The Widow O'Callaghan's Boys Part 23

At the word pudding the faces of Barney and Tommie and Larry, who had come in very hungry, lit up. But at the smell they clouded again. A pudding lost was worse than having no pudding to begin with. For to lose what is within reach of his spoon is hard indeed for any boy to bear.

"And what was it I told you to be cookin' for supper?" asked the widow when they had all sat down to steak and bread and b.u.t.ter, leaving the doors and windows wide open to let out the pudding smoke.

But little Jim did not reply and his downcast look was in such contrast to his erect hair, which no failure of puddings could down, that Pat and Mike burst out laughing. The remembrance of the raisins little Jim had so pompously asked for was upon them, too. And even Mrs. O'Callaghan smiled.

"Was it steak and potatoes I told you to be cookin'?" she persisted.

Little Jim nodded miserably.

"I'll not be hard on you, Jim," said his mother, "for I see you're ashamed of yourself, and you ought to be, too. But I'll say this to you; them that cooks puddin's when they're set to cook steak and potatoes is loike to make a smoke in the world, and do themsilves small credit.

Let's have no more puddin's, Jim, till I give you the word."

That was all there was of it. But Jim had lost his appet.i.te for pudding, and it was long before it returned to him.

CHAPTER XIX

There were three to sit by the kitchen stove now and talk of an evening from half-past nine till ten, and they were the widow and Pat and Mike.

"It's Andy that makes me astonished quite," observed Mrs. O'Callaghan.

"Here it is the first of December and him three months at Gineral Brady's and gettin' fat on it. He niver got fat to home, and that's what bates me."

"Well, mother, he's got a nice big room by himself to sleep in. The Physiology's down on crowding, and five boys in one bedroom ain't good for a nervous boy like Andy."

"Nor it ain't good for the rest of you, nayther," responded Mrs.

O'Callaghan, with conviction.

"What do you say, b'ys? Shall we ask the landlord to put us on another room in the spring? He'll raise the rint on us if he does."

The widow regarded her sons attentively, and they, feeling the proud responsibility of being consulted by their mother, answered as she would have them.

"Then that's settled," said she. "The more room, the more rint. Any landlord can see that--a lawyer, anyway. Do you think, b'ys, Andy'll be a lawyer when he comes from college?"

"Why, mother?" asked Pat.

"'Cause I don't want him to be. He ain't got it in him to be comin' down hard and sharp on folks, and so he won't be a good wan. He'll be at the law loike little Jim at puddin's. You niver was to coort, was you, b'ys?"

Pat and Mike confessed that they had never been at court.

"I knowed you hadn't. I jist asked you. Well, you see, b'ys, them lawyers gets the witnesses up and asks 'em all sorts of impudent questions, and jist as good as tells 'em they lies quite often. Andy couldn't niver do the loikes of that. 'Tain't in him. Do you know, b'ys, folks can't do what ain't in 'em, no matter if they do go to college.

Now little Jim's the wan for a lawyer. He'd be the wan to make a man forget his own name, and all on account of impudent questions."

Pat and Mike looked surprised. They were both fond of little Jim, Mike particularly so.

"I see you wonders at me, but little Jim's a-worryin' me. I don't know what to be doin' with him. B'ys, would you belave it? I can't teach him a thing. Burn the steak he will if I lave him with it, and Moike knows the sort of a bed he makes. He's clane out of the notion of that West P'int and bein' a foightin' man, and the teacher's down on him at the school for niver larnin' his lessons. And the fear's with me night and day that he'll get to be wan of them agitators yet."

Pat and Mike looked at each other. Never before had their mother said a word to them about any of their brothers. And while they looked at each other the brave little woman kept her eyes fixed on the stove.

"The first step to bein' an agitator," she resumed as if half to herself, "is niver to be doin' what you're set to do good. Then, of course, them you work for don't loike it, and small blame to 'em. And the nixt thing is to get turned off and somebody as _will_ do it good put in your place. And then the nixt step is to go around tellin'

iverybody you meets, whether you knows 'em or not, how you're down on your luck. And how it's a bad world with no chance in it for poor folks, when iverybody knows most of the rich folks begun poor, and if there's no chance for poor folks, how comes them that's rich now to be rich when they started poor? And then the nixt step is to make them that's content out of humor, rilin' 'em up with wis.h.i.+n' for what they've got no business with, seein' they hain't earned it. And that's all there is to it, for sure when you've got that far you're wan of them agitators."

The boys listened respectfully, and their mother went on: "Little Jim's got started that way. He's that far along that he don't do nothin' good he's set at only when it's a happen so. You can't depind on him. I've got to head him off from bein' an agitator, for he's your father's b'y, and I can't meet Tim in the nixt world if I let Jim get ahead of me.

B'ys, will you help me? I've always been thinkin' I couldn't have your help; I must do it alone. But, b'ys, I can't do it alone." The little woman's countenance was anxious as she gazed into the sober faces of Pat and Mike.

Nothing but boys themselves, though with the reliability of men, they promised to help.

"I knowed you would," said the widow gratefully. "And now good night to you. It's gettin' late. But you've eased my moind wonderful. Just the spakin' out has done me good. Maybe he'll come through all roight yet."

The next morning Mrs. O'Callaghan rose with a face bright as ever, but Pat and Mike were still sober.

"Cheer up!" was her greeting as they came into the kitchen where she was already bustling about the stove. "Cheer up, and stand ready till I give you the word. I'm goin' to have wan more big try at Jim. You took such a load off me with your listenin' to me and promisin' to help that it's heartened me wonderful."

The two elder sons smiled. To be permitted to hearten their mother was to them a great privilege, and suddenly little Jim did not appear the hopeless case he had seemed when they went to bed the night before. They cheered up, and the three were pleasantly chatting when sleepy-eyed little Jim came out of the bedroom.

"Hurry, now, and get washed, and then set your table," said his mother kindly.

But little Jim was sulky.

"I'm tired of gettin' up early mornin's just to be doin' girl's work,"

he said.

Mrs. O'Callaghan nodded significantly at Pat and Mike. "What was that story, Moike, you was tellin' me about the smartest fellow in the Gineral's mess, before he got to be a gineral, you know, bein' so handy at all sorts of woman's work? Didn't you tell me the Gineral said there couldn't no woman come up to him?"

"I did, mother."

"I call that pretty foine. Beatin' the women at their own work. There was only wan man in the mess that could do it, you said?"

"Yes, mother," smiled Mike.

"I thought so. 'Tain't often you foind a rale handy man loike that. And he was the best foighter they had, too?"

"Yes, mother."

"I thought I remimbered all about it. Jim, here, can foight, but do woman's work he can't. That is, and do it good. He mostly gets the tablecloth crooked. No, he's no hand at the girl's work."

"I'll show you," thought little Jim. On a sudden the tablecloth was straight, and everything began to take its proper place on the table.

"Mother," ventured Pat, though he had not yet received the word, "the table's set pretty good this morning."

"So it is, Pat, so it is," responded the widow glancing it over.

"Maybe Jim can do girl's work after all."

"Maybe he can, Pat, but he'll have to prove it before he'll foind them that'll belave it. That's the way in this world. 'Tis not enough to be sayin' you can do this and that. You've got to prove it. And how will you prove it? By doin' it, of course."