The daily morning journal and courier., 1907-10-24
NEW HAVEN MORNING JOURNAL COURIER THURSDAY 2 9o7

stood plung1ng her smooth arms mo the suds. strengthening up to wiring by hand, and shaking out each. fresh garment with increasing satisfaction in her face. By the time her work was done, the hope of Toms home coming had revived as fresh and strong as ever in her heart.
 The next morning was vital with spring, fit time for the revival of nat ure, ambition, and hope.
 Grove street had its windows open, Its furniture on the plazzas and it's clothes-lines weighted with oriental rugs. In one of its houses Maggie Egan was on her knees. For years she had knelt there as regularly as at church, and l doubt if she applied herself more heartily to her rosary than to her foor-eloth. Whenever Mrs, Norton came to inspect the work that day she reveled in the spectacle of Maggie's broad capable back, just as expressive of energy and stability of character as the womans face,
 At evening, when Maggie came for her pay, Mrs. Norton was suddenly struck with the pathos in her look Relaxed, after hard days work, it revealed plainly the anxious heart What could be the trouble? Mrs. Nor ton had always regarded Maggie's lot as comparatively comfortable and promising. Boundless health and joy in work kept her income sufficient; her home, if rather comfortless, was snug and clean; she so seldom re- ferred to her husband, whom Mrs Norton knew to be away most of the time, that she did not think of his play Ing any part in her life. The bring ing up of Patsy was some cause for anxiety especially with the prospect of heredity from such a father, but Maggie had but one child when other women had five or six. Moreover, not only did Maggie never complain, but she always struck a distinctly cheerful chord, in sharp contrast to the minor tone of the others whose lives Mrs. Norton tried to elevate.
 But as Maggie waited in the spring twilight, with soft twittering of birds coming in at the window and fragrant air stirring the curtains, Mrs. Nor ton fumbled in her purse and wonder ed. To question Maggie required ten- derness and tact, Not everyone could have done 1t. But Mrs, Norton loved her and drew out her trouble.
 So it was Tom. He was on her mind. She missed him. She counted loss what many a wife would have thought herself we'll rid of A faint color stole into Maggie's cheeks as she dilated upon Toms merits. Hes the smartest man you ever saw to work. He can earn his three dollars day any time. An he never give me blow or cross word except he'd be dhrunk Sure, Toms the fine man altogether, you understhan'; it's the dhrink that has him desthroyed. An even that wouldn't make him bad tempered If he didn't get to much of it." She recalled how many a time, when she had come home from work she had found himself sated forninst the stove, wid Patsy on one side an a pail O beer on the other. an How dlC yOuy NAaB6ASs llAS 0ebA AlALs
 The mere talk about Tom, the re- velation of her absolute devotion to him, brought back the cheer and de- termination to Maggie's face.
 When she had gone, Mrs. Norton fell into a revery, Maggie's fidelity would have seemed incredible, had not her knowledge of the human heart long ago taught her that wom- ans love, like the pine tree which sprawls It's roots over the bare rock and lifts it's sturdy trunk unnourlshed, drinks deep from invisible wells and fourishes best where it has nothing to feed upon. Theoretically she hoped that Tom had gone for good. Drunk enness and shiftessness could never bring Maggie anything but sorrow. however deluded she might be. But when she reused herself from her thoughts, she was shocked to discover that as a matter of fact she had been wishing Tom at home, good-for-noth- ign as he was, and had been taking genuine satisfaction in the wife's joy in assuming any burdens that love for her husband might lay upon her.
 Maggie's thoughts, as was usual when she turned her face homeward. were on Tom. With no very good req son, she felt strangely hopeful to- night. Now and then she would speak aloud, and frequent smiles came and went on her face, "Tm just poor fool to be thinktn it at all," she said to herself, "wid ne'er a word out O his head this good phile, but wouldn't It be the odd thing, now If I'd find him in it the night? I've a great notion to bring bit O bacon wid me against he'd be there. 'Twould make the fine supper wid this bowl O sour milk that cook O Nor tons strongly intinded to cast if l din't take it off her"
 She bought the bacon from a butch ers counter that extended to the side walk. Pausing a moment on a bright street corner to adjust these supplies under her shawl, she caught a whiff, savory and warm, from a glass show case on wheels. Inside; darting flame lighted soft, snowwhite pyra- mid and a row of bags. They were stuffed to bursting with their top cor ners twisted as erect and alert as a fox terriers ears. Outside stood a slip of a boy, about the size of Patsy, his hands in his pockets, his round cap pushed we'll back, his nose, which barely reached high enough, flattened against the glass. The popcorn man surveyed the twilight scene over the top of the showcase. Maggie in vested in two warm bags, Here now thin!" she said to the youngster as she trust one toward him. The