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By Root 10596 0

told them of the things of yesteryear, and of plays he’d taken Johnny’s mother to. One was called Soudan, given way back in about 1903, and it was a humdinger! They killed forty-five men in the first act. Was it a play! They had shipwrecks at sea, and what not, and when the shooting started half of the audience held their heads under the seats until it ended, and when the villain came on the stage everyone kept going ssss! ssss! And the dime novels, and Nick Carter! But times had changed. Times had changed. Even kids weren’t like they used to be, they had none of the old feeling of other times, they didn’t have that old barefoot-boy attitude, and they weren’t as tough, either, and they didn’t hang around knotholes at the ball park to see the great players, not the ones around Indiana anyway. Times had changed.

They drove around. At one place, Mr. O’Brien had to see a sheeny and explain why the coal delivery had been late. The fellow talked like a regular Oi Yoi Yoi, waving his arms in front of him like he was in the signal corps of the U. S. Army. He protested, but Old Man O’Brien gave him a long spiel, and as they were leaving, the guy all but kissed Johnny’s father. When they drove on, O’Brien said to the kids:

“You got to soft soap some of these Abie Kabbibles.”

He winked at them and they laughed. Studs kept thinking of his old man and Johnny’s, and dreaming of being a kid like Mr. O’Brien had been and wishing that his gaffer was more like Mr. O’Brien... Well, anyway, he wasn’t as bad as High Collars.

It had been a great afternoon, though.

III

That night when Studs was ready to go out, he walked into the parlor. The old man and the old lady were sitting there, and the old boy was in his slippers sucking on a stogy; and the two of them were enjoying a conversation about the latest rape case in the newspapers in which the rapist was named Gogarty. Studs noticed that when he entered they shut up. He wondered what the hell did they think he was. Did they think he was born yesterday, and still believed in Santa Claus, the Easter Rabbit and storks? He wanted to tell them so, tell them in words that would show how much of a pain they gave him when they treated him as if he was only a baby. But the words wouldn’t come; they almost never came to him when he wanted them to. He stood swallowing his resentment.

The old man said:

“You know, Bill, a fellow ought to come home some time. Now when I was your age, when I was your age, I know I liked to get out with the fellows, and that’s why I can understand how you feel about bein’ a regular guy, and bein’ with the bunch, and I don’t want you to think I’m always pickin’ on you, or preachin’ to you, or tryin’ to make you into a molly-coddle, because I ain’t. I know a kid wants a little liberty, be-cause I was your age once... BUT….”

Studs got Goddamn sore. He knew what was coming. The old man always worked the same damn gag.

“You see, Bill, you’re stayin’ out pretty late, and you know, well, it’s as your mother says, the neighbors will be thinkin’ things, wonderin’ if we, the landlords here, set a good example for our children, and live decently, an’ if we are takin’ the right sort of care of our children. I’m the owner of this here building, you see, and I got to have a family that sets the right kind of an example. Now what do you think they’ll think if they see you comin’ in so late every evenin’, comin’ in night after night after most respectable people have gone to bed?”

“But what is it their business?” asked Studs.

“And, William, you know you have to look out for your health. Now what will you do if you go on getting little sleep like you do? You know you should get to bed early. Why, this very day in the newspapers, there was an article saying that sleep gotten before twelve o’clock was better and healthier sleep than sleep gotten after midnight. You’re wearing yourself out, and you’re wearin’ out me, your mother, because I worry over you, because I can’t let my baby get tuberculosis,” the mother said.

“I’m all right; I’m healthy,” Studs said.

“Well, I think, Bill,