_S.O.S._
Mickey, his responsibility weighing upon him, slept lightly and
awakened early, his first thought of Peaches. He slipped into his
clothing and advancing peered at her through the grayness. His heart
beat wildly.
"Aw you poor kid! You poor little kid!" he whispered to himself as he
had fallen into the habit of doing for company. "The scaring, the
jolting, the scouring, and everything were too much for you. You've
gone sure! You're just like them at the morgue. Aw Peaches! I didn't
mean to hurt you, Peaches! I was _trying_ to be good to you. Honest I
was, Peaches! Aw----!"
As his fright increased Mickey raised his voice until his last wail
reached the consciousness of the sleeping child. She stirred slightly,
her head moving on the pillow. Mickey almost fell, so great was his
relief. He stepped closer, gazing in awe. The sheared hair had dried in
the night, tumbling into a hundred golden ringlets. The tiny clean face
was white, so white that the blue of the closed eyes showed darkly
through the lids, the blue veins streaked the temples and the little
claws lying relaxed on the sheet. Mickey slowly broke up inside. A big,
hard lump grew in his throat. He shut his lips tight and bored the
tears from his eyes with his wiry fists. He began to mutter his
thoughts to regain self-control.
"Gee kid, but you had me scared to the limit!" he said. "I thought you
were gone, sure. Honest I did! Ain't I glad though! But you're the
whitest thing! You're like----I'll tell you what you're like. You're
like the lily flowers in the store windows at Easter. You're white like
them, and your hair is the little bit of gold decorating them. If I'd
known it was like that I wouldn't a-cut it if I'd spent a month
untangling it. Honest I wouldn't, kid! I'm awful sorry! Gee, but it
would a-been pretty spread over mother's pillow."
Mickey gazed, worshipped and rejoiced as he bent lower from time to
time to watch the fluttering breath.
"You're so clean now you just smell good; but I got to go easy. The
dirt covered you so I didn't see how sick you were. You'll go out like
a candle, that's what you'll do. I mustn't let even the wind blow cold
on you. I couldn't stand it if I was to hurt you. I'd just go and lay
down before the cars or jump down an elevator hole. Gee, I'm glad I
found you! I wouldn't trade you for the smartest dog that's being rode
around in the parks. Nor for the parks! Nor the trees! Nor the birds!
Nor the buildings! Nor the swimming places! Nor the automobiles! Nor
nothing! Not nothing you could mention at all! Not eating! Nor seeing!
Nor having! Not no single thing--nothing at all--Lily!
"Lily!" he repeated. "Little snow white lily! Peaches is a good name
for you if you're referring to sweetness, but it doesn't fit for
colour. Least I never saw none white. Lily fits you better. If you'd
been a dog, I was going to name you Partner. But you're mine just as
much as if you was a dog, so I'll name you if I want to. Lily! That's
what God made you; that's what I'm going to call you."
The God thought, evoked by creation, remained in Mickey's heart. He
glanced at the sky clearing from the graying mists of morning, while
the rumble of the streets came up to him in a dull roar.
"O God, I guess I been forgetting my praying some, since mother went.
I'd nothing but myself and I ain't worth bothering You about. But O
God, if You are going to do any _big_ things to-day, why not do some
for Lily? Can't be many that needs it more. If You saw her yesterday,
You must see if You'll look down now, that she's better off, she's
worlds better off. Wonder if You sent me to get her, so she would be
better off. Gee, why didn't You send one of them millyingaires who
could a-dressed her up, fed her and took her to the country where the
sun would shine on her. Ain't never touched her, I bet a liberty-bird.
But if You did the sending, You sent just me, so she's _my_ job, an'
I'll do her! But I wish You'd help me, or send me help, O God. It's an
awful job to tackle all alone, for I'm going to be scared stiff if she
gets sick. I can tell by how I felt when I thought she was gone. So if
You sent me God, it's up to You to help me. Come on now! If You see the
sparrows when they fall, You jest good naturedly ought to see Lily
Peaches, 'cause she's always been down, and she can't ever get up,
unless we can help her. Help me all You can O God, and send me help to
help her all I can, 'cause she can use all the help she can get, and
then some! Amen!"
Mickey took one of Peaches' hands in his.
"I ain't the time now, but to-night I got to cut your nails and clean
them, then I guess you'll do to start on," he said as he squeezed the
hand. "Lily! Lily Peaches, wake up! It's morning now. I got to go out
with the papers to earn supper to-night. Wake up! I must wash you and
feed you 'fore I go."
Peaches opened her eyes, drawing back startled.
"Easy now!" cautioned Mickey. "Easy now! Don't be scared. Nobody can
'get' you here! What you want for breakfast, Flowersy-girl? Little Lily
white."
