeh've gota keep order an' it's all right.' See? 'It's all

"Dat bloke was a dandy," said Pete, in conclusion, "but he hadn' oughta made no trouble. Dat's what I says

teh dem: 'Don' come in here an' make no trouble,' I says, like dat. 'Don' make no trouble.' See?"

As Jimmie and his friend exchanged tales descriptive of their prowess, Maggie leaned back in the shadow.

Her eyes dwelt wonderingly and rather wistfully upon Pete's face. The broken furniture, grimey walls, and

general disorder and dirt of her home of a sudden appeared before her and began to take a potential aspect.

Pete's aristocratic person looked as if it might soil. She looked keenly at him, occasionally, wondering if he

"Hully gee," said he, "dose mugs can't phase me. Dey knows I kin wipe up deh street wid any t'ree of dem."

When he said, "Ah, what deh hell," his voice was burdened with disdain for the inevitable and contempt for

Maggie perceived that here was the beau ideal of a man. Her dim thoughts were often searching for far away

lands where, as God says, the little hills sing together in the morning. Under the trees of her dreamgardens

"Say, Mag, I'm stuck on yer shape. It's outa sight," he said, parenthetically, with an affable grin.

As he became aware that she was listening closely, he grew still more eloquent in his descriptions of various

"Why," he said, referring to a man with whom he had had a misunderstanding, "dat mug scrapped like a

damn dago. Dat's right. He was dead easy. See? He tau't he was a scrapper. But he foun' out diff'ent! Hully

He walked to and fro in the small room, which seemed then to grow even smaller and unfit to hold his

dignity, the attribute of a supreme warrior. That swing of the shoulders that had frozen the timid when he was

but a lad had increased with his growth and education at the ratio of ten to one. It, combined with the sneer

upon his mouth, told mankind that there was nothing in space which could appall him. Maggie marvelled at

him and surrounded him with greatness. She vaguely tried to calculate the altitude of the pinnacle from which

"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

acrossin' deh street deh chump runned plump inteh me, an' den he turns aroun' an' says, 'Yer insolen' ruffin,'

he says, like dat. 'Oh, gee,' I says, 'oh, gee, go teh hell and git off deh eart',' I says, like dat. See? 'Go teh hell

an' git off deh eart',' like dat. Den deh blokie he got wild. He says I was a contempt'ble scoun'el, er somet'ing

like dat, an' he says I was doom' teh everlastin' pe'dition an' all like dat. 'Gee,' I says, 'gee! Deh hell I am,' I

With Jimmie in his company, Pete departed in a sort of a blaze of glory from the Johnson home. Maggie,

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

Turning, Maggie contemplated the dark, duststained walls, and the scant and crude furniture of her home. A

clock, in a splintered and battered oblong box of varnished wood, she suddenly regarded as an abomination.

She noted that it ticked raspingly. The almost vanished flowers in the carpetpattern, she conceived to be

newly hideous. Some faint attempts she had made with blue ribbon, to freshen the appearance of a dingy

She reflected upon the collar and cuff factory. It began to appear to her mind as a dreary place of endless

grinding. Pete's elegant occupation brought him, no doubt, into contact with people who had money and

manners. it was probable that he had a large acquaintance of pretty girls. He must have great sums of money

To 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

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 slightlycareening

mantel, over the stove, in the kitchen. She studied it with painful anxiety from different points in the room.

She wanted it to look well on Sunday night when, perhaps, Jimmie's friend would come. On Sunday night,

Afterward the girl looked at it with a sense of humiliation. She was now convinced that Pete was superior to

A few evenings later Pete entered with fascinating innovations in his apparel. As she had seen him twice and

he had different suits on each time, Maggie had a dim impression that his wardrobe was prodigiously

"Say, Mag," he said, "put on yer bes' duds Friday night an' I'll take yehs teh deh show. See?"

He spent a few moments in flourishing his clothes and then vanished, without having glanced at the

Over the eternal collars and cuffs in the factory Maggie spent the most of three days in making imaginary

sketches of Pete and his daily environment. She imagined some half dozen women in love with him and

thought he must lean dangerously toward an indefinite one, whom she pictured with great charms of person,

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

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 halfpast six her mother lay asleep amidst the

wreck of chairs and a table. Fragments of various household utensils were scattered about the floor. She had

vented some phase of drunken fury upon the lambrequin. It lay in a bedraggled heap in the corner.

"Hah," she snorted, sitting up suddenly, "where deh hell yeh been? Why deh hell don' yeh come home

When Pete arrived Maggie, in a worn black dress, was waiting for him in the midst of a floor strewn with

wreckage. The curtain at the window had been pulled by a heavy hand and hung by one tack, dangling to and

fro in the draft through the cracks at the sash. The knots of blue ribbons appeared like violated flowers. The

fire in the stove had gone out. The displaced lids and open doors showed heaps of sullen grey ashes. The

remnants of a meal, ghastly, like dead flesh, lay in a corner. Maggie's red mother, stretched on the floor,

An orchestra of yellow silk women and baldheaded men on an elevated stage near the centre of a great

greenhued hall, played a popular waltz. The place was crowded with people grouped about little tables. A

battalion of waiters slid among the throng, carrying trays of beer glasses and making change from the

inexhaustible vaults of their trousers pockets. Little boys, in the costumes of French chefs, paraded up and

down the irregular aisles vending fancy cakes. There was a low rumble of conversation and a subdued

clinking of glasses. Clouds of tobacco smoke rolled and wavered high in air about the dull gilt of the

The vast crowd had an air throughout of having just quitted labor. Men with calloused hands and attired in

garments that showed the wear of an endless trudge for a living, smoked their pipes contentedly and spent

five, ten, or perhaps fifteen cents for beer. There was a mere sprinkling of kidgloved men who smoked

cigars purchased elsewhere. The great body of the crowd was composed of people who showed that all day

they strove with their hands. Quiet Germans, with maybe their wives and two or three children, sat listening

to the music, with the expressions of happy cows. An occasional party of sailors from a warship, their faces

pictures of sturdy health, spent the earlier hours of the evening at the small round tables. Very infrequent

tipsy men, swollen with the value of their opinions, engaged their companions in earnest and confidential

conversation. In the balcony, and here and there below, shone the impassive faces of women. The

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 before, and was very familiar with it. A

He was extremely gracious and attentive. He displayed the consideration of a cultured gentleman who knew

"Say, what deh hell? Bring deh lady a big glass! What deh hell use is dat pony?"

Maggie perceived that Pete brought forth all his elegance and all his knowledge of highclass customs for her

The orchestra of yellow silk women and baldheaded men gave vent to a few bars of anticipatory music and

a girl, in a pink dress with short skirts, galloped upon the stage. She smiled upon the throng as if in

acknowledgment of a warm welcome, and began to walk to and fro, making profuse gesticulations and

singing, in brazen soprano tones, a song, the words of which were inaudible. When she broke into the swift

rattling measures of a chorus some halftipsy 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

Obedient to more anticipatory bars, she reappeared amidst the halfsuppressed cheering of the tipsy men.

