A group of ragged urchins stood eager for a chance to seize a valise or parcel, to the relief or disgust of its owner.
“Who wants some flowers?” bethinking herself suddenly of the flower charities.
They thronged round her. She threw the bunch with a light effort just beyond the first noisy ring. A shock-headed lad with a broad, freckled face and laughing blue eyes caught it. Another snatched at it. Thereupon ensued a scrimmage. Blows and tearing of hair were the courtesies exchanged, until a policeman loomed in sight. The first lad was at this moment the victor, and he plunged down the side street with a fleetness known only to the street arab. The majesty of the law distributed cuffs liberally among the vanquished, and the rabble dispersed.
Miss Deering smiled with a touch of sad scorn, nodded to a cabman, and, as she seated herself, watched the fleet but dirty feet vanishing in the distance, recalling the face.
“It’s curious they, too, should quarrel about wild roses,” she said, just under her breath, sighing softly.
Meanwhile Patsey Muldoon ran some ten or twelve squares, then paused for a bit of breath, mopping his face with his ragged shirt sleeve.
“My, ain’t they queer? not stunners exactly, but splendid, if they ain’t red. I d’know as Dil ever see sich a swad in her life. An’ Bess’s blue eyes’ll be like saucers. Oh, golly! how sweet!” burying his face in them. “Sich as these ain’t layin’ loose round Barker’s Court offen. I’ve lost a job mebbe, an’ Casey’ll crow if he gits one; but that ere left-hander wos science, that wos!” and the boy chuckled as he ran on again.
From the Grand Central over to the East Side tenements was no mean stretch, but Patsey would have gone twice as far to give Dilsey Quinn a pleasure.
The street was built up compactly, and swarmed with children. There was an open way between a row of houses, a flagged space called Barker’s Court; a deep strip of ground that had been a puzzle to its owner, until he hit upon a plan for his model tenement row. The four-story houses faced each other, with pulley-lines between, the clothes shutting out air and light. They were planned for the greatest number, if the greatest good had been omitted. One narrow hall and stairway did for two houses, so not much space was lost. But the sights and sounds, the piles of garbage, the vile air emanating from rooms where dirt reigned supreme, and the steam of the wet clothes, were something terrible on a hot summer day. The poor creatures crowded into it were used to it.
Patsey ran down to the middle of the Court, and then scudded up one flight.