An adorable smile illumined the tiny face at the first kindly awakening
it ever had known.
"_You_ won't let them 'get' me, will you?" she triumphed.
"You know it!" he answered conclusively. "Now I'll wash your face, cook
your breakfast, and fix you at the window where maybe you can see birds
going across. Think of that, Lily! Birds!"
"My name's Peaches!" said the child.
"So 'tis!" said Mickey. "But since you arrived to such bettered
conditions, you got to be a lady of fashion. Now Peaches, every single
kid in the Park is named _two_ names, these days. Fellow can't have a
foot race for falling over Mary Elizabeths, and Louisa Ellens. I can't
do so much just to start on, 'cause I can't earn the boodle; fast as I
get it, you're going to line up; but nachally, just at starting you
must begin on the things that are not expensive. Now names don't cost
anything, so I can be giving you six if I like, and you are a lily, so
right now I'm naming you Lily, but two's the style; keep your Peaches,
if it suits you. Lily just flies out of my mouth when I look at you."
This was wonderful. No cursing! No beating! No wailing over a lame-back
brat to feed. Mickey _liked_ to give her breakfast! Mickey named her
for the wonderful flower like granny had picked up before a church one
day, a few weeks ago and in a rare sober moment had carried to her.
Mickey had made her feel clean, so rested, and so fresh she wanted to
roll over the bed. With child impulse she put up her arms. Mickey
stooped to them.
"You goin' to have two names too," she said. "You gotter be fash'nable.
I ist love you for everythin', washin', an' breakfast, an' the bed, an'
winder, an' off the floor; oh I just love you _sick_ for the winder,
an' off the floor. You going to be"--she paused in a deep study to
think of a word anywhere nearly adequate, then ended in a burst that
was her best emanation--"lovest! Mickey-lovest!"
She hugged him closely, then lifted her chin and pursed her lips.
Mickey pulled back, a dull colour in his face.
"Now nix on the mushing!" he said. "I'll stand for a hug once a day,
but nix on the smear!"
"You'd let a dog," she whimpered. "I ain't kissed nothin' since granny
sold the doll a lady gave me the time we went to the doctor's, an' took
the money to get drunk on, an' beat me more'n I needed for a change,
'cause I cried for it. I think you might!"
"Aw well, go on then, if you're going to bawl," said Mickey, "but put
it there!"
He stepped as far back as he could, leaned over, and swept the hair
from his forehead, which he brought in range of her lips. He had to
brace himself to keep from flinching at their cold touch and
straightened in relief.
"Now that's over!" he said briskly. "I'll wash you, and get your
breakfast."
"You do a lot of washin', don't you?" inquired Peaches.
"You want the sleep out of your eyes," coaxed Mickey.
He brought the basin and a cloth, washing the child's face and hands
gently as was in his power.
"Flowersy-girl," he said, "if you'd looked last night like you do this
morning, I'd never tackled getting you here in the world. I'd thought
you'd break sure."
"G'wan kid," she said. "I can stand a lot. I been knocked round somepin
awful. She dragged me by one hand or the hair when she was tight, and
threw me in a corner an' took the"--Peaches glanced over the bed,
refusing to call her former estate by the same name--"took the _place_
herself. You ain't hurting me. You can jerk me a lot."
"I guess you've been jerked enough, Lily Peaches," he said. "I guess
jerkin' ain't going to help your back any. I think we better be easy
with it 'til we lay up the money to Carrel it. He put different legs on
a dog, course he can put a new back on you."
"Dogs doesn't count only with rich folks 'at rides 'em, an' feeds 'em
cake; but where'll you find 'nother girl 'at ull spare her back for me,
Mickey-lovest?" asked Peaches.
"Gee, Lily!" he cried. "I didn't _think_ of that--I wish I hadn't
promised you. Course he could _change_ the backs, but where'd I get
one. I'll just have to let him take mine."
"I don't want no boy's back!" flashed Peaches. "I won't go out an' sell
papers, an' wash you, an' feed you, an' let you stay here in this nice
bed. I don't want no new back, grand like it is here. I won't have no
dog's back, even. I won't have no back!"
"Course I couldn't let you work and take care of me, Lily," he said.
"Course I couldn't! I was just thinking what I _could_ do. I'll write a
letter and ask the Carrel man if a dog's back would do. I could get one
your size at the pound, maybe."
Peaches arose at him with hands set like claws.