The orchestra plunged into dance music and the laces of the dancer fluttered and flew in the glare of gas jets.

She divulged the fact that she was attired in some half dozen skirts. It was patent that any one of them would

have proved adequate for the purpose for which skirts are intended. An occasional man bent forward, intent

upon the pink stockings. Maggie wondered at the splendor of the costume and lost herself in calculations of

The 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 uptown, giving to the Bowery public the phantasies of the aristocratic theatregoing public, at

A ventriloquist followed the dancer. He held two fantastic dolls on his knees. He made them sing mournful

Two girls, on the bills as sisters, came forth and sang a duet that is heard occasionally at concerts given under

church auspices. They supplemented it with a dance which of course can never be seen at concerts given

After the duettists had retired, a woman of debatable age sang a negro melody. The chorus necessitated some

grotesque waddlings supposed to be an imitation of a plantation darkey, under the influence, probably, of

music and the moon. The audience was just enthusiastic enough over it to have her return and sing a

sorrowful lay, whose lines told of a mother's love and a sweetheart who waited and a young man who was

lost at sea under the most harrowing circumstances. From the faces of a score or so in the crowd, the

selfcontained look faded. Many heads were bent forward with eagerness and sympathy. As the last

distressing sentiment of the piece was brought forth, it was greeted by that kind of applause which rings as

As a final effort, the singer rendered some verses which described a vision of Britain being annihilated by

America, and Ireland bursting her bonds. A carefully prepared crisis was reached in the last line of the last

verse, where the singer threw out her arms and cried, "The starspangled banner." Instantly a great cheer

swelled from the throats of the assemblage of the masses. There was a heavy rumble of booted feet thumping

the floor. Eyes gleamed with sudden fire, and calloused hands waved frantically in the air.

After a few moments' rest, the orchestra played crashingly, and a small fat man burst out upon the stage. He

began to roar a song and stamp back and forth before the footlights, wildly waving a glossy silk hat and

throwing leers, or smiles, broadcast. He made his face into fantastic grimaces until he looked like a pictured

devil on a Japanese kite. The crowd laughed gleefully. His short, fat legs were never still a moment. He

shouted and roared and bobbed his shock of red wig until the audience broke out in excited applause.

Pete did not pay much attention to the progress of events upon the stage. He was drinking beer and watching

Her cheeks were blushing with excitement and her eyes were glistening. She drew deep breaths of pleasure.

When the orchestra crashed finally, they jostled their way to the sidewalk with the crowd. Pete took Maggie's

They reached Maggie's home at a late hour and stood for a moment in front of the gruesome doorway.

Maggie darted into the hall, and up the stairs. She turned and smiled at him, then disappeared.

Pete walked slowly down the street. He had something of an astonished expression upon his features. He

As thoughts of Pete came to Maggie's mind, she began to have an intense dislike for all of her dresses.

"What deh hell ails yeh? What makes yeh be allus fixin' and fussin'? Good Gawd," her mother would

She began to note, with more interest, the welldressed women she met on the avenues. She envied elegance

and soft palms. She craved those adornments of person which she saw every day on the street, conceiving

Studying faces, she thought many of the women and girls she chanced to meet, smiled with serenity as

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

She wondered as she regarded some of the grizzled women in the room, mere mechanical contrivances

sewing seams and grinding out, with heads bended over their work, tales of imagined or real girlhood

happiness, past drunks, the baby at home, and unpaid wages. She speculated how long her youth would

She imagined herself, in an exasperating future, as a scrawny woman with an eternal grievance. Too, she

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

Usually he submitted with silent dignity to all which he had to go through, but, at times, he was goaded into

"What deh hell," he demanded once. "Look at all dese little jugs! Hundred jugs in a row! Ten rows in a case

Evenings during the week he took her to see plays in which the brainclutching heroine was rescued from the

palatial home of her guardian, who is cruelly after her bonds, by the hero with the beautiful sentiments. The

latter spent most of his time out at soak in palegreen snow storms, busy with a nickelplated revolver,

Maggie lost herself in sympathy with the wanderers swooning in snow storms beneath happyhued church

windows. And a choir within singing "Joy to the World." To Maggie and the rest of the audience this was

transcendental realism. Joy always within, and they, like the actor, inevitably without. Viewing it, they

The girl thought the arrogance and graniteheartedness 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

Shady persons in the audience revolted from the pictured villainy of the drama. With untiring zeal they hissed

vice and applauded virtue. Unmistakably bad men evinced an apparently sincere admiration for virtue.

The loud gallery was overwhelmingly with the unfortunate and the oppressed. They encouraged the

struggling hero with cries, and jeered the villain, hooting and calling attention to his whiskers. When anybody

died in the palegreen snow storms, the gallery mourned. They sought out the painted misery and hugged it

In the hero's erratic march from poverty in the first act, to wealth and triumph in the final one, in which he

forgives all the enemies that he has left, he was assisted by the gallery, which applauded his generous and

noble sentiments and confounded the speeches of his opponents by making irrelevant but very sharp remarks.

Those actors who were cursed with villainy parts were confronted at every turn by the gallery. If one of them

rendered lines containing the most subtile distinctions between right and wrong, the gallery was immediately

The last act was a triumph for the hero, poor and of the masses, the representative of the audience, over the

villain and the rich man, his pockets stuffed with bonds, his heart packed with tyrannical purposes,

Maggie always departed with raised spirits from the showing places of the melodrama. She rejoiced at the

way in which the poor and virtuous eventually surmounted the wealthy and wicked. The theatre made her

think. She wondered if the culture and refinement she had seen imitated, perhaps grotesquely, by the heroine

on the stage, could be acquired by a girl who lived in a tenement house and worked in a shirt factory.

A group of urchins were intent upon the side door of a saloon. Expectancy gleamed from their eyes. They

The group of urchins burst instantly asunder and its individual fragments were spread in a wide, respectable

half circle about the point of interest. The saloon door opened with a crash, and the figure of a woman

appeared upon the threshold. Her grey hair fell in knotted masses about her shoulders. Her face was

"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'?

The door received a kick of exasperation from within and the woman lurched heavily out on the sidewalk.

The gamins in the halfcircle became violently agitated. They began to dance about and hoot and yell and

The woman made a furious dash at a particularly outrageous cluster of little boys. They laughed delightedly

and scampered off a short distance, calling out over their shoulders to her. She stood tottering on the

"Yeh devil's kids," she howled, shaking red fists. The little boys whooped in glee. As she started up the street

they fell in behind and marched uproariously. Occasionally she wheeled about and made charges on them.

In the frame of a gruesome doorway she stood for a moment cursing them. Her hair straggled, giving her

crimson features a look of insanity. Her great fists quivered as she shook them madly in the air.

The urchins made terrific noises until she turned and disappeared. Then they filed quietly in the way they had

The woman floundered about in the lower hall of the tenement house and finally stumbled up the stairs. On

an upper hall a door was opened and a collection of heads peered curiously out, watching her. With a

wrathful snort the woman confronted the door, but it was slammed hastily in her face and the key was turned.

