The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [19]
Studs casually shot his butt, just like all tough guys did.
“Well, if a guy stands for it, that’s his tough luck,” Weary said.
“Yeah, but goofy McCarthy is helpless. Christ, the poor guy’s got one foot in the grave. His brother Red ain’t so bad, but he’s a sap. I tell you he’s fruity,” said Studs.
“The loogin’s rotting away with TB anyway,” said Weary.
“But lemme tell you... he’s damn smart. Jesus! You know, if he’d a wanted tuh work, he could of had the scholarship to St. Cyril or any of those schools that hold scholarship exams and give scholarships,” Studs said.
“But what the hell does that mean?” said Weary.
“Nothin’,” said Studs.
“Anyway, I’m glad I’m through with old Bertha,... say, gimme another fag?” Weary said.
They lit cigarettes.
“Remember her, how she’d rush down the aisle to hit a guy, and she’d never hit the right one because she’s as blind as a bat and she couldn’t see enough to take the right aim?” said Studs.
They laughed because Bertha was funny, blind as a bat like she was.
“But she is one lousy crab,” said Studs.
“Anyway, I’m damn glad to be out of the dump,” said Weary.
“Me, too,” affirmed Studs.
“But we had a pretty good time at that,” Weary added.
“Yeh, even if we did have Bertha in seventh and eighth grade, and even if we did have guys like Claybum in the class making it hard for us by always studying,” said Studs.
“Clayburn ought to be in the boy scouts,” Weary said derisively.
They laughed.
“Say, remember the time we shoved bonehead Vine Curley through the convent window, and there was a big stink, and Bernadette lammed blazes out of him when he bawled that he didn’t do it and she said he did and she would break his head before she let him call her a liar?” said Studs.
“That was funny,” Weary said.
“And the time Muggsy hit Bertha with an eraser, and she went sky high, and looked like she’d bust a blood vessel, and she blamed Reardon and nearly put lumps on his head by beaning him with her clapper?” said Studs.
“And the fights we used to have with the Greek kids from the school across the way, and their priest would come over to Gilly, because he and Gilly are friends even if he is a Greek Catholic priest, and Gilly would send Doneggan up to read the riot act to us?” said Weary.
They laughed.
“And remember the time when Bertha fell on the ice?” said Studs.
“That was good because we were off three days,” said Weary.
“You know, about the only decent thing about Bertha was that she was always falling on the ice or getting sick so she couldn’t teach and we were getting holidays,” said Studs.
“Well, Bertha always gave me a pain right here,” Weary said, pointing to the proper part of his anatomy.
A pause.
“Are you going to high school?” asked Weary.
“I don’t know. I don’ wanna,” said Studs.
“I’m not goin’,” said Weary.
“I don’t think I’ll go,” said Studs.
“Schools are all so much horse apple,” said Weary.
“I don’t want to go, but the gaffer wants me to, I guess,” said Studs.
“Well, I ain’t goin’, and my old man can lump it if he don’t like it,” said Weary.
“Gonna work?”
“Maybe,” said Weary.
“Maybe I’ll get myself a jobber,” said Studs.
“Say, by the way, Gilly didn’t ask for any dough in his speech, did he? I wonder if the old boy is sick or startin’ to get feeble,” said Weary.
“Well, he told us all to remember and not forget to contribute to the support of our pastor,” said Studs.
“Yeah, that’s right. He’s never yet made a sermon without askin’ for somethin’, a coal collection, or a collection for the starvin’ chinks, or for Indian missions, or some damn thing,” said Weary.
“He’s always asking for the shekels. He’s as bad as a kike,” said Studs.
“And did you hear his crack about the playground?” said Weary.
“Yeah,” said Studs.
“Well, I couldn’t keep a straight face when he made that crack about our large playground. Boy! a yard full of cinder where you can’t play football, or even pompompullaway without tearin’ hell out of your clothes and yourself, and they won’t let you play ball in it because they’re afraid you’ll break a window, and he