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By Root 10639 0

had been plenty of time before to wash his hands. Studs said that he didn’t see why there was any kicking. He was at the table now, and nothing had happened by his stopping to wash his hands. The old man told him to suppose that the meat had gotten cold. But it didn’t get cold, Studs said. Lonigan told him that it might have gotten cold. Frances said that she wished the Sunday quarreling could be stopped. She was tired of sitting down to a Sunday dinner and being forced to listen to this interminable ragging. Old Man Lonigan said that there wouldn’t be no quarreling if everybody did what was right. He said that he was boss of the household, and that as long as he remained boss of the household there were certain rules that would be observed, and one was that everybody must be at the table on time. It got Studs sore. The old man was always pulling that stuff. Studs said that so far as he was concerned, he wouldn’t eat Sunday dinner if there was going to be the same fighting all the time. Frances said that she agreed with Studs. Mrs. Lonigan said that the name was William. The old man said that they could take or leave the rules of the household. Martin asked for meat. Loretta said that the dinner would be cold if it wasn’t served soon. She said that there was awful much talking. The old man told her to be more respectful because little children should honor their parents and be seen and not heard. Passing Martin’s filled plate down, he assured them that he was a good father. He said he asked very little from them. Frances and Studs looked tiredly at each other, and didn’t say anything. They awaited their plates, and then they concentrated on eating.

“This is fine, Mama,” the old man said, jamming roast beef into his mouth.

“I like it,” said Martin.

“Any more for anyone?” said the old man.

“Me,” said Martin.

“You got hookworm,” the old man said, taking Martin’s plate.

Finally, the old boy said, smiling expansively:

“Well, I’m filled. I ate my share.”

The others said they had had their fill.

Coffee and ice cream were served, and they talked lazily. The mother changed the stream of conversation, and said: “William, I wish that you wouldn’t be staying out so late.”

“Yeh, Bill, we told you about that once before,” the old man said.

Bill told himself that he was almost fifteen, and that he ought to have some rights. But what the hell could a guy say to an old man like his? He wished he had an old man like Johnny O’Brien did.

“And, William, I know you don’t like me to mention this, but you’re still young yet, and can’t decide. I do wish you would pray to ask God if you have a vocation or not, and next month start in and make the nine first Fridays. Now that is the least you can do for Almighty God who sacrificed His only begotten Son for you on the cross of Calvary.”

“All right,” Studs said, knowing the best thing to do with his parents was to agree with them and let it go at that. His mother harped so much on it that he thought maybe he did have a vocation. But he tried not to think of it, when he could do so, without putting the thought out of his head deliberately, because, well, there was…Lucy.

“Now, Mary, you know the boy hasn’t a vocation. You’re putting things in his head, and maybe you’ll go and make a priest out of him when I’ll be needing him, and then he is not meant for the priesthood, and you know, Mary, it is as bad to send one in that hasn’t a vocation as it is to keep away one who really has the call. You know, Mary, there’s many the unhappy priest who don’t belong in the ranks and is there because his good mother unthinkingly made a priest out of him.”

“Patrick, you know I’m not doing anything of the sort. I’m only trying to put the boy in the right spirit, so he can decide whether or not he has the call.”

“But, Mary…”

It started them off again. This time Loretta interrupted the argument to say that she had seen Studs, she meant William, hitching on a motor truck. The old lady shuddered, blessed herself and called on Jesus, Mary and Joseph. The old man said it was dangerous, and that Bill ought