"You fool!" she shrieked. "You big damn fool! '_A dog's back!'_ I
won't! You try it an' I'll scratch your eyes out! You stop right now on
backs an' go hell-bent an' get my breakfast! I'm hungry! I like my
back! I will have it! You----"
Mickey snatched his pillow from the floor, using it to press the child
against hers. Then he slipped it down a trifle at one corner and spoke:
"Now you cut that out, Miss Chicken, right off!" he said sternly. "I
wouldn't take no tantrums from a dog, so I won't from you. You'll make
your back worse acting like that, than beating would make it, and
'sides, if you're going to live with me, you must be a lady. No lady
says such words as you used, and neither does no gentleman, 'cause I
don't myself. Now you'll either say, 'Mickey, please get me my
breakfast,' and I'll get you one with a big surprise, or you'll lay
here alone and hungry 'til I come back to-night. And it'll be a whole
day, see?"
"'F I wasn't a pore crippled kid, you wouldn't say that to me," she
wailed.
"And if you wasn't 'a poor crippled kid,' you wouldn't say swearin's to
me," said Mickey, "'cause you know I'd lick the stuffin' out of you,
and if you could see yourself, you'd know that you need stuffin' in,
more than you need it out. I'm 'mazed at you! Forget that you ever
heard such stuff, and be a nice lady, won't you? My time's getting
short and I got to go, or the other kids will sell to my paper men,
then we'll have no supper. Now you say, 'Mickey, please get my
breakfast,' like a lady, or you won't get a bite."
"'Mickey, please get my breakfast,'" she imitated.
Mickey advanced threateningly with the pillow.
"Won't do!" he said. "That ain't like no lady! That's like _me_. You'll
say it like _yourself_, or you won't get it."
She closed her lips, burying her face in her own pillow.
"All right," said Mickey. "Then I'll get my own. If you don't want any,
I'll have twice as much."
He laid the pillow on the foot of the bed, saying politely: "'Scuse me,
Lily, till I get _me_ a bottle of milk."
Soon he returned and with his first glimpse of the bed stood aghast. It
was empty. His eyes searched the room. His pallet on the floor outlined
a tiny form. A dismayed half smile flashed over his face. He took a
step toward her, and then turned, getting out a cloth he had not used
since being alone. Near the bed he set the table and laid a plate,
knife, fork and spoon. Because he was watching Peaches he soon
discovered she was peeking out at him, so he paid strict attention to
the burner he was lighting.
Then he sliced bread, put on a toaster, set the milk on the table,
broke an egg in a saucer, and turned the toast. Soon the odours filled
the room, also a pitiful sound. Mickey knew Peaches must have hurt
herself sliding from the bed, although her arms were strong for the
remainder of her body. She had no way to reach his pallet but to roll
across the floor. She might have bruised herself badly. He was amazed,
disgusted, yet compassionate. He went to her and turned back the
comfort.
"You must be speaking a little louder, Lily," he said gently. "I wasn't
quite hearing you."
Only muffled sobbing. Mickey dropped the cover.
"I want my breakfast," said a very small voice.
"You mean, 'Mickey, please _get_ my breakfast,' Flowersy-girl," he
corrected gently.
"Oh I hurt myself so!" Peaches wailed. "Oh Mickey, I fell an' broke my
back clear in two. 'Tain't like rollin' off my rags; oh Mickey, it's so
_far_ to the floor, from your bed! Oh Mickey, even another girl's back,
or yours, or a dog's, or anybody's wouldn't fix it now. It'll hurt for
days. Mickey, why did I ever? Oh what made me? Mickey-lovest, please,
please put me back on the nice fine bed, an' do please give me some of
that bread."
Mickey lifted her, crooning incoherent things. He wiped her face and
hands, combed her hair, and pushed the table against the bed. He broke
toast in a glass and poured milk over it. Then he cooked the egg and
gave her that, keeping only half the milk and one slice of bread. He
made a sandwich of more bread, and the cheese, put a banana with it,
set a cup of water in reach, and told her that was her lunch; to eat it
when the noon whistles blew. Then he laid all the picture books he had
on the back of the bed, put the money for his papers in his pocket, and
locking her in, ran down Sunrise Alley fast as he could.
He was one hour late. He had missed two regular customers. They must be
made up and more. Light, air, cleanliness, and kindness would increase
Peaches' appetite, which seemed big now for the size of her body.
Mickey's face was very sober when he allowed himself to think of his
undertaking. How would he make it? He had her now, he simply must
succeed. The day was half over before Mickey began to laugh for no
apparent reason. He had realized that she had not said what he had
required of her, after all.
"Gee, I'm up against it," said Mickey. "I didn't s'pose she'd act like
that! I thought she'd keep on being like when she woke up. I never
behaved like that."
