II

_Dear Kate_:

I didn't write you before cause I wanted to be able to tell you what we

are going to do about the kid. Jim was up and we talked it all over and

I said I would take him. I don't want none of Jim's friends to have him

cause he ain't no good, Kate, and I have always told you so. I made him

promise if I take Billy that he will leave him alone. I won't have him

hanging around and I don't want Billy to see nothing more of him than he

has to. I blame him for all that has come to you. Before you married him

and got in with his crowd, you was on the level, but--it ain't no use

kicking now, it is all done; only I want him to keep his hands off

Billy. There is a roomer on the floor below that has got a little girl

who will come in and kinda look after Billy when I am out. I can take

him out for a walk every day and perhaps I can get him in one of those

kids' schools for two or three hours in the afternoon.

Jim brought him up at night, and he was all sleepy and soft and warm and

cuddled up to me just like a little kitten. I never noticed before how

pretty he was, but I watched him as he lay there with his red lips half

open and his long black lashes laying on his cheeks and his hair all

curling around his face, and I just could not go to sleep for looking at

him. He is too pale, I think. Seems to me he ought to have more color in

his cheeks. I suppose it is cause he hasn't had enough outdoor exercise

that babies should have. Roomers should not have kids. It don't seem

just right to shut a baby up in four walls when he would like to run and

play outside with other young things. But I am going to do the best I

can by him, so don't you worry, he will be all right.

Jim is pretty sore about you getting pinched, and says he is going to

leave town. The crowd is kinda scared, and I think they are going to

scatter. Irene went to St. Louis the other day, cause she said the cops

are getting too familiar with her face. I told the whole bunch what I

thought of them, and that they had better clear out. Do you remember

Jenny Kerns? She was that little blond that use to clerk in Siegel's

store. She has got the room right next to me, and say, she is awful

sick. I have been setting up nights with her till I am dippy for want of

sleep. I think she is all in. I didn't let her know it, but I have sent

for her mother. I snooped around her place the other night till I found

her mother's address, and I wrote her a letter telling her just how

Jenny was, and that some one orter come and get her. Jenny would kill me

if she knew it, cause she don't want her folks to know what she is

doing, but it seems too bad to have her die here alone in a rotten

little room on 28th Street when she has got a mother, who, no matter

what she has done, would be glad to see her. Say what you will Kate,

girls that have got mothers have a darned sight better chance than

girls like you and me who was brought up on the street, and when she

gets sick and lonely, no matter how tough she has been, if she can reach

out her hand and touch her mother, she can sort of begin over again.

I have been learning a lot of the new dances, and Fred Stillman and me

took the prize the other night for the best hesitation waltz. I am going

to try to get a job dancing in one of the restaurants. I am tired

working like a dog in these cheap theatres, and I know I can dance as

well as any girl on Broadway. A crowd of us blew in the other night at

that big dance hall at 59th Street, and everybody stopped to watch me

and Fred. It kinda makes you feel good to know you can do anything well,

if it is only tangoing, and I do love it! When I get a good partner it

seems to me I hear voices calling, and the music ain't made just by some

niggers in the corner, but it is just something speaking to me and

something inside of me answers and I forget I am in a hall with a lot

of people looking at me, I am just a dancing by myself to the things I

hear. Jim says you have fixed it with a guard so as you can get all the

letters you want. I can't slip you over twenty dollars a month to save

my soul. That orter be able to fix him enough, but if it ain't, let me

know, cause you know Kate, you can have every dollar I make except just

enough to keep the kid a going, if it will make things easier for you.

Get me out a letter whenever you can. Remember I am always thinking of

you.

_Nan_.

Living Up to Billy · 第 4 / 43 题