The Nine-Tenths Part 19

"How old?"

"Two."

"She's a darling! What's her name?"

"Name's Annie."

"Named after you?"

"Sure!"

"You wouldn't mind if I gave her a peppermint to suck?"

"Would you mind some candy, Annie?"

"_Candy_!" shrieked the child.

Joe dove into his bulging pocket and produced a good hard white one.

Annie s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and sucked joyously.

"Thank the man, Annie."

"Thank you."

"Is this your only one, Mrs.--"

"Ca.s.sidy's my name! No, I've buried two others."

"From this house?"

"No, we keep movin'--" Mrs. Ca.s.sidy laughed a little.

Joe made a grim face.

"Jump your rent, eh?"

Mrs. Ca.s.sidy shrugged her shoulders.

"What can poor people do?"

"But hasn't Mr. Ca.s.sidy a job?"

"He has when he has it--but it's b.u.m work. Slave like a n.i.g.g.e.r and then laid off for six months, maybe."

"What kind of work is that?"

"'Longsh.o.r.e--he's a 'longsh.o.r.eman."

"And when he's unemployed you have a hard time, don't you?"

"Hard?" Mrs. Ca.s.sidy's voice broke. "What can we do? There's the insurance every week--fifteen cents for my man, ten cents for me, and five cents for Annie. We couldn't let that go; it's buryin'-money, and there ain't a Ca.s.sidy isn't going to have as swell a funeral as any in the ward. And then we've got to live. I've found one thing in this world--the harder you work the less you get."

Joe spoke emphatically.

"Mrs. Ca.s.sidy, when your husband's out of work, through no fault of his own, he ought to get a weekly allowance to keep you going."

"And who's to give it to him?"

"Who? Do you know what they do in Germany?"

"What do they do in Germany?"

"They have insurance for the unemployed, and when a man's out he gets so-and-so-much a week. We ought to have it in America."

"How can we get it? Who listens to the poor?"

"Your man belongs to a union, doesn't he?"

"Sure!"

"Well, the trouble is our people here don't know these things. If they knew them, they'd get together and make the bosses come round. It's ignorance holding us all back."

"I've often told Tim he ought to study something. There's grand lectures in the schools every Tuesday and Thursday night. But Tim don't put stock in learning. He says learning never bought a gla.s.s of beer."

Joe laughed.

"Mrs. Ca.s.sidy, that's not what I mean. Listen. I'm a neighbor of yours--live next door--"

"Sure! Didn't I see you move in? When my friend, Mrs. Leupp, seen your iron beds, she up and went to Macy's and bought one herself. What yer doing in there, anyway, with that printing-press? It gives me the trembles."

Joe laughed heartily.

"You feel the press in this house?"

"First time, I thought it was an earthquake, Mr. Blaine."

Joe was abashed.

"How'd you know my name?"

"Ast it off your landlady."

"Well, you're wrong--I'm Mr. Joe."

Mrs. Ca.s.sidy was hugely amused.

"You're one grand fellow, let me tell you. But, oh, that black, thin one--he's creepy, Mr. Joe. But your mother--she's all right. I was telling Mrs. Rann so myself."

Joe sighed tragically.