Then in swift remorse: "But I had the finest mother a fellow ever had
to tell me, while she ain't had any one, and only got me now, so I'll
have to tell her; course I can't do everything at once. So far as that
goes, she didn't do any worse than the millyingaires' kids in the park
who roll themselves in the dirt, bump their own heads, and scream and
fight. I guess my kid's no worse than other people's. I can train her
like mother did me; then we'll be enough alike we can live together,
and even when she was the worst, I liked her. I liked her cartloads."
So Mickey shouldered the duties of paternity, and began thinking for
his child, his little, neglected, bad, sick child. His wits and feet
always had been nimble; that day he excelled himself. Anxiety as to how
much he must carry home at night to replace what he had spent in moving
Peaches to his room, three extra meals to provide before to-morrow
night, something to interest her through the long day: it was a
contract, surely! Mickey faced it gravely, but he did not flinch. He
did not know how it was to be done, but he did know it must be done.
"_Get_" her they should not. Whatever it had been his mother had feared
for him, nameless though the horror was, from _that_ he must save Lily.
Mickey had thought it must be careless nurses or lack of love.
Yesterday's papers had said there were some children at one of the
Homes, no one ever visited; they were sick for love; would not some
kind people come to see them? It must have been _that_ she feared. He
could not possibly know it was the stigma of having been a charity
child she had been combating with all her power.
They had not "got" him; they must not "get" his Lily; yet stirrings in
Mickey's brain told him he was not going to be sufficient, alone. There
were emergencies he did not know how to manage. He must have help.
Mickey revolved the problem in his worried head without reaching a
solution. His necessity drove him. He darted, dodged and took chances.
Far down the street he selected his victim and studied his method of
assault as he approached; for Mickey did victimize people that day. He
sold them papers when they did not want them. He bettered that and sold
them papers when they had them. He snatched up lost papers, smoothed
and sold them over. Every gay picture or broken toy dropped from an
automobile he caught up and pocketed for her.
A woman stumbled alighting from a passing car. Mickey dropped his
papers and sprang forward. Her weight bore him to the pavement, but he
kept her from falling, and even as he felt her on her feet, he snatched
under the wheels for her purse.
"Is that all your stuff, lady?" he asked.
"Thank you! I think so," she said. "Wait a minute!"
To lend help was an hourly occurrence with Mickey. _She_ had been most
particular to teach him that. He was gathering up and smoothing his
papers several of which were soiled. The woman opened the purse he had
rescued, taking therefrom a bill which she offered him.
"Thanks!" said Mickey. "My shoulder is worth considerable to me; but
nothing like that to you, lady!"
"Well!" she said. "Are you refusing the money?"
"Sure!" said Mickey. "I ain't a beggar! Just a balance on my shoulder
and picking up your purse ain't worth an endowment. I'll take five
cents each for three soiled papers, if you say so."
"You amazing boy!" said the woman. "Don't you understand that if you
hadn't offered your shoulder, I might now be lying senseless? You saved
me a hard fall, while my dress would have been ruined. You step over
here a minute. What's your name?"
"Michael O'Halloran," was the answer.
"Where do you live?"
"Sunrise Alley. It's miles on the cars, then some more walking,"
explained Mickey.
"Whom do you live with?"
"Myself," said Mickey.
"Alone?"
"All but Peaches," said Mickey. "Lily Peaches."
"Who is Lily Peaches?"
"She's about so long"--Mickey showed how long--"and about so wide"--he
showed how wide--"and white like Easter church flowers. Her back's bad.
I'm her governor; she's my child."
"If you won't take the money for yourself, then take it for her,"
offered the woman. "If you have a little sick girl to support, you
surely can use it."
"Umm!" said Mickey. "You kind of ball a fellow up and hang him on the
ropes. Honest you do, lady! I can take care of myself. I know I can,
'cause I've done it three years, but I don't know how I'm goin' to make
it with Lily, for she needs a lot. She may get sick any day, so I ain't
sure how I'm going to manage well with her."
"How long have you taken care of her?"
"Since last night," explained Mickey.
"Oh! How old is she?" Questions seemed endless.
"I don't know," answered Mickey. "Her granny died and left her lying on
rags in a garret. I found her screeching, so I took her to my castle
and washed her, and fed her. You should see her now."
"I believe I should!" said the woman. "Let's go at once. You know
Michael, you can't care for a _girl_. I'll put her in one of the
beautiful Children's Homes--"
"Now nix on the Children's Homes, fair lady!" he cried angrily. "I
guess you'll _find_ her, 'fore you take her! I found her first, and
she's _mine!_ I guess you'll _find_ her, 'fore you take her to a
Children's Home, where the doctors slice up the poor kids for practice
so they'll know how to get money for doing it to the rich ones. I've
_annexed_ Lily Peaches, and you don't '_get_' her! See?"
