Larry buttoned up his square-cut sack coat and looked at his tie in the little glass near the stairway.
“That might be all right,” said he; “but look at the time he—” here he stopped short and then added: “I don’t want to knock. I promised that I wouldn’t and it’s too late to begin now.”
Chapter IV
“When yer flat on yer back, wit’ a doctor as referee an a train’d nurse holdin’ the towel, why it’s up t’ youse, Cull, it’s up t’ youse!”
Chip Nolan’s Remarks.
A RED-FACED, bare-armed woman opened a door in Murphy’s court and threw a pan of garbage into the gutter. Her next door neighbour was walking up and down the narrow strip of sidewalk, hushing the cry of a weazened baby.
“Is Jamsie not well, Mrs. Burns?” inquired the red-faced woman.
“Sorry the bit, Mrs. Nolan; he’s as cross as two sticks. It’s walk up an’ down the floor wid him I’ve been doin’ all the God’s blessed night. Scure till the wink av slape I’ve had since I opened me two eyes at half after foive yisterday mornin’.”
“Poor sowl! Yez shud git him a rubber ring till cut his teeth on; it’s an illigant t’ing for childer’, I’m towld.”
Contractor McGlory’s stables and cart sheds stood on the opposite side of the court. A young man sat on a feed-box in the doorway polishing a set of light harness; a group of dirty children were playing under an up-tilted cart, and a brace of starving curs fought savagely up the alley over a mouldy bone. Mrs. Nolan called to the young man: