“We wouldn’t come to the help of England, no sir, not after the way they acted in Ireland and in the Revolution and in the Civil War....”
“Joey you’re getting all choked up with that history you’re reading up in the public library every night.... You follow the stock quotations and keep on your toes and dont let em fool you with all this newspaper talk about strikes and upheavals and socialism.... I’d like to see you make good Joey.... Well I guess I’d better be going.”
“Naw stick around awhile, we’ll open a bottle of glue.” They heard a heavy stumbling in the passage outside the kitchen.
“Whossat?”
“Zat you Joe?” A big towheaded boy with lumpy shoulders
and a square red face and thickset neck lurched into the room.
“What the hell do you think this is?... This is my kid brother Mike.”
“Well what about it?” Mike stood swaying with his chin on his chest. His shoulders bulged against the low ceiling of the kitchen.
“Aint he a whale? But for crissake Mike aint I told you not to come home when you was drinkin?... He’s loible to tear the house down.”
“I got to come home sometime aint I? Since you got to be a wardheeler Joey you been pickin on me worsen the old man. I’m glad I aint goin to stay round this goddam town long. It’s enough to drive a feller cookoo. If I can get on some kind of a tub that puts to sea before the Golden Gate by God I’m going to do it.”