"I see," said the woman. "But you're mistaken----"
"'Scuse crossing your wire, but I don't think I _am_," said Mickey.
"The only way you can know, is to have been there yourself. I don't
think you got that kind of a start, or want it for kids of your own. My
mother killed herself to keep me out of it, and if it had been so
grand, she'd _wanted_ me there. Nix on the Orphings' Home talk. Lily
ain't going to be raised in droves, nor flocks, nor herds! See? Lily's
going to have a home of her own, and a man to take care of her by
herself."
Mickey backed away, swallowing a big lump in his throat, and blinking
down angry tears.
"'Smorning," he said, "I asked God to help me, and for a minute I was
so glad, 'cause I thought He'd helped by sending _you_, so you could
tell me how to do; but if God can't beat _you_, I can get along by
myself."
"You _can't_ take care of a girl by yourself," she insisted. "The _law_
won't allow you."
"Oh can't I?" scoffed Mickey. "Well you're mistaken, 'cause I am! And
getting along bully! You ought to seen her last night, and then this
morning. Next time I yell for help, I won't ask to have anybody sent,
I'll ask Him to help me save our souls, myself. Ever see that big,
white, wonderful Jesus at the Cathedral door, ma'am, holding the little
child in His arms so loving? I don't s'pose He stopped to ask whether
it was a girl, or a boy, 'fore He took it up; He just opened his arms
to the first _child_ that _needed_ Him. And if I remember right, He
didn't say: 'Suffer little children to be sent to Orphings' Homes.'
Mammy never read it to me _that_ way. It was suffer them to come to
'Me,' and be took up, and held tender. See? Nix on the Orphings' Home
people. They ain't in my class. Beaucheous lady, adoo! Farewell! I
depart!"
Mickey wheeled, vanishing. It was a wonderful exhibition of curves,
leaps, and darts. He paused for breath when he felt safe.
"So that's the dope!" he marvelled. "I can't take care of a girl? Going
to take her away from me? I'd like to know _why?_ Men all the time take
care of women. I see boys taking care of girls I know their mothers
left with them, every day--I'd like to know _why_. Mother said I was to
take care of _her_. She said that's what men were made _for_. 'Cause
_he didn't_ take care of her, was why she was glad my father was
_dead_. I guess I know what I'm doing! But I've learned something! Nix
on the easy talk after this; and telling anybody you meet all you know.
Shut mouth from now on. 'What's your name, little boy?' 'Andrew
Carnegie.' 'Where d'you live?' 'Castle on the Hudson!' A mouth just
tight shut about Lily, after this! And nix on the Swell Dames! Next one
can bust her crust for all I care! I won't touch her!"
On the instant, precisely that thing occurred, at Mickey's very feet.
With his lips not yet closed, he knelt to shove his papers under a
woman's head, then went racing up the stone steps she had rolled down,
his quick eye catching and avoiding the bit of fruit on which she had
slipped. He returned in a second with help. As the porter lifted the
inert body, Mickey slid his hands under her head, and advised: "Keep
her straight!" Into one of the big hospitals he helped carry a blue and
white clad nurse, on and on, up elevators and into a white porcelain
room where they laid her on a glass table. Mickey watched with
frightened eyes. Doctors and nurses came running. He stood waiting for
his papers. He was rather sick, yet he remembered he had five there he
must sell.
"Better clear out of here now!" suggested a surgeon.
"My papers!" said Mickey. "She fell right cross my feet. I slid them
under, to make her head more pillowlike on the stones. Maybe I can sell
some of them."
The surgeon motioned to a nurse at the door.
"Take this youngster to the office and pay him for the papers he has
spoiled," he ordered.
"Will she--is she going to----?" wavered Mickey.
"I'm not sure," said the surgeon. "From the bleeding probably
concussion; but she will live. Do you know how she came to fall?"
"There was a smear of something on the steps she didn't see," explained
Mickey.
"Thank you! Go with the nurse," said the surgeon. Then to an attendant:
"Take Miss Alden's number, and see to her case. She was going after
something."
Mickey turned back. "Paper, maybe," he suggested, pointing to her
closed hand. The surgeon opened it and found a nickel. He handed it to
Mickey. "If you have a clean one left, let this nurse take it to Miss
Alden's case, and say she has been assigned other duty. See to sending
a substitute at once."
Every paper proved to be marked.
"I can bring you a fresh one in a second, lady," offered Mickey. "I got
the money."
"All right," she said. "Wait with it in the office and then I'll pay
you."
"I'm sent for a paper. I'm to be let in as soon as I get it," announced
Mickey to the porter. "I ain't taking chances of being turned down," he
said to himself, as he stopped a second to clean the step.
