Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 180, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 August 1914 — WOMAN THAT GALLED [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

WOMAN THAT GALLED

By . MATTHEW GOLDMAN.

After climbing dark, dingy flights in the seething Cherry Hill

tenement, the woman wavered a moment Then she knocked timidly upon the cracked panel of a door. "W—well! Of all the seven wonders of the world —Kitty Driscoll!” “Yes, it’s me, Frank,” said the woman, softly closing the door behind her. „ “Sit down, Klt-

tie, and—make yourself right at home, won’t you?” begged her rugged host, a ’hit flustered. "I—er —l suppose you’re kind of surprised to see me round here —ain’t you?” remarked the caller, seating herself. “Yes—kind of. You see, I ain’t seen you—since—Maggie died." “I wouldn’t be here now, maybe,” faltered the woman, "If —If it wasn’t that I—” '‘Don’t hold back. Kittle,” cut in the man encouragingly. “I —ain’t got much myself,, but if I —l can help you out, juet say the word.” Kittie Driscoll's heart gave a banging thump. A choking feeling gripped her. “I ain’t needin’ anything, Frank,” she said in a firmer voice. “It’s somethin* else I wanted to speak to you about. It’s concerning* the trouble that’s been on down to the shop, throwin’ )you and the rest of the boys out of work, for the last three months. It’s been a mighty tough winter, and —I know it’s hit you pretty hard, Frank.” “Some one’s been kiddin’ you,” he said, forcing a smile. "I —I’m all hunkydory, even if I ain’t been workin’ for some time. You see, I had a nice little piece of money banked away when the row came. But, anyway, it’s mighty nice of you to drop In and pay an old friend a social call when things ain’t what they ought to be. That’s the only time when you can find out who’s your real friends.” “Yes, I know,” said his caller, feeling his evasivenees, "but I came here today to square myself for a dirty turn I once done you.” The wAan cast a look into tile next room where Maggie’s anemic children lay in bed asleep. Then she said impulsively, firmly: “When Jack died I got S2OO from the insurance company. Frank, there’s po use you tryln’ to bluff me. We’re oldtime friends and can talk right out open and above board. It hurts me to say it, but I know how things stand with you, and that you’re hard-up for fair. So I’ve come to lend you the two hundred until things pick up.” She shoved a package of greenbacks quickly across the table. “You can pay it back when you’re workin’ again.” ‘‘Kit,” choked the man, his eyes blinking, “I hardly know how to thank you. But I’m all right, I ain’t needin’ anything.” “Frank Porter,” she returned, her voice ringing sweetly, "you and me was always good friends, back in the old days. So don’t you eay another word, but just you take this money and use it for yourself and the kids. It’s needed and needed bad. I’m a woman, and I know." “Kittle," he began, his voice husky, "you was always Maggie’s best friend. My poor little kid,” he gulped, blinking painfully, “ehe’s better off now. Kittle you know it ain’t for myself I’m worryin’ about—but for my two little girls. And —since you've been so kind as to want to help me out for a little while, I wouldn't be for imposin’ on you, so—if you don’t mind —I’ll borrow about ten dollars.” “No, no, take it all, Frank; it ain’t no good to me,” she urged, rising quickly. "Good-by and good luck to you.”

“You ain’t goin* so soon, are you, Kittle?” cried the man, checking her at the door. “Why—l—l aln’tjeven had time to have a little talk with you. Stay a while, won’t you?" “Yeth, p’ease stay," .unexpectedly chirped a tot of four years, who had, unseen, crawled out of her warm bed. "Stay—l likes you."

“How’ve the children been?" faltered the woman through misty eyes, kissing a pair of tiny, pouting lips. “Pretty good," returned the father brokenly. "There ain't no one to give them the right kind of attention, although my old mother does the best she can when she can be here. They’re delicate, Just like Maggie was. They qeed a mother's care badly. Seme one —” He stopped abruptly. "Kittle," he went on again In a moment, "you and me and Maggie was always the best of friends, back in the old days. The kids here —Maggie’s own flesh and blood —ain’t got no one to give them the right kind of care. They need some one to be a mother to them." The woman's eyes met those of the man in sudden inquiry. "You—you— you ain’t askin'—F’ "Yes, Kittle." His voice rang manfully, though he brushed a mist from his eyes. "I ask you to promlae to become my wife as soon as I go back to work again." "She said yeth to herself, papa!" cried out the child, Jumping giwtdhlly, hmr-flnoe sadiaut wMb Jog.