"Come out in deh hall, Mary Murphy, damn yeh, if yehs want a row. Come ahn, yeh overgrown terrier, come

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.

"Come ahn, deh hull damn gang of yehs, come ahn," she roared at the spectators. An oath or two, catcalls,

jeers and bits of facetious advice were given in reply. Missiles clattered about her feet.

"What deh hell's deh matter wid yeh?" said a voice in the gathered gloom, and Jimmie came forward. He

carried a tin dinnerpail in his hand and under his arm a brown truckman's apron done in a bundle. "What deh

"Come out, all of yehs, come out," his mother was howling. "Come ahn an' I'll stamp her damn brains under

"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

"T'hell wid yehs! An' who deh hell are yehs? I ain't givin' a snap of me fingers fer yehs," she bawled at him.

She turned her huge back in tremendous disdain and climbed the stairs to the next floor.

Jimmie followed, cursing blackly. At the top of the flight he seized his mother's arm and started to drag her

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.

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

The mother slowly gathered herself up from the floor. Her eyes glittered menacingly upon her children.

"Here, now," said Jimmie, "we've had enough of dis. Sit down, an' don' make no trouble."

"Damn yer ol' hide," yelled Jimmie, madly. Maggie shrieked and ran into the other room. To her there came

the sound of a storm of crashes and curses. There was a great final thump and Jimmie's voice cried: "Dere,

damn yeh, stay still." Maggie opened the door now, and went warily out. "Oh, Jimmie."

He was leaning against the wall and swearing. Blood stood upon bruises on his knotty forearms where they

had scraped against the floor or the walls in the scuffle. The mother lay screeching on the floor, the tears

Maggie, standing in the middle of the room, gazed about her. The usual upheaval of the tables and chairs had

taken place. Crockery was strewn broadcast in fragments. The stove had been disturbed on its legs, and now

leaned idiotically to one side. A pail had been upset and water spread in all directions.

The door opened and Pete appeared. He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, Gawd," he observed.

He walked over to Maggie and whispered in her ear. "Ah, what deh hell, Mag? Come ahn and we'll have a

"Teh hell wid him and you," she said, glowering at her daughter in the gloom. Her eyes seemed to burn

balefully. "Yeh've gone teh deh devil, Mag Johnson, yehs knows yehs have gone teh deh devil. Yer a

disgrace teh yer people, damn yeh. An' now, git out an' go ahn wid dat doefaced jude of yours. Go teh hell

"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

At this instant Pete came forward. "Oh, what deh hell, Mag, see," whispered he softly in her ear. "Dis all

blows over. See? Deh ol' woman 'ill be all right in deh mornin'. Come ahn out wid me! We'll have a hell of a

The woman on the floor cursed. Jimmie was intent upon his bruised forearms. The girl cast a glance about

the room filled with a chaotic mass of debris, and at the red, writhing body of her mother.

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

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 cried, coming

close to him and leering. She was trembling with eagerness to tell her tale. "I was by me door las' night when

yer sister and her jude feller came in late, oh, very late. An' she, the dear, she was acryin' as if her heart

would break, she was. It was deh funnies' t'ing I ever saw. An' right out here by me door she asked him did he

love her, did he. An' she was acryin' as if her heart would break, poor t'ing. An' him, I could see by deh way

what he said it dat she had been askin' orften, he says: 'Oh, hell, yes,' he says, says he, 'Oh, hell, yes.'"

Stormclouds swept over Jimmie's face, but he turned from the leathery old woman and plodded on

"Oh, hell, yes," called she after him. She laughed a laugh that was like a prophetic croak. "'Oh, hell, yes,' he

There was no one in at home. The rooms showed that attempts had been made at tidying them. Parts of the

wreckage of the day before had been repaired by an unskilful hand. A chair or two and the table, stood

uncertainly upon legs. The floor had been newly swept. Too, the blue ribbons had been restored to the

curtains, and the lambrequin, with its immense sheaves of yellow wheat and red roses of equal size, had been

returned, in a worn and sorry state, to its position at the mantel. Maggie's jacket and hat were gone from the

Jimmie walked to the window and began to look through the blurred glass. It occurred to him to vaguely

He clutched his hat and sprang toward the door. But it opened and his mother's great form blocked the

Jimmie grunted, and then began to stare out at the window. His mother sat down in a chair, but a moment

later sprang erect and delivered a maddened whirl of oaths. Her son turned to look at her as she reeled and

swayed in the middle of the room, her fierce face convulsed with passion, her blotched arms raised high in

"May Gawd curse her forever," she shrieked. "May she eat nothin' but stones and deh dirt in deh street. May

"She's deh devil's own chil', Jimmie," she whispered. "Ah, who would t'ink such a bad girl could grow up in

our fambly, Jimmie, me son. Many deh hour I've spent in talk wid dat girl an' tol' her if she ever went on deh

streets I'd see her damned. An' after all her bringin' up an' what I tol' her and talked wid her, she goes teh deh

"An' den when dat Sadie MacMallister next door to us was sent teh deh devil by dat feller what worked in

"Ah, dat's annuder story," interrupted the brother. "Of course, dat Sadie was nice an' all datbutseeit

He was trying to formulate a theory that he had always unconsciously held, that all sisters, excepting his own,

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 achasin' 'im he'll fin' out where he's wrong, deh damned duffer. I'll wipe up

In a fury he plunged out of the doorway. As he vanished the mother raised her head and lifted both hands,

In the darkness of the hallway Jimmie discerned a knot of women talking volubly. When he strode by they

"She allus was a bold thing," he heard one of them cry in an eager voice. "Dere wasn't a feller come teh deh

house but she'd try teh mash 'im. My Annie says deh shameless t'ing tried teh ketch her feller, her own feller,

"I could a' tol' yehs dis two years ago," said a woman, in a key of triumph. "Yessir, it was over two years ago

dat I says teh my ol' man, I says, 'Dat Johnson girl ain't straight,' I says. 'Oh, hell,' he says. 'Oh, hell.' 'Dat's all

right,' I says, 'but I know what I knows,' I says, 'an' it 'ill come out later. You wait an' see,' I says, 'you see.'"

"Anybody what had eyes could see dat dere was somethin' wrong wid dat girl. I didn't like her actions."

"Oh, what deh hell," said the friend. "What's deh use! Yeh'll git pulled in! Everybody 'ill be onto it! An' ten

On a corner a glassfronted building shed a yellow glare upon the pavements. The open mouth of a saloon

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 mahoganyappearing

sideboard reached the ceiling. Upon its shelves rested pyramids of shimmering glasses that were never

disturbed. Mirrors set in the face of the sideboard multiplied them. Lemons, oranges and paper napkins,

arranged with mathematical precision, sat among the glasses. Manyhued decanters of liquor perched at

regular intervals on the lower shelves. A nickelplated cash register occupied a position in the exact centre of

the general effect. The elementary senses of it all seemed to be opulence and geometrical accuracy.

