“An’ she’s all dressed up fit ter kill—Maggie is,” Katy Goldburg was calling excitedly over her shoulder. Katy, and Tony Valerio had the advantage over the others, for they were down on their knees before the Whalens’ window on a level with the sidewalk. The room inside was almost in darkness, to be sure, for the crowd outside had obscured what little daylight there was left, and there was only the sputtering kerosene lamp on the table for illumination. Even this, however, sufficed to show Katy and Tony wonders that unloosed their tongues and set them to giving copious reports.
“She’s got a white dress on, an’ a hat with posies, an’ shoes an’ stockings,” enumerated Katy.
“An’ de lady’s got di’monds on her—I seen ’em sparkle,” shouted Tony. “An’ de Whalen kids is all fixed up, too,” he added. “An’, say, dey’ve bringed home stuff an’ is showin’ ’em. Gee! look at that sw-word!”
“An’ thar’s cake,” gurgled Katy. “Tony, they’re eatin’ choc’late cake. Say, I am a-goin’ in!”
There was a sudden commotion about the Whalens’ door. An undersized little body was worming its way through the crowd, and thrusting sharp little elbows to the right and to the left. The next minute, Margaret Kendall, standing near the Whalens’ table, felt an imperative tug at her sleeve.
“Hullo! Say, Mag, give us a bite; will ye?”
“Katy! Why, it’s Katy Goldburg,” cried Margaret in joyous recognition. “Mother, here’s Katy.”
The first touch of Margaret’s hand on Katy’s shoulder swept like an electric shock through the waiting throng around the door. It was the signal for a general onslaught. In a moment the Whalen kitchen swarmed with boys, girls, and women, all shouting, all talking at once, and all struggling to reach the beautiful, blue-eyed, golden-haired little girl they had known as “Mag of the Alley.”
Step by step Margaret fell back until she was quite against the wall. Her eyes grew wide and terror-filled, yet she made a brave attempt to smile and to respond politely to the noisy greetings. Across the room Mrs. Kendall struggled to reach her daughter’s side, but the onrushing tide of humanity flung her back and left her helpless and alone.
It was then that Mrs. Whalen’s powerful fist and strident voice came to the rescue. In three minutes the room was cleared, and Margaret was sobbing in her mother’s arms.