The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1896-01-11
Selected Story.
TEDDY LAFFERTY'S NEW
SUIT.
BY HELEN T. CLARK


TIME Laffertys were very aristo-
/ cratic in one respect. They dined
at when there was anything to
dine upon. They might also be said
to belong to high life in another
sense, as they lived up five flights of
exceedingly dirty stairs in tenement
on Castaway Street. When Mrs.
Bridget Lafferty had finished her
days washing or ironing or house
cleaning, as the case might be, she re-
ceived from "the quality" her slender
wages and made her curtsey and her
exit. On the way home she made
such small purchases of provisions as
would tide the family over till the
next evening. Ii there was no work
ahead for the morrow, they lived on
meal and molasses till the work
came.
"They" comprised Mrs. Lafferty
and Ted, her little crippled boy of
ten. There had been a Mr.. Lafferty
once when Ted was baby, but it had
been still "harder lines" for Mrs.
Biddy when he used to come home
drunk and nearly bearly beat the life
out of her, beside smashing the
dishes, throwing the fiatirons out of
the window, and executing various
other graceful little gambols. Now,
even il the larder were sometimes
we'll nigh empty, terror was not add
ed to hunger, for Mr.. Lafferty had
taken himself off to parts unknown.
One stormy winter day Ted was
very lonely. His mother had been
gone since early morning, and after
he had limped around to do up the
little bit of house work, time hung
heavy on his hands. His lunch had
been three crackers and saucer of
dry oatmeal, for neighbours cat had
knocked over the tiny pitcher of milk
at the door where the milkman had
left it in the early morning while Ted
was still asleep. Fortunately she had
not broken the pitcher. Ted could
do without the milk bravely, but the
loss of the pitcher would have grieved
his loving little heart for his mothers
sake. He leaned on his small crutch
at the window, and gazed out on the
fast-darkening streets. He watched
the hazy, star like glimmers starting
out on the dusk, one by one, as the
lamplighter hurried along with his
ladder. The court where Ted and his
mother lived had not yet attained to
the dignity of electric lights.
Then Ted began his "What-if'
game. Every evening, before his
mothers return, he amused himself by
imagining the nice things he would
do for the people who passed along
the court if he were so rich that he
could not possibly spend more than
half his income.
"What if that poor girl with the
big bundle had been sewing all day,
with only one little cup of tea and
two crusts of dry bread for her din
ner, and what if her lamp had gone
out before she could finish the last
button holes in the coats that she
must carry to the shop. | would go
in and surprise her with two big
handsome lamps and all the wax
candles she could use in ten years,
and I'd have a man behind me carry
ing in a great keg of the best oil.
And I'd tell her she needn't make
coats for that shop any more; she
could do plain sewing for my family
at $40 week. And I'd ask my wife,
if | had one, to send her nothing but
nice easy sheets and table.cloths to
hem.
"What if that little ragged girl
with the broken nosed pitcher were
going for beer, and what if a great
rough man should push her, and
knock the pitcherout of erhand and
break it, so that shewould cry bitter
", and be afraid her father would