Across from the bar a smaller counter held a collection of plates upon which swarmed frayed fragments of

crackers, slices of boiled ham, dishevelled bits of cheese, and pickles swimming in vinegar. An odor of

Pete, in a white jacket, was behind the bar bending expectantly toward a quiet stranger. "A beeh," said the

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

Pete slid a bottle and two glasses along the bar. He bended his head sideways as he assiduously polished

away with a napkin at the gleaming wood. He had a look of watchfulness upon his features.

Jimmie and his companion kept their eyes upon the bartender and conversed loudly in tones of contempt.

"Oh, hell, yes," said the companion, sneering widely. "He's great, he is. Git onto deh mug on deh blokie. Dat's

The quiet stranger moved himself and his glass a trifle further away and maintained an attitude of oblivion.

"Hey," cried Jimmie, in tones of command. Pete came along slowly, with a sullen dropping of the under lip.

As Pete confronted them with the bottle and the glasses, they laughed in his face. Jimmie's companion,

evidently overcome with merriment, pointed a grimy forefinger in Pete's direction.

"Damned if I knows," replied Jimmie. They laughed loudly. Pete put down a bottle with a bang and turned a

formidable face toward them. He disclosed his teeth and his shoulders heaved restlessly.

"You fellers can't guy me," he said. "Drink yer stuff an' git out an' don' make no trouble."

Instantly the laughter faded from the faces of the two men and expressions of offended dignity immediately

"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'

Jimmie suddenly leaned forward with his head on one side. He snarled like a wild animal.

"Don' pick me up fer no tenderfoot. When yeh tackles me yeh tackles one of deh bes' men in deh city. See?

Pete made a furious gesture. "Git outa here now, an' don' make no trouble. See? Youse fellers er lookin' fer a

scrap an' it's damn likely yeh'll fin' one if yeh keeps on shootin' off yer mout's. I know yehs! See? I kin lick

better men dan yehs ever saw in yer lifes. Dat's right! See? Don' pick me up fer no stuff er yeh might be jolted

out in deh street before yeh knows where yeh is. When I comes from behind dis bar, I t'rows yehs bote inteh

He came through a passage at the end of the bar and swelled down upon the two men. They stepped promptly

They bristled like three roosters. They moved their heads pugnaciously and kept their shoulders braced. The

Pete stepped warily back, waving his hands before him to keep the men from coming too near.

"Well, what deh hell yer goin' teh do?" repeated Jimmie's ally. They kept close to him, taunting and leering.

In a small, tossing group, the three men edged for positions like frigates contemplating battle.

"Well, why deh hell don' yeh try teh t'row us out?" cried Jimmie and his ally with copious sneers.

The bravery of bulldogs sat upon the faces of the men. Their clenched fists moved like eager weapons.

The allied two jostled the bartender's elbows, glaring at him with feverish eyes and forcing him toward the

Suddenly Pete swore redly. The flash of action gleamed from his eyes. He threw back his arm and aimed a

tremendous, lightninglike 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, Bowerylike, with the quickness of a cat. The fierce, answering

The arms of the combatants whirled in the air like flails. The faces of the men, at first flushed to

flamecolored anger, now began to fade to the pallor of warriors in the blood and heat of a battle. Their lips

curled back and stretched tightly over the gums in ghoullike grins. Through their white, gripped teeth

struggled hoarse whisperings of oaths. Their eyes glittered with murderous fire.

Each head was huddled between its owner's shoulders, and arms were swinging with marvelous rapidity. Feet

scraped to and fro with a loud scratching sound upon the sanded floor. Blows left crimson blotches upon pale

skin. The curses of the first quarter minute of the fight died away. The breaths of the fighters came

wheezingly from their lips and the three chests were straining and heaving. Pete at intervals gave vent to low,

labored hisses, that sounded like a desire to kill. Jimmie's ally gibbered at times like a wounded maniac.

Jimmie was silent, fighting with the face of a sacrificial priest. The rage of fear shone in all their eyes and

At a tottering moment a blow from Pete's hand struck the ally and he crashed to the floor. He wriggled

instantly to his feet and grasping the quiet stranger's beer glass from the bar, hurled it at Pete's head.

High on the wall it burst like a bomb, shivering fragments flying in all directions. Then missiles came to

every man's hand. The place had heretofore appeared free of things to throw, but suddenly glass and bottles

went singing through the air. They were thrown point blank at bobbing heads. The pyramid of shimmering

glasses, that had never been disturbed, changed to cascades as heavy bottles were flung into them. Mirrors

The three frothing creatures on the floor buried themselves in a frenzy for blood. There followed in the wake

The quiet stranger had sprawled very pyrotechnically out on the sidewalk. A laugh ran up and down the

People heard the sound of breaking glass and shuffling feet within the saloon and came running. A small

group, bending down to look under the bamboo doors, watching the fall of glass, and three pairs of violent

A policeman came charging down the sidewalk and bounced through the doors into the saloon. The crowd

Jimmie caught first sight of the oncoming interruption. On his feet he had the same regard for a policeman

that, when on his truck, he had for a fire engine. He howled and ran for the side door.

The officer made a terrific advance, club in hand. One comprehensive sweep of the long night stick threw the

ally to the floor and forced Pete to a corner. With his disengaged hand he made a furious effort at Jimmie's

Jimmie, with his face drenched in blood, escaped up a side street, pursued a short distance by some of the

Later, from a corner safely dark, he saw the policeman, the ally and the bartender emerge from the saloon.

Pete locked the doors and then followed up the avenue in the rear of the crowdencompassed policeman and

On first thoughts Jimmie, with his heart throbbing at battle heat, started to go desperately to the rescue of his

In a hall of irregular shape sat Pete and Maggie drinking beer. A submissive orchestra dictated to by a

spectacled man with frowsy hair and a dress suit, industriously followed the bobs of his head and the waves

of his baton. A ballad singer, in a dress of flaming scarlet, sang in the inevitable voice of brass. When she

vanished, men seated at the tables near the front applauded loudly, pounding the polished wood with their

beer glasses. She returned attired in less gown, and sang again. She received another enthusiastic encore. She

reappeared in still less gown and danced. The deafening rumble of glasses and clapping of hands that

followed her exit indicated an overwhelming desire to have her come on for the fourth time, but the curiosity

Maggie was pale. From her eyes had been plucked all look of selfreliance. She leaned with a dependent air

toward her companion. She was timid, as if fearing his anger or displeasure. She seemed to beseech

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

With Maggie gazing at him wonderingly, he took pride in commanding the waiters who were, however,

"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 strawcolored wig who upon the stage was

At times Maggie told Pete long confidential tales of her former home life, dwelling upon the escapades of the

other members of the family and the difficulties she had to combat in order to obtain a degree of comfort. He

responded in tones of philanthropy. He pressed her arm with an air of reassuring proprietorship.