He returned and was waiting when the nurse came. She was young and fair
faced; her hair was golden, and as she paid Mickey for his papers he
wondered how soon he could have Lily looking like her. He took one long
survey as he pocketed the money, thinking he would rush home at once;
but he wanted to fix in his mind how Lily must appear, to be right, for
he thought a nurse in the hospital would be right.
The nurse knew she was beautiful, and to her Mickey's long look was
tribute, male tribute; a small male indeed, but such a winning one; so
she took the occasion to be her loveliest, and smile her most
attractive smile. Mickey surrendered. He thought she was like an angel,
that made him think of Heaven, Heaven made him think of God, God made
him think of his call for help that morning, the call made him think of
the answer, the beautiful woman before him made him think that possibly
_she_ might be the answer instead of the other one. He rather doubted
it, but it might be a chance. Mickey was alert for chances for Peaches,
so he smiled again, then he asked: "Are you in such an awful hurry?"
"I think we owe you more than merely paying for your papers," she said.
"What is it?"
Again Mickey showed how long and how wide Lily was. "And with hair like
yours, and eyes and cheeks that would be, if she had her chance, and
nobody to give her that chance but just me," he said. "Me and Lily are
all each other's got," he explained hastily. "We're _home_ folks. We're
a family. We don't want no bunching in corps and squads. We're nix on
the Orphings' Home business; but you _must know_, ma'am--would you, oh
would you tell me just how I should be taking care of her? I'm doing
everything like my mother did to me; but I was well and strong. Maybe
Lily, being a girl, should have things different. A-body so beautiful
as you, would tell me, wouldn't you?"
Then a miracle happened. The nurse, so clean she smelled like a drug
store, so lovely she shone as a sunrise, laid an arm across Mickey's
shoulders. "You come with me," she said. She went to a little room, and
all alone she asked Mickey questions; with his eyes straight on hers,
he answered. She told him surely he could take care of Lily. She
explained how. She rang for a basket and packed it full of things he
must have, showing him how to use them. She told him to come each
Saturday at four o'clock, as she was going off duty, and tell her how
he was getting along. She gave him a thermometer, and told him how to
learn if the child had fever. She told him about food, and she put in
an ointment, instructing him to rub the little back with it, so the bed
would not be so tiresome. She showed him how to arrange the pillows;
when he left, the tears were rolling down Mickey's cheeks. Both of them
were so touched she laid her arm across his shoulder again and went as
far as the elevator, while a passport to her at any time was in his
pocket.
"I 'spect other folks tell you you are beautiful like flowers, or
music, or colours," said Mickey in farewell, "but you look like a
window in Heaven to me, and I can see right through you to God and all
the beautiful angels; but what gets me is why the other one had to bust
her crust, to make you come true!"
The nurse was laughing and wiping her eyes at the same time. Mickey
gripped the basket until his hands were stiff as he sped homeward at
least two hours early and happy about it. At the last grocery he
remembered every word and bought bread, milk, and fruit with care "for
a sick lady" he explained, so the grocer, who knew him, used care.
Triumphing Mickey climbed the stairs. He paused a second in deep
thought at the foot of the last flight, then ascended whistling to let
Peaches know that he was coming, then on his threshold recited:
"_One't a little kid named Lily,
Was so sweet she'd knock you silly,
Yellow hair in millying curls,
Beat a mile all other girls._"
She was on his bed; she was on his pillow; she had been lonely; both
arms were stretched toward him.
"Mickey, hurry!" she cried. "Mickey, lemme hold you 'til I'm sure!
Mickey, all day I didn't hardly durst breathe, fear the door'd open an'
they'd '_get_' me. Oh Mickey, you won't let them, will you?"
Mickey dropped his bundles and ran to the bed. This time he did not
shrink from her wavering clasp. It was delight to come home to
something alive, something that belonged to him, something to share
with, something to work and think for, something that depended upon him.
"Now nix on the scare talk," he comforted. "Forget it! I've lived here
three years alone, and not a single time has anybody come to 'get' me,
so they won't you. There's only one thing can happen us. If I get sick
or spend too much on eating, and don't pay the rent, the man that owns
this building will fire us out. If we, _if we_" Mickey repeated
impressively, "pay our rent regular, in advance, nobody will _ever_
come, not _ever_, so don't worry."
"Then what's all them bundles?" fretted Peaches. "You ortn't a-got so
much. You'll never get the _next_ rent paid! They'll 'get' me sure."
"Now throttle your engine," advised Mickey. "Stop your car! Smash down
on the brakes! They are things the city you reside in furnishes its
taxpayers, or something like that. I pay my rent, so this is my
_share_, and it's things for you: to make you comfortable. Which are
you worst--tiredest, or hungriest, or hottest?"
