Alice Hegan Rice

“ The wedding night arrived, and the Beaver cottage was filled to suffocation with the elite of Rear Ninth Street. The guests found it difficult to circulate freely in the room on account of the elaborate and aggressive decorations, so they stood in silent rows awaiting the approaching ceremony. As the appointed hour drew near, and none of the groom's family arrived, a few whispered comments were exchanged.
"It's 'most time to begin," whispered the preacher to Mrs. Beaver, whose keen black eyes had been watching the door with growing impatience. ”

“ But Joe was game, and while he determined to keep the matter as secret as possible, he agreed to the boss's proposition.
"You're mighty stingy with yourself these days!" said Mittie Beaver one night a month later, when he stopped on his way to school.
Joe grinned somewhat foolishly. "I come every evenin'," he said.
"For 'bout ten minutes," said Mittie, with a toss of her voluminous pompadour; "there's some wants more'n ten minutes."
"Ben Schenk?" asked Joe, alert with jealousy.
"I ain't sayin'," went on Mittie. "What do you do of nights, hang around the hall?" ”

“ Don't I talk like other fellers, Mittie?"
"You talk better than some," said Mittie loyally.
After he left her, Joe reviewed the matter carefully. He thought of the few educated people he knew—the boss at the shops, the preacher up on Twelfth Street, the doctor who sewed up his head after he stopped a runaway team, even Ben Schenk, who had gone through the eighth grade. Yes, there was a difference. Being clean and wearing good clothes were not the only things. ”

“ The effect of Joe's efforts were prompt and satisfactory. The next day being Sunday, he spent the major part of it in passing and repassing the house on the corner, only going home between times to remove the mud from his shoes and give an extra brush to his hair. The girl, meanwhile, was devoting her day to sweeping off the front pavement, a scant three feet of pathway from her steps to the wooden gate. Every time Joe passed she looked up and smiled, and every time she smiled Joe suffered all the symptoms of locomotor ataxia! ”

“ Joe, with both hands entangled in her veil and his feet lost in her train, looked down at her through swimming eyes.
"Want yer?" he repeated, and his lips trembled, "gee whiz! I feel like I done ribbeted a hoop round the hull world!"
The signal was given for them to enter the parlor, and without further interruption the ceremony proceeded, if not in exact accordance with the plans of Mrs. Beaver, at least in obedience to the mandate of a certain little autocrat who sometimes takes a hand in the affairs of man even in Rear Ninth Street. ”

