“I will do American way,” I said. Tomaso’s hair rubbed my cheek; I got warm and happy. Only Tomaso and me. Just us in the world.
“And I will do American way,” Tomaso said in my hair. It was dark, but I seen his face, warm like the sunshine. Before I knowed, Tomaso’s lips held mine tight. Sure, it was wicked. Don’t the priest tell you so? But how could I help it? Tomaso was so strong—and we loved together.
“We’ll get married American way,” Tomaso said, soft like. His face was like fur on my face. “I have two hundred dollars from my last job. My father is not a poor man, and I am his only child. Shall it be that way, my sweetheart?”
Sure, there was a big scrap at our shack next day when I runned off with a Wop. But Tomaso and me should worry! We got married American way. I stopped the factory and made my house nice. One month married, and comed my father and mother to see me.
“Ta, like Americanos!” my mother said. But she didn’t laugh with her tongue out. She wanted to be good. I was her first child. My father gived his hand for me to kiss. “Bless my daughter,” he said. Then he gived his hand for Tomaso to kiss, and made tears to run out of his eyes. Then he borrowed ten dollars from Tomaso and everything got all right.
THICKER THAN WATER
By Ralph Henry Barbour and George Randolph Osborne
Doctor Burroughs, summoned from the operating room, greeted his friend from the doorway: “Sorry, Harry, but you’ll have to go on without me. I’ve got a case on the table that I can’t leave. Make my excuses, will you?”
“There’s still an hour,” replied the visitor. “I’m early and can wait.”
“Then come in with me.” Markham followed to the operating room, white-walled, immaculate, odorous of stale ether and antiseptics. On the table lay the sheeted form of a young girl. Only the upper portion of the body was visible, and about the neck wet, red-stained bandages were bound. “A queer case,” said the surgeon. “Brought here from a sweat-shop two hours ago. A stove-pipe fell and gashed an artery in her neck. She’s bleeding to death. Blood’s supposed to be thicker than water, but hers isn’t, poor girl. If it would clot she might pull through. Or I could save her by transfusion, but we can’t find any relatives, and there’s mighty little time.”