"I don't know," she said.
"Then I'll make a clean get-a-way," said Mickey. "Washing is cooling;
and it freshens you up a lot."
So Mickey brought his basin again, bathing the tired child gently as
any woman could have done it.
"See what I got!" he cried as he opened bundles and explained. "I'm
going to see if you have fever."
Peaches rebelled at the thermometer.
"Now come on in," urged Mickey. "Slide straight home to your base! If
I'm going to take care of you, I'm going to right. You can't lay here
eating wrong things if you have _fever_. No-sir-ee! You don't get to
see in any more of these bundles, nor any supper, nor talked to any
more, 'til you put this little glass thing under your tongue and hold
it there just this way"--Mickey showed how--"three minutes by the
clock, then I'll know what to do with you next. I'll sit beside you,
and hold your hands, and tell you about the pretty lady that sent it."
Mickey wiped the thermometer on the sheet, then presented it. Peaches
took one long look at him and opened her lips. Mickey inserted the
tube, set the clock in sight, and taking both her hands he held them
closely and talked as fast as he could to keep her from using them. He
had not half finished the day when the time was up. If he had done it
right, Peaches had very little, if any, fever.
"Now turn over so I can rub your back to make it all nice and rested,"
he said. "And then I'll get supper."
"I don't want my back rubbed," she protested. "My back's all right now."
"Nothing to do with going to have it rubbed," said Mickey. "It would be
a silly girl who would have a back that wouldn't walk, and then
wouldn't even try having it doctored, so that it would get better. Just
try Lily, and if it doesn't _help_, I won't do it any more."
Peaches took another long look at Mickey, questioning in nature, then
turned her back to him.
"Gosh, kid! Your back looks just like horses' going to the fertilizer
plant," he said.
"Ain't that swearin's?" asked Peaches promptly.
"First-cousin," answered Mickey. "'Scuse me Lily. If you could see your
back, you'd 'scuse worse than that."
"Feelin' ull do fer me," said Peaches. "I live wid it." "Honest kid,
I'm scared to touch you," he wavered.
"Aw g'wan!" said Peaches. "I ain't goin' screechin' even if you hurt
awful, an' you touch like a sparrer lookin' for crumbs. Mickey, can we
put out a few?"
"For the sparrows? Sure!" cried Mickey. "They're the ones that God sees
especial when they fall. Sure! Put out some in a minute. Still now!"
Mickey poured on ointment, then began softly rubbing it into the
dreadful back. His face was drawn with anxiety and filled with horror.
He was afraid, but the nurse said this he should do, while Mickey's
first lesson had been implicit obedience. So he rubbed gently as he was
fearful; when Peaches made no complaint, a little stronger, and a
little stronger, until he was tired. Then he covered her, telling her
to lie on it, and see how it felt. Peaches looked at him with wondering
eyes.
"Mickey," she said, "nothin" in all my life ever felt like that, an'
the nice cool washin' you do. Mickey-lovest, nex' time I act mean 'bout
what you want to do to me, slap me good, an' hold me, an' go on an'
_do_ it!"
"Now nix on the beating," said Mickey. "I never had any from my mother;
but the kids who lost sales to me took my nickels, and give me plenty.
You ought to know, Lily, that I'm trying hard as I can to make you feel
good; and to take care of you. What I want to do, I think will make you
_better_, so I'm just nachally going to _do_ it, 'cause you're mine,
and you got to do what I say. But I won't say anything that'll hurt you
and make you worse. If you must take time to think new things over, I
can wait; but I can't hit you Lily, you're too little, too sick, and I
like you too well. I wish you'd be a lady! I wish you wouldn't ever be
bad again!"
"Hoh I feel so good!" Peaches stretched like a kitten. "Mickey, bet I
can walk 'fore long if you do that often! Mickey, I just love you, an'
_love_ you. Mickey, say that at the door over again."
"What?" queried Mickey.
"'One't a little kid named Lily,'" prompted Peaches.
Mickey laughed and obeyed.
Neatly he put away all that had been supplied him; before lighting the
burner he gave Lily a drink of milk and tried arranging both pillows to
prop her up as he had been shown. When the water boiled he dropped in
two bouillon cubes the nurse had given him, and set out some crackers
he had bought. He put the milk in two cups, and when he cut the bread,
he carefully collected every crumb, putting it on the sill in the hope
that a bird might come. The thieving sparrows, used to watching windows
and stealing from stores set out to cool, were soon there. Peaches, to
whom anything with feathers was a bird, was filled with joy. The odour
of the broth was delicious. Mickey danced, turned handsprings, and made
the funniest remarks. Then he fixed the bowl on a paper, broke the
crackers in her broth, growing unspeakably happy at her delight as she
tasted it.
