The Rosie World

"Dan Agin, how dare ye go blastin' the reputation of decent men! There are others like ye, do ye say? There are not! There's not another woman in Ameriky that's stood what I've stood for forty years! Ah, many's the time it was just one black murtherin' look I was cravin' from ye to bear out me story that I had married a man, instead of a joke! And did ever I get it from ye, Dan Agin! I did not – bad cess to ye for a soft-hearted, good-for-nuthin' of a man that'd let a woman thrample ye in the dust if she wanted to! 'Twas yir luck that ye little deserved to marry a decent, quiet woman like meself!"

"Ye're right, Mary!" Danny murmured meekly. "Ye're a fine woman!"

"Hold yir tongue, Dan Agin, or, cripple that ye are, I'll be givin' you the lickin' that I've wanted to give you these forty years every time ye've let me have me own way when I oughtn't have had it!"

Rosie stood up to go. "I have one more paper to deliver, Mis' Agin, so I'll have to say good-bye. If Terry was to know that I stopped to talk before I had delivered all my papers, he'd beat me half to death."

Mrs. Agin smiled on her affectionately. "Good-bye, Rosie dear. And mind, now, if ever again Danny goes talkin' such nonsense, ye're to call me, and I'll soon settle him. Now run along, or that brute of a Terry'll be after you."

"Good-bye, Rosie," Danny called out, in a tone of hypocritical meekness that made Rosie's blood boil anew.

Rosie stopped and turned about to give him the look of scorn that he deserved.

"Danny Agin, you just ought to be ashamed o' yourself the way you treat poor Mis' Agin!"

"I am, Rosie," Danny gasped in a voice of mock tears exasperating beyond words.

CHAPTER XVII

ROSIE PROMISES TO BE GOOD

Rosie hurried away, furious at Danny, and furious also at her own father. Any man who puts his womenfolk to such shame ought to be choked! In spite of certain drawbacks, Janet McFadden's lot was happier than Mrs. Agin's, or than Rosie's own. At least no one ever called into question Dave McFadden's ability to govern his own household. This was so patent to the world at large that Janet could actually go about pretending that her father was a sentimental weakling. Happy, happy Janet!

It made Rosie shudder in self-disgust to think of the many damning admissions that she had made Janet. Well, at any rate, she would never again be caught. She had learned a thing or two since yesterday. Moreover, she would lose no time in setting Janet right. She would stop to see Janet now on her way home. That scar story would make Janet open her eyes! And Rosie would not foolishly situate it on a spot as easy of detection as her mother's right shoulder. Nev-er!

A woman who was sweeping the steps in front of the tenement where the McFaddens lived, made the friendly inquiry: "Lookin' for Janet?"

Rosie nodded.

"Better not go up," the woman advised. "Dave McFadden's just come in soused again."

Rosie paused.

"Is he beating Janet?"

"No, I don't think so. Janet knows pretty well how to take care of herself. Gee, you ought to see her dodge him! She's a wonder! He wouldn't ha' caught her last time if she hadn't slipped."

Rosie started on, and the woman called after her: "I tell you, you better not go up! Dave sure is out lookin' for trouble!"

The warning was a kindly one, but Rosie saw no reason for accepting it. The truth was that, in her present mood of resentment against the Danny Agins and Jamie O'Briens of life, she felt that it would be a relief to see a man who was confessedly out looking for trouble.

The McFaddens lived on the fourth floor back. Their door was open, so Rosie could hear that something was going on as she climbed the third flight of stairs. When she reached the top, her courage faltered. Had the McFadden door been closed, very probably she could not have forced herself to knock; but, as it was open, if she slipped along the dark hall quietly, she could take a peep inside before announcing herself.

"Daddy!" she heard cried out suddenly. It was Janet's voice. "My arm! You're hurting me! Please let go! I'll be good!"

"Arguin' with your own father, eh?" Dave's thick voice boomed and rumbled. "Well, I'll learn you a lesson!"

"But, Daddy," Janet coaxed; "wait a minute! The door's open! Please let me shut it! Some one will hear us! Please let go of me just a minute!"

Then, just as Rosie reached the door, there was a scuffle inside, and Janet must have escaped her father's clutches, for instantly the door slammed. It slammed so nearly into Rosie's face that, with a gasp, she turned and fled. Down the three flights of stairs she ran, past the woman on the front steps without a word, and on to the safety of home as fast as her panting heart could carry her. There, spent and breathless, she murmured to herself:

"Well, anyhow, I'm mighty glad it ain't me, 'cause I can't dodge worth a cent!"

That night after supper, while Rosie was washing dishes, when Jamie O'Brien called: "Rosie dear, like a good child, will ye bring me me pipe and a few matches?" Rosie sang out in tones positively vibrating with feeling: "Yes, Daddy darling, I will! I'll bring them this very minute!"

Later she perched herself on the side of her father's chair, and put an arm about his neck.

"Good old Daddy! Did you have a good run today, dearie?"

Jamie sucked his pipe hard and, after thinking a while, answered: "Pretty good."

"And, Daddy dear, did they take off that car that had a flat wheel?"

This was a question that required considerable deliberation. Rosie waited, and at last had her reward.

"Sure they did."

"Oh, Daddy!" Rosie hugged him suddenly, and kissed his thin, leathery cheek. "I just love you so much! I wouldn't change you for any other father in the world!"

After getting the full purport of this declaration, Jamie remarked: "That's good!"

Rosie slipped impulsively from the arm of the chair into Jamie's lap. It was not a comfortable arrangement for Jamie, but he was a patient soul, and made no outcry.

Rosie snuggled up to him affectionately. "Say, Daddy," she whispered, "if I was awful bad, what would you do to me? Wouldn't you just beat me?"

Jamie relit his pipe, took one puff, examined the sky line, then shook his head knowingly: "I would that! But, Rosie dear, you mustn't be bad, you know."

Rosie took a long, shivery breath. "Oh, Daddy, please don't beat me! I'll be good, honest I will!"

CHAPTER XVIII

ON THE CULTURE OF BABIES

Midsummer came and with it a great suffocating blanket of heat which brought prostration to the world at large and to little Rosie O'Brien a new care and a great anxiety.

"I don't mind about myself," she murmured one breathless sultry morning as she served George Riley his late breakfast. Even George, who paid scant attention to weather, looked worn and pale.

Rosie sat down opposite him as he began eating and stared at him out of eyes that were very sad and very serious.

"It's Geraldine, Jarge. I don't know what I'm going to do. The poor birdie was awake nearly all night. I hope you didn't hear us. I don't want to disturb you, too."

George shook his head. "Oh, I slept all right. I always do. But it was so blamed hot that when I got up I felt weak as a cat." He bolted a knifeful of fried potatoes, then asked: "What's ailing Geraldine? Ain't her food agreeing with her?"

Rosie sighed. It was the sigh of a little mother who had been asking herself that same question over and over. "It's partly that; but I think the food would be all right if only other things were all right. You're a man, Jarge, so you don't understand about babies. It's Geraldine's second summer and she's teething. Her poor little mouth's all swollen and feverish. It would be bad enough in cold weather, but in this heat she hardly gets a wink of sleep… I tell you, Jarge, if we don't do something for her real quick, she's just going to die!" Rosie dropped her head on the table and wept.

"Aw, now, 'tain't that bad, is it, Rosie?"

"Yes." The answer came muffled in tears. "It's just awful, Jarge, the way they go down. They'll be perfectly well, and then before you know what's happening they just wilt, and you can't do anything for them. And if Geraldine dies, I – I want to die too!"