The sound of the music which, by the efforts of the frowsyheaded leader, drifted to her ears through the

smokefilled atmosphere, made the girl dream. She thought of her former Rum Alley environment and

turned to regard Pete's strong protecting fists. She thought of the collar and cuff manufactory and the eternal

moan of the proprietor: "What een hell do you sink I pie fife dolla a week for? Play? No, py damn." She

contemplated Pete's mansubduing eyes and noted that wealth and prosperity was indicated by his clothes.

She imagined a future, rosetinted, because of its distance from all that she previously had experienced.

As to the present she perceived only vague reasons to be miserable. Her life was Pete's and she considered

him worthy of the charge. She would be disturbed by no particular apprehensions, so long as Pete adored her

as he now said he did. She did not feel like a bad woman. To her knowledge she had never seen any better.

At times men at other tables regarded the girl furtively. Pete, aware of it, nodded at her and grinned. He felt

"Mag, yer a bloomin' goodlooker," he remarked, studying her face through the haze. The men made Maggie

fear, but she blushed at Pete's words as it became apparent to her that she was the apple of his eye.

Greyheaded men, wonderfully pathetic in their dissipation, stared at her through clouds. Smoothcheeked

boys, some of them with faces of stone and mouths of sin, not nearly so pathetic as the grey heads, tried to

find the girl's eyes in the smoke wreaths. Maggie considered she was not what they thought her. She confined

The orchestra played negro melodies and a versatile drummer pounded, whacked, clattered and scratched on

Those glances of the men, shot at Maggie from under halfclosed lids, made her tremble. She thought them

As they went out Maggie perceived two women seated at a table with some men. They were painted and their

cheeks had lost their roundness. As she passed them the girl, with a shrinking movement, drew back her

Jimmie did not return home for a number of days after the fight with Pete in the saloon. When he did, he

He found his mother raving. Maggie had not returned home. The parent continually wondered how her

daughter could come to such a pass. She had never considered Maggie as a pearl dropped unstained into Rum

Alley from Heaven, but she could not conceive how it was possible for her daughter to fall so low as to bring

disgrace upon her family. She was terrific in denunciation of the girl's wickedness.

The fact that the neighbors talked of it, maddened her. When women came in, and in the course of their

conversation casually asked, "Where's Maggie dese days?" the mother shook her fuzzy head at them and

appalled them with curses. Cunning hints inviting confidence she rebuffed with violence.

"An' wid all deh bringin' up she had, how could she?" moaningly she asked of her son. "Wid all deh talkin'

wid her I did an' deh t'ings I tol' her to remember? When a girl is bringed up deh way I bringed up Maggie,

Jimmie was transfixed by these questions. He could not conceive how under the circumstances his mother's

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."

"We lived in deh same house wid her an' I brought her up an' we never knowed how bad she was."

"Wid a home like dis an' a mudder like me, she went teh deh bad," cried the mother, raising her eyes.

One day, Jimmie came home, sat down in a chair and began to wriggle about with a new and strange

"Well, lookahere, dis t'ing queers us! See? We're queered! An' maybe it 'ud be better if Iwell, I t'ink I

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 mudderteh 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 mudderyer

"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,

His mother laughed a laugh that seemed to ring through the city and be echoed and reechoed by countless

"Well, yeh must take me fer a damn fool," said Jimmie, indignant at his mother for mocking him. "I didn't say

we'd make 'er inteh a little tin angel, ner nottin', but deh way it is now she can queer us! Don' che see?"

"Aye, she'll git tired of deh life atter a while an' den she'll wanna be acomin' home, won' she, deh beast! I'll

"It wasn't no prod'gal dauter, yeh damn fool," said the mother. "It was prod'gal son, anyhow."

For a time they sat in silence. The mother's eyes gloated on a scene her imagination could call before her. Her

"Aye, she'll cry, won' she, an' carry on, an' tell how Pete, or some odder feller, beats 'er an' she'll say she's

sorry an' all dat an' she ain't happy, she ain't, an' she wants to come home agin, she does."

With grim humor, the mother imitated the possible wailing notes of the daughter's voice.

"Den I'll take 'er in, won't I, deh beast. She kin cry 'er two eyes out on deh stones of deh street before I'll dirty

deh place wid her. She abused an' illtreated her own mudderher own mudder what loved her an' she'll

Jimmie thought he had a great idea of women's frailty, but he could not understand why any of his kin should

Again he wondered vaguely if some of the women of his acquaintance had brothers. Nevertheless, his mind

did not for an instant confuse himself with those brothers nor his sister with theirs. After the mother had, with

great difficulty, suppressed the neighbors, she went among them and proclaimed her grief. "May Gawd

forgive dat girl," was her continual cry. To attentive ears she recited the whole length and breadth of her

"I bringed 'er up deh way a dauter oughta be bringed up an' dis is how she served me! She went teh deh devil

When arrested for drunkenness she used the story of her daughter's downfall with telling effect upon the

police justices. Finally one of them said to her, peering down over his spectacles: "Mary, the records of this

and other courts show that you are the mother of fortytwo daughters who have been ruined. The case is

The mother went through life shedding large tears of sorrow. Her red face was a picture of agony.

Of course Jimmie publicly damned his sister that he might appear on a higher social plane. But, arguing with

himself, stumbling about in ways that he knew not, he, once, almost came to a conclusion that his sister

would have been more firmly good had she better known why. However, he felt that he could not hold such a

In a hilarious hall there were twentyeight 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 fro, swooping down like hawks on the unwary in the

throng; clattering along the aisles with trays covered with glasses; stumbling over women's skirts and

charging two prices for everything but beer, all with a swiftness that blurred the view of the cocoanut palms

and dusty monstrosities painted upon the walls of the room. A bouncer, with an immense load of business

upon his hands, plunged about in the crowd, dragging bashful strangers to prominent chairs, ordering waiters

here and there and quarreling furiously with men who wanted to sing with the orchestra.

The usual smoke cloud was present, but so dense that heads and arms seemed entangled in it. The rumble of

conversation was replaced by a roar. Plenteous oaths heaved through the air. The room rang with the shrill

voices of women bubbling o'er with drinklaughter. The chief element in the music of the orchestra was

speed. The musicians played in intent fury. A woman was singing and smiling upon the stage, but no one

took notice of her. The rate at which the piano, cornet and violins were going, seemed to impart wildness to

the halfdrunken 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

Three weeks had passed since the girl had left home. The air of spaniellike dependence had been magnified

and showed its direct effect in the peculiar offhandedness and ease of Pete's ways toward her.

She followed Pete's eyes with hers, anticipating with smiles gracious looks from him.

A woman of brilliance and audacity, accompanied by a mere boy, came into the place and took seats near

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 wellshaped 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

"Sit down, and call your ladyfriend over," she said cordially to Pete. At his beckoning Maggie came and sat

"I thought yeh were gone away fer good," began Pete, at once. "When did yeh git back? How did dat Buff'lo

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Well, he didn't have as many stamps as he tried to make out, so I shook

"Well, I'm glad teh see yehs back in deh city," said Pete, with awkward gallantry.

