People Like That: A Novel

by Kate Langley Bosher

"You're looking at me as if I didn't agree with you. Some day I hope there may be deeper understanding of, and better training for, the supreme profession of life; but to get out of generalizations into a concrete case, what can I do in the way of service to Miss Swink and Mr. Thomas Cressy? Being, as I said before, an interested party, I hardly—"

A knock on the door behind him made Selwyn start as if struck; gave evidence of strain and nervousness of which he was unconscious, and, jumping up, he went toward the door and opened it. In the hall Bettina and Jimmy Gibbons were standing. The latter was twisting his cap round and round in his hand, his big, brown eyes looking first at Bettina and then at me and then at Selwyn, but to my "Come in," he paid no attention.

Getting up, I went toward him, put my hand on his shoulder. "What is it, Jimmy? Why don't you come in?"

"My shoes ain't fitten. I wiped them, but the mud wouldn't come off." His eyes looked down on his feet. "I could tell you out here if you wouldn't mind listening."

"I told him I'd take the message or call you down-stairs, but he wouldn't let me do either one." Bettina, hands behind her, nodded in my face. "His mother says her boarder is dying and she wants to tell you something before she dies, and she told Jimmy he must see you himself. Grannie's gone to prayer-meeting with Mrs. Crimm, and afterward to see about a sick person. I'm awful sorry to interrupt you, and if the lady hadn't been dying—"

"You're not interrupting." I drew the boy inside. Bettina came also. From the fire to which I led him, Jimmy drew back, however, and blew upon his stiff little fingers until it was safe to put them closer to the blazing coals. Looking down at his feet, I saw a large and ragged hole on the side of his right shoe from which a tiny bit of blood was slowly oozing upon the rug.

"What's the matter with your foot, Jimmy? Have you cut it, stuck something in it? You must take your shoe off and see what's the matter." I pointed to the floor.

"I didn't know I'd done it." Craning his neck to its fullest extending. Jimmy peered down at the bleeding foot, then looked up at me. "I'm awful sorry it got on the rug. I'll wipe it up in a minute." Imperishable merriment struggled with abashed regret, and, holding out the offending foot, he laughed wistfully. "It ain't got no feeling in it, though it's coming. I guess it's kinder froze. They're regular flip-flops, them shoes are."

Under his breath I heard a smothered exclamation from Selwyn. He was standing in front of the boy, hands in his pockets, and staring at him. He knew, of course, there were countless ill-fed, ill-clothed, unprotected children in every city of every land, but personally he had come in contact with but few of them, and the bit of flesh and blood before him stabbed with sharp realization. Helplessly he turned to me. "The boy's half frozen. Where did he come from? What does he want you to do?"

Jimmy looked up at me. "Mother told me to hurry. The doctor's done gone and Mrs. Cotter says she's bound to see you before she dies. She's got something to tell you. She says please, 'm, come quick."