The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [140]
The family paused from its supper to look aghast at Martin. “Why, the idea!” said Fran in dudgeon.
“Martin, where do you hear language like that?” Lonigan sternly asked.
“He won’t get a girl ever if he talks like that,” Loretta said, amused.
“Now, see here, young fellow! I never want to hear you talking like that inside this house, and above all at the family table, blessed be God,” Lonigan commanded.
“You children are the life of me! I don’t know where you get your talk and your ideas,” the mother said.
“If you would send him to a refined private school, like the one Catherine Hovey’s brother goes to, he wouldn’t talk like he does,” Fran said.
“I won’t go to that dopey school,” Martin protested.
“Listen! If you want to sit at this table with your mother and sisters, you’re going to use civilized, refined language,” Lonigan said.
“All right, but gee, can’t all of you let me alone?”
“He takes after him,” Fran said, pointing at Studs.
Studs was inwardly proud. He was always being told his kid brother was just like he’d been, and plenty tough.
“Nobody asked for your two cents’ worth,” Studs said.
“Why, William Lonigan, you’re not going to talk to me in that tone of voice!”
“Children, please!” interjected the mother.
“I give him up. I don’t care what he does any more. I don’t want him at our dance, disgracing me. If he chooses to be a bum, let him! I wash my hands,” Fran said like a martyr.
“You’ve been doing that for years, I hope it’s final,” sneered Studs.
“Don’t worry. It is. You have a positive hatred of acting like a gentleman. Go your own way! You might wake up some day and be sorry,” she said.
“Swell,” Studs said sarcastically.
“That’ll be about enough,” Lonigan boomed.
The table lapsed into a hostile silence. To break it, Lonigan asked Loretta how she was coming along at school.
“Fine, Dad.”
Studs ate quickly. Hell, he didn’t want to take his time, and listen to all the talk that went on.
“What are you studying?”
“Oh, Latin, and Advanced Algebra, and Christian Doctrine, and History, and ..”
“You’re going to be a smart lady, I see.”
“Martin! Haven’t you been told before not to set your knife against your plate like that. Put it on your plate. You’re not eating with African cannibals,” Fran said.
“Oh, all right!” Martin pouted, putting his knife across his plate.
“I thought I said there’s to be no more of this!” Lonigan said.
“Well, there wouldn’t be, if someone would teach him some manners,” Fran said.
“Aw, mind your own business,” Martin said.
“Fran, please!” said Loretta.
“Well, he could at least eat in a civilized fashion,” Fran said.
“Martin, who do you ever see eating like that?” Lonigan asked.
“Him!” Fran said, pointing at Studs.
“Say, keep your trap shut.”
“You’re not going to snarl at me,” she said. She jumped up, and flushed out of the room. Lonigan impotently looked from one to the other.
“I do wish you’d treat one another like brother and sister,” Mrs. Lonigan said. She arose and followed Fran.
“Bill, you know your sister’s a little nervous and you got to make allowances for her,” Lonigan fatuously said.
Fran returned with the mother, frowned, and sat down, preserving an air of armed truce.
“Well, I had an offer of ninety thousand for the building today,” Lonigan said.
“You took it?” asked Fran.
“I should say not.”
“But, Father, this neighborhood is deteriorating all the time. The best people in it are moving over to Hyde Park or out in South Shore. Soon I’ll be ashamed to admit I live around here.”
“Young lady, you’re wrong. The niggers will be run raggedy if they ever try to get past Wabash Avenue. This is a good, decent neighborhood full of respectable people, and it will always be so. Didn’t you hear Father Gilhooley talk about the new church he was building on this street? What did he say? Didn’t he say Michigan was going to be a boulevard straight through. Then, this building will be worth twice as much. Why this neighborhood hasn’t even commenced to grow yet, the way it will, and property values have hardly started to rise in it.”
“But, Father .. .”
“Young