Young Lonigan - James T. Farrell [330]
“Hello, Studs.”
Studs was grateful, for the unexpected presence and solicitous greeting of Johnny O’Brien, and they shook hands. Studs noticed something familiar in the round, pleasing face of the expensively dressed blonde girl on Johnny’s arm, and he saw that Johnny was rather pale and thin in the cheeks.
“You ought to know my wife, Studs, Harriet Hayes from St. Patrick’s.”
“Sure, Roslyn Hayes’ sister. And this is Catherine Banahan, Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien.”
“How do you do.”
“How do you do.”
“How do you do.”
“Yes, I remember you, and how is Loretta?” Harriet O’Brien asked.
“She’s married now to Phil Rolfe, know him?” Studs said, and he wasn’t sure whether or not the O’Briens had really frowned at the mention of Phil’s name.
“He’s a bookie, isn’t he?” Johnny said snootily.
“Yes.”
“Gee, Studs, I’m glad to see you, and how is everything going?” Johnny asked, his tone of voice changing.
“Fair, Johnny, fair. How’s tricks by you,” Studs said, noticing that Catherine and Harriet had fallen into a conversation about the weather.
“I’m with dad. We’re in the coal business, and while as a whole the coal business is pretty shot, we’ve been more than holding up our end of the stick. In fact, considering conditions, we’re doing swell.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Good.”
“Well, you see, Studs, these mine strikes they’ve been having these last months have helped us. In fact, they have saved our neck. You see, we had our yards full of coal and couldn’t do much with it. And these strikes creating some shortage, we’re setting pretty, and the price of coal has gone up a little. That’s helped us a lot, and I’m hoping the Reds who’ve been agitating the miners, according to some newspaper accounts, keep the strikes going a little more. It’s certainly a godsend to O’Brien’s Coal company. And then we do a big business with convents and churches and Catholic Schools.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear it, Johnny.”
“Isn’t it dreadful the way these high waist-lines in the new spring styles show off the figure? You’ve really got to be thin to wear them,” Catherine said.
“I was thinking the same thing, and I’m going on that Hollywood eighteen-day diet with grape fruit, lamb chops and melba toast.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that nearly all the restaurants downtown are featuring it, and many of them have their windows stacked with grape fruits. What do you really think of it?”
“The movie magazine that I just read said it absolutely works and I’m starting on it tomorrow,” Harriet said.
“What do you think of the election, Studs?”
“Good, Johnny, I’ve always been a Democrat.”
“I voted regular, too. We’re kind of hoping to get some contracts out of it, and it’s certainly fine for the city to kick out the crooked Republican machine.”
“Yes, I like to see the Democrats in. But I guess it doesn’t mean much to most of us. It’s like baseball. You like to see your favorite team win.”
“No, I never went to Saint Paul’s,” Catherine said to Harriet.
“It was really a tragedy to see Rock die,” Johnny said.
“Yes, he was a regular fellow.”
“He was a great man. Why even Hoover sent a telegram to his wife,” Johnny said.
“Notre Dame will miss him.”
“I think the team will go on just the same. Rockne may be gone, but not his Viking spirit.”
“There was one newspaper editorial on his death, did you see it, that was very good. It told of how he died, like he lived, in the saddle, and that he carried on the real spirit of the old Norse Vikings.”
“What was it he was going to the coast for when he died?” Studs asked.
“He was connected with the sales department of an automobile plant and he was flying out there to open a sales campaign.”
“I certainly hated to see old Rock die.”
“He was a great man and it’s a great loss,” Johnny said, dolefully. “But, say, mass ought to be just about starting. And say, Studs, do drop over and see us. We’re living at Sixty-ninth and Crandon. The number’s in the book, and just give us a ring any time.”
“I will.”
Studs and Catherine followed the O’Briens into church.
II
“Today certainly has brought