He and the woman entered into a long conversation, exchanging reminiscences of days together. Maggie sat

still, unable to formulate an intelligent sentence upon the conversation and painfully aware of it.

She saw Pete's eyes sparkle as he gazed upon the handsome stranger. He listened smilingly to all she said.

The woman was familiar with all his affairs, asked him about mutual friends, and knew the amount of his

She paid no attention to Maggie, looking toward her once or twice and apparently seeing the wall beyond.

The mere boy was sulky. In the beginning he had welcomed with acclamations the additions.

"Let's all have a drink! What'll you take, Nell? And you, Miss what'syourname. Have a drink, Mr. ,

He had shown a sprightly desire to do the talking for the company and tell all about his family. In a loud

voice he declaimed on various topics. He assumed a patronizing air toward Pete. As Maggie was silent, he

paid no attention to her. He made a great show of lavishing wealth upon the woman of brilliance and

"Do keep still, Freddie! You gibber like an ape, dear," said the woman to him. She turned away and devoted

"Say," whispered she, leaning forward, "let's go over to Billie's and have a heluva time."

"All right," said she, nodding her head at him. "All right for you! We'll see the next time you ask me to go

"Oh, that's all right, you needn't explain, you know. You wouldn't come merely because you wouldn't come,

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.

"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

"Why, I don't see why I should be interested in your explanations," said the woman, with a coldness that

The mere boy interrupted his loving smile and turned a shrivelling glare upon Pete. His boyish countenance

"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,

"Why, you dear boy, of course I'm not," cried the woman, affectionately. She bended over and whispered in

his ear. He smiled again and settled in his chair as if resolved to wait patiently.

As the woman walked down between the rows of tables, Pete was at her shoulder talking earnestly,

apparently in explanation. The woman waved her hands with studied airs of indifference. The doors swung

Maggie was dazed. She could dimly perceive that something stupendous had happened. She wondered why

Pete saw fit to remonstrate with the woman, pleading for forgiveness with his eyes. She thought she noted an

The mere boy occupied himself with cocktails and a cigar. He was tranquilly silent for half an hour. Then he

"Well," he said, sighing, "I knew this was the way it would be." There was another stillness. The mere boy

"She was pulling m'leg. That's the whole amount of it," he said, suddenly. "It's a bloomin' shame the way that

girl does. Why, I've spent over two dollars in drinks tonight. And she goes off with that plugugly who

looks as if he had been hit in the face with a coindie. I call it rocky treatment for a fellah like me. Here,

Maggie made no reply. She was watching the doors. "It's a mean piece of business," complained the mere

boy. He explained to her how amazing it was that anybody should treat him in such a manner. "But I'll get

square with her, you bet. She won't get far ahead of yours truly, you know," he added, winking. "I'll tell her

plainly that it was bloomin' mean business. And she won't come it over me with any of her

'nowFreddiedears.' She thinks my name is Freddie, you know, but of course it ain't. I always tell these

people some name like that, because if they got onto your right name they might use it sometime.

Maggie was paying no attention, being intent upon the doors. The mere boy relapsed into a period of gloom,

during which he exterminated a number of cocktails with a determined air, as if replying defiantly to fate.

He occasionally broke forth into sentences composed of invectives joined together in a long string.

The girl was still staring at the doors. After a time the mere boy began to see cobwebs just in front of his

nose. He spurred himself into being agreeable and insisted upon her having a charlotterusse and a glass of

"They's gone," he remarked, "they's gone." He looked at her through the smoke wreaths. "Shay, lil' girl, we

mightish well make bes' of it. You ain't such badlookin' girl, y'know. Not half bad. Can't come up to Nell,

though. No, can't do it! Well, I should shay not! Nell finelookin' girl! Finine. You look damn bad

longsider her, but by y'self ain't so bad. Have to do anyhow. Nell gone. On'y you left. Not half bad, though."

"Eh? What? Home," he cried, struck with amazement. "I beg pardon, did hear say home?"

In a semicomatose state he conducted her on board an uptown car, ostentatiously paid her fare, leered

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

The pace of the forlorn woman was slow. She was apparently searching for some one. She loitered near the

doors of saloons and watched men emerge from them. She scanned furtively the faces in the rushing stream

of pedestrians. Hurrying men, bent on catching some boat or train, jostled her elbows, failing to notice her,

The forlorn woman had a peculiar face. Her smile was no smile. But when in repose her features had a

shadowy look that was like a sardonic grin, as if some one had sketched with cruel forefinger indelible lines

Jimmie came strolling up the avenue. The woman encountered him with an aggrieved air.

"Ah, don't bodder me! Good Gawd!" he said, with the savageness of a man whose life is pestered.

The woman followed him along the sidewalk in somewhat the manner of a suppliant.

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

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

When he arrived home he found his mother clamoring. Maggie had returned. She stood shivering beneath the

"Lookut her, Jimmie, lookut her. Dere's yer sister, boy. Dere's yer sister. Lookut her! Lookut her!"

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

"Ha, ha, ha," bellowed the mother. "Dere she stands! Ain' she purty? Lookut her! Ain' she sweet, deh beast?

She lurched forward and put her red and seamed hands upon her daughter's face. She bent down and peered

"Oh, she's jes' dessame as she ever was, ain' she? She's her mudder's purty darlin' yit, ain' she? Lookut her,

The loud, tremendous sneering of the mother brought the denizens of the Rum Alley tenement to their doors.

Through the open door curious eyes stared in at Maggie. Children ventured into the room and ogled her, as if

they formed the front row at a theatre. Women, without, bended toward each other and whispered, nodding

their heads with airs of profound philosophy. A baby, overcome with curiosity concerning this object at

which all were looking, sidled forward and touched her dress, cautiously, as if investigating a redhot stove.

Its mother's voice rang out like a warning trumpet. She rushed forward and grabbed her child, casting a

Maggie's mother paced to and fro, addressing the doorful of eyes, expounding like a glib showman at a

"Dere she stands," she cried, wheeling suddenly and pointing with dramatic finger. "Dere she stands! Lookut

her! Ain' she a dindy? An' she was so good as to come home teh her mudder, she was! Ain' she a beaut'? Ain'

"Well, now, yer a hell of a t'ing, ain' yeh?" he said, his lips curling in scorn. Radiant virtue sat upon his brow

The crowd at the door fell back precipitately. A baby falling down in front of the door, wrenched a scream

like a wounded animal from its mother. Another woman sprang forward and picked it up, with a chivalrous

As the girl passed down through the hall, she went before open doors framing more eyes strangely

microscopic, and sending broad beams of inquisitive light into the darkness of her path. On the second floor

"So," she cried, "'ere yehs are back again, are yehs? An' dey've kicked yehs out? Well, come in an' stay wid

From above came an unceasing babble of tongues, over 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 again, he

would have believed the mother and brother, who were pyrotechnic over the affair, to be responsible for it.

Besides, in his world, souls did not insist upon being able to smile. "What deh hell?"