"Every Saturday you get a box of that from the Nurse Lady," he boasted.
"Pretty soon you'll be so fat I can't carry you and so well you can
have supper ready when I come, then we can----" Mickey stopped short.
He had started to say, "go to the parks," but if other ladies were like
the first one he had talked with, and if, as she said, the law would
not let him keep Peaches, he had better not try to take her where
people would see her.
"Can what?" asked Peaches.
"Have the most fun!" explained Mickey. "We can sit in the window to see
the sky and birds; you can have the shears and cut pictures from the
papers I'll bring you, while I'll read all my story books to you. I got
three that She gave me for Christmas presents, so I could learn to read
them----"
"Mickey could I ever learn to read them?"
"Sure!" cried Mickey. "Surest thing you know! You are awful smart,
Lily. You can learn in no time, and then you can read while I'm gone,
so it won't seem long. I'll teach you. Mother taught me. I can read the
papers I sell. Honest I can. I often pick up torn ones I can bring to
you. It's lots of fun to know what's going on. I sell many more by
being able to tell what's in them than kids who can't read. I look all
over the front page and make up a spiel on the cars. I always fold my
papers neat and keep them clean. To-day it was like this: 'Here's your
nice, clean, morning paper! Sterilized! Deodorized! Vulcanized!'"
"Mickey what does that mean?" asked Peaches.
"Now you see how it comes in!" said Mickey. "If you could read the
papers, you'd _know_. 'Sterilized,' is what they do to the milk in hot
weather to save the slum kids. That's us, Lily. 'Deodorized,' is taking
the bad smell out of things. 'Vulcanized,' is something they do to
stiffen things. I guess it's what your back needs."
"Is all them things done to the papers?" asked Peaches.
"Well, not _all_ of them," laughed Mickey, "but they are starting in on
_some_ of them, and all would be a good thing. The other kids who can't
read don't know those words, so I study them out and use them; it
catches the crowd for they laugh, and then pay me for making them. See?
This world down on the streets is in such a mix a laugh is the scarcest
thing there is; so they _pay_ for it. No grouchy,
sad-cat-working-on-your-sympathy kid sells many. I can beat one with a
laugh every inning."
"What's 'inning,' Mickey?" came the next question.
"Playin' a side at a ball game. Now Ty Cobb----"
"Go on with what you say about the papers," interrupted Peaches.
"All right!" said Mickey. "'Here's your nice, clean morning paper!
Sterilized! Deodorized! Vulcanized! I _like_ to sell them. You _like_
to buy them! _Sometimes_ I sell them! Sometimes I _don't!_ Latest war
news! Japan takes England! England takes France! France takes Germany!
Germany takes Belgium! Belgium takes the cake! Here's your paper! Nice
clean paper! Rush this way! Change your change for a paper! Yes, I
_like_ to sell them----' and on and on that way all day, 'til they're
gone and every one I pick up and smooth out is gone, and if they're
torn and dirty, I carry them back on the cars and sell them for pennies
to the poor folks walking home."
"Mickey, will we be slum kids always?" she asked.
"Not on your tin type!" cried Mickey.
"If this is slum kids, I like it!" protested Peaches.
"Well, Sunrise Alley ain't so slummy as where you was, Lily," explained
the boy.
"This is grand," said Peaches "Fine an' grand! No lady needn't have
better!"
"She wouldn't say so," said Mickey. "But Lily, you got something most
of the millyingaire ladies hasn't."
"What Mickey?" she asked interestedly.
"One man all to yourself, who will do what you want, if you ask pretty,
and he ain't going to drag you 'round and make you do things you don't
like to, and hit you, and swear at you, and get drunk. Gee, I bet the
worst you ever had didn't hurt more than I've seen some of the swell
dames hurt sometimes. It'd make you sick Lily."
"I guess 'at it would," said the girl, "'cause granny told me the same
thing. Lots of times she said 'at she couldn't see so much in bein'
rich if you had to be treated like she saw rich ladies. She said all
they got out of it was nice dresses an' struttin' when their men wasn't
'round; nelse the money was theirn, an' nen they made the men pay. She
said it was 'bout half and half."
"So 'tis!" cried Mickey. "Tell you Lily, don't let's ever _be_ rich!
Let's just have enough."
"Mickey, what is 'enough?'" asked Peaches.
"Why plenty, but not too much!" explained Mickey judicially. "Not
enough to fight over! Just enough to be comfortable."
"Mickey, I'm comf'rable as nangel now."
"Gee, I'm glad, Lily," said Mickey in deep satisfaction. "Maybe He
heard my S.O.S. after all, and you just being _comfortable_ is the
answer."