FullReads

“It’s a piano, not an organ; it doesn’t need blowing.”

“Oh, yes, I see one in a s’loon; I seen such an orful pretty lady play on one. She give her silk dress a swish to one side, so! and then she cocked her head over sideways like a bird, and then her hands, all jinglin’ over with rings, went a-whizzin’ up and down them black and white teeth just like sixty!”

“You know, Patsy, I can’t bear to have my little Kindergarten boys stand around the saloon doors; it isn’t a good place, and if you want to be good men you must learn to be good little boys first, don’t you see?”

“Well, I wanted some kind of fun. I seen a cirkis wunst,–that was fun! I seen it through a hole; it takes four bits to git inside the tent, and me and another feller found a big hole and went halveys on it. First he give a peek, and then I give a peek, and he was bigger’n me, and he took orful long peeks, he did, ‘nd when it come my turn the ladies had just allers jumped through the hoops, or the horses was gone out; ‘nd bimeby he said mebbe we might give the hole a stretch and make it a little mite bigger, it wouldn’t do no harm, ‘nd I’d better cut it, ‘cos his fingers was lame; ‘nd I just cutted it a little mite, ‘n’ a cop come up behind and h’isted us and I never seen no more cirkis; but I went to Sunday-school wunst, and it warn’t so much fun as the cirkis!”

I thought I would not begin moral lectures at once, but seize a more opportune time to compare the relative claims of Sunday-school and circus.

“You’ve got things fixed up mighty handy here, haven’t yer? It’s most as good as Woodward’s Gardens,–fishes–‘nd c’nary birds–‘nd flowers–‘nd pictures–is there stories to any of ’em?”

“Stories to every single one, Patsy! We’ve just turned that corner by the little girl feeding chickens, and to-morrow we shall begin on that splendid dog by the window.”

Patsy’s face was absolutely radiant with excitement. “Jiminy! I’m glad I got in in time for that!–‘nd ain’t that a bear by the door thar?”

“Yes; that’s a mother bear with cubs.”

“Has he got a story too?”

“Everything has a story in this room.”

“Jiminy! ‘ts lucky I didn’t miss that one! There’s a splendid bear in a s’loon on Fourth Street,–mebbe the man would leave him go a spell if you told him what a nice place you hed up here. Say, them fishes keep it up lively, don’t they?–s’pose they’re playin’ tag?”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” I said smilingly; “it looks like it. Now, Patsy, I must be going home, but you shall come to-morrow, at nine o’clock surely, remember! and the children will be so glad to have another little friend. You’ll dress yourself nice and clean, won’t you?”

“Well, I should smile! but these is the best I got. I got another part to this hat, though, and another pocket belongs with these britches.” (He alternated the crown and rim of a hat, but was never extravagant enough to wear them at one time.) “Ain’t I clean? I cleaned myself by the feelin’!”

“Here’s a glass, dear; how do you think you succeeded?”

“Jiminy! I didn’t get much of a sweep on that, did I now? But don’t you fret, I’ve got the lay of it now, and I’ll just polish her off red-hot to-morrer, ‘n don’t you forgit it!”

“Patsy, here’s a warm bun and a glass of milk; let’s eat and drink together, because this is the beginning of our friendship; but please don’t talk street words to Miss Kate; she doesn’t like them. I’ll do everything I can to make you have a good time, and you’ll try to do a few things to please me, won’t you?”

Patsy looked embarrassed, ate his bit of bun in silence, and after twirling his hat-crown for a few seconds hitched out of the door with a backward glance and muttered remark which must have been intended for farewell.