He felt a trifle entangled. It distressed him. Revelations and scenes might bring upon him the wrath of the

"What deh hell do dey wanna raise such a smoke about it fer?" demanded he of himself, disgusted with the

attitude of the family. He saw no necessity for anyone's losing their equilibrium merely because their sister or

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

"A little pale thing with no spirit," she said. "Did you note the expression of her eyes? There was something

in them about pumpkin pie and virtue. That is a peculiar way the left corner of her mouth has of twitching,

Pete asserted at once that he never was very much interested in the girl. The woman interrupted him,

"Oh, it's not of the slightest consequence to me, my dear young man. You needn't draw maps for my benefit.

But Pete continued with his explanations. If he was laughed at for his tastes in women, he felt obliged to say

The morning after Maggie had departed from home, Pete stood behind the bar. He was immaculate in white

jacket and apron and his hair was plastered over his brow with infinite correctness. No customers were in the

place. Pete was twisting his napkined fist slowly in a beer glass, softly whistling to himself and occasionally

holding the object of his attention between his eyes and a few weak beams of sunlight that had found their

With lingering thoughts of the woman of brilliance and audacity, the bartender raised his head and stared

through the varying cracks between the swaying bamboo doors. Suddenly the whistling pucker faded from

his lips. He saw Maggie walking slowly past. He gave a great start, fearing for the previouslymentioned

He threw a swift, nervous glance about him, all at once feeling guilty. No one was in the room.

He went hastily over to the side door. Opening it and looking out, he perceived Maggie standing, as if

As she turned her face toward him Pete beckoned to her hurriedly, intent upon returning with speed to a

position behind the bar and to the atmosphere of respectability upon which the proprietor insisted.

Maggie came to him, the anxious look disappearing from her face and a smile wreathing her lips.

"Oh, my Gawd," cried he, vehemently. "What deh hell do yeh wanna hang aroun' here fer? Do yeh wanna git

Pete glanced profound irritation. His countenance reddened with the anger of a man whose respectability is

"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?

The girl seemed to have a struggle with herself. She was apparently bewildered and could not find speech.

The question exasperated Pete beyond the powers of endurance. It was a direct attempt to give him some

responsibility in a matter that did not concern him. In his indignation he volunteered information.

"Oh, go teh hell," cried he. He slammed the door furiously and returned, with an air of relief, to his

She wandered aimlessly for several blocks. She stopped once and asked aloud a question of herself: "Who?"

A man who was passing near her shoulder, humorously took the questioning word as intended for him.

"Eh? What? Who? Nobody! I didn't say anything," he laughingly said, and continued his way.

Soon the girl discovered that if she walked with such apparent aimlessness, some men looked at her with

calculating eyes. She quickened her step, frightened. As a protection, she adopted a demeanor of intentness as

After a time she left rattling avenues and passed between rows of houses with sternness and stolidity stamped

Suddenly she came upon a stout gentleman in a silk hat and a chaste black coat, whose decorous row of

buttons reached from his chin to his knees. The girl had heard of the Grace of God and she decided to

His beaming, chubby face was a picture of benevolence and kindheartedness. His eyes shone goodwill.

But as the girl timidly accosted him, he gave a convulsive movement and saved his respectability by a

vigorous sidestep. He did not risk it to save a soul. For how was he to know that there was a soul before him

Upon a wet evening, several months after the last chapter, two interminable rows of cars, pulled by slipping

horses, jangled along a prominent sidestreet. A dozen cabs, with coatenshrouded drivers, clattered to and

fro. Electric lights, whirring softly, shed a blurred radiance. A flower dealer, his feet tapping impatiently, his

nose and his wares glistening with raindrops, stood behind an array of roses and chrysanthemums. Two or

three theatres emptied a crowd upon the stormswept pavements. Men pulled their hats over their eyebrows

and raised their collars to their ears. Women shrugged impatient shoulders in their warm cloaks and stopped

to arrange their skirts for a walk through the storm. People having been comparatively silent for two hours

burst into a roar of conversation, their hearts still kindling from the glowings of the stage.

The pavements became tossing seas of umbrellas. Men stepped forth to hail cabs or cars, raising their fingers

in varied forms of polite request or imperative demand. An endless procession wended toward elevated

stations. An atmosphere of pleasure and prosperity seemed to hang over the throng, born, perhaps, of good

In the mingled light and gloom of an adjacent park, a handful of wet wanderers, in attitudes of chronic

A girl of the painted cohorts of the city went along the street. She threw changing glances at men who passed

her, giving smiling invitations to men of rural or untaught pattern and usually seeming sedately unconscious

Crossing glittering avenues, she went into the throng emerging from the places of forgetfulness. She hurried

forward through the crowd as if intent upon reaching a distant home, bending forward in her handsome cloak,

daintily lifting her skirts and picking for her wellshod feet the dryer spots upon the pavements.

The restless doors of saloons, clashing to and fro, disclosed animated rows of men before bars and hurrying

A concert hall gave to the street faint sounds of swift, machinelike music, as if a group of phantom

A tall young man, smoking a cigarette with a sublime air, strolled near the girl. He had on evening dress, a

moustache, a chrysanthemum, and a look of ennui, all of which he kept carefully under his eye. Seeing the

girl walk on as if such a young man as he was not in existence, he looked back transfixed with interest. He

stared glassily for a moment, but gave a slight convulsive start when he discerned that she was neither new,

Parisian, nor theatrical. He wheeled about hastily and turned his stare into the air, like a sailor with a

A stout gentleman, with pompous and philanthropic whiskers, went stolidly by, the broad of his back

A belated man in business clothes, and in haste to catch a car, bounced against her shoulder. "Hi, there, Mary,

I beg your pardon! Brace up, old girl." He grasped her arm to steady her, and then was away running down

The girl walked on out of the realm of restaurants and saloons. She passed more glittering avenues and went

A young man in light overcoat and derby hat received a glance shot keenly from the eyes of the girl. He

stopped and looked at her, thrusting his hands in his pockets and making a mocking smile curl his lips.

"Come, now, old lady," he said, "you don't mean to tell me that you sized me up for a farmer?"

A laboring man marched along with bundles under his arms. To her remarks, he replied: "It's a fine evenin',

She smiled squarely into the face of a boy who was hurrying by with his hands buried in his overcoat, his

blonde locks bobbing on his youthful temples, and a cheery smile of unconcern upon his lips. He turned his

head and smiled back at her, waving his hands. him. "He's all right! He didn't mean anything! Let it go! He's

The man sat down. He felt a sleepy but strong desire to straighten things out and have a perfect understanding

"Nell, I allus trea's yeh shquare, din' I? Yeh likes me, don' yehs, Nell? I'm goo' f'ler?"

Overwhelmed by a spasm of drunken adoration, he drew two or three bills from his pocket, and, with the

trembling fingers of an offering priest, laid them on the table before the woman.

"Yehs knows, damn it, yehs kin have all got, 'cause I'm stuck on yehs, Nell, damn't, II'm stuck on yehs,

Nellbuy drinkshdamn'twe're havin' heluva timew'en anyone trea's me ri'Idamn't, Nellwe're

The women drank and laughed, not heeding the slumbering man in the corner. Finally he lurched forward and

The woman of brilliance and audacity stayed behind, taking up the bills and stuffing them into a deep,

irregularlyshaped pocket. A guttural snore from the recumbent man caused her to turn and look down at

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

In a partitionedoff section of a saloon sat a man with a half dozen women, gleefully laughing, hovering

about him. The man had arrived at that stage of drunkenness where affection is felt for the universe.

"I'm good f'ler, girls," he said, convincingly. "I'm damn good f'ler. An'body treats me right, I allus trea's zem

The women nodded their heads approvingly. "To be sure," they cried out in hearty chorus. "You're the kind

of a man we like, Pete. You're outa sight! What yeh goin' to buy this time, dear?"

"An't'ing yehs wants, damn it," said the man in an abandonment of good will. His countenance shone with the

true spirit of benevolence. He was in the proper mode of missionaries. He would have fraternized with

obscure Hottentots. And above all, he was overwhelmed in tenderness for his friends, who were all

"An't'ing yehs wants, damn it," repeated he, waving his hands with beneficent recklessness. "I'm good f'ler,

girls, an' if an'body treats me right Ihere," called he through an open door to a waiter, "bring girls drinks,

The waiter glanced in with the disgusted look of the man who serves intoxicants for the man who takes too

much of them. He nodded his head shortly at the order from each individual, and went.

"Damn it," said the man, "we're havin' heluva time. I like you girls! Damn'd if I don't! Yer right sort! See?"

He spoke at length and with feeling, concerning the excellencies of his assembled friends.

"Don' try pull man's leg, but have a heluva time! Das right! Das way teh do! Now, if I sawght yehs tryin'

work me fer drinks, wouldn' buy damn t'ing! But yer right sort, damn it! Yehs know how ter treat a f'ler, an' I

stays by yehs 'til spen' las' cent! Das right! I'm good f'ler an' I knows when an'body treats me right!"

Between the times of the arrival and departure of the waiter, the man discoursed to the women on the tender

regard he felt for all living things. He laid stress upon the purity of his motives in all dealings with men in the

world and spoke of the fervor of his friendship for those who were amiable. Tears welled slowly from his

Once when the waiter was about to depart with an empty tray, the man drew a coin from his pocket and held

"Come, come, now," said the waiter, with the sullen air of a man who is forced into giving advice. "Put yer

"Never you mind, Pete, dear," said a woman of brilliance and audacity, laying her hand with great affection

"Das ri'," cried the man, his face lighting up at the soothing tones of the woman's voice. "Das ri', I'm damn

The man turned appealing eyes to the woman of brilliance and audacity. He felt that if he could be convicted

"Shay, Nell, damn it, I allus trea's yehs shquare, didn' I? I allus been goo' f'ler wi' yehs, ain't I, Nell?"

"Sure you have, Pete," assented the woman. She delivered an oration to her companions. "Yessir, that's a fact.

Pete's a square fellah, he is. He never goes back on a friend. He's the right kind an' we stay by him, don't we,

"Sure," they exclaimed. Looking lovingly at him they raised their glasses and drank his health.

"Girlsh," said the man, beseechingly, "I allus trea's yehs ri', didn' I? I'm goo' f'ler, ain' I, girlsh?"

"That's right," hailed a woman, "that's right. Yer no bloomin' jay! Yer spends yer money like a man. Dat's

"Yessir," he cried, with deep earnestness, as if someone disputed him. "I'm damn goo' f'ler, an' w'en anyone

"Shay," howled he, growing suddenly impatient. As the waiter did not then come, the man swelled with

"Zat f'ler damn fool," cried the man. "He insul' me! I'm ge'man! Can' stan' be insul'! I'm goin' lickim when

"No, no," cried the women, crowding about and trying to subdue him. "He's all right! He didn't mean

The man sat down. He felt a sleepy but strong desire to straighten things out and have a perfect understanding

"Nell, I allus trea's yeh shquare, din' I? Yeh likes me, don' yehs, Nell? I'm goo' f'ler?"

Overwhelmed by a spasm of drunken adoration, he drew two or three bills from his pocket, and, with the

trembling fingers of an offering priest, laid them on the table before the woman.

"Yehs knows, damn it, yehs kin have all got, 'cause I'm stuck on yehs, Nell, damn't, II'm stuck on yehs,

Nellbuy drinksh damn'twe're havin' heluva timew'en anyone trea's me ri'I damn't,

The women drank and laughed, not heeding the slumbering man in the corner. Finally he lurched forward and

The woman of brilliance and audacity stayed behind, taking up the bills and stuffing them into a deep,

irregularlyshaped pocket. A guttural snore from the recumbent man caused her to turn and look down at

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

"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.

The neighbors began to gather in the hall, staring in at the weeping woman as if watching the contortions of a

dying dog. A dozen women entered and lamented with her. Under their busy hands the rooms took on that

Suddenly the door opened and a woman in a black gown rushed in with outstretched arms. "Ah, poor Mary,"

"Ah, what ter'ble affliction is dis," continued she. Her vocabulary was derived from mission churches. "Me

poor Mary, how I feel fer yehs! Ah, what a ter'ble affliction is a disobed'ent chil'."

Her good, motherly face was wet with tears. She trembled in eagerness to express her sympathy. The

mourner sat with bowed head, rocking her body heavily to and fro, and crying out in a high, strained voice

"I kin remember when she weared worsted boots an' her two feets was no bigger dan yer t'umb an' she weared

"Ah, me poor Mary," sobbed the woman in black. With low, coddling cries, she sank on her knees by the

mourner's chair, and put her arms about her. The other women began to groan in different keys.

"Yer poor misguided chil' is gone now, Mary, an' let us hope it's fer deh bes'. Yeh'll fergive her now, Mary,

won't yehs, dear, all her disobed'ence? All her t'ankless behavior to her mudder an' all her badness? She's

The woman in black raised her face and paused. The inevitable sunlight came streaming in at the windows

and shed a ghastly cheerfulness upon the faded hues of the room. Two or three of the spectators were

sniffling, and one was loudly weeping. The mourner arose and staggered into the other room. In a moment

"I kin remember when she used to wear dem," cried she. The women burst anew into cries as if they had all

"Jimmie, boy, go git yer sister! Go git yer sister an' we'll put deh boots on her feets!"

The man swore sullenly. He went over to a corner and slowly began to put on his coat. He took his hat and

"Yeh'll fergive her, Mary! Yeh'll fergive yer bad, bad, chil'! Her life was a curse an' her days were black an'

"She's gone where her sins will be judged," cried the other women, like a choir at a funeral.

"Deh Lord gives and deh Lord takes away," said the woman in black, raising her eyes to the sunbeams.

"Yeh'll fergive her, Mary!" pleaded the woman in black. The mourner essayed to speak but her voice gave

way. She shook her great shoulders frantically, in an agony of grief. Hot tears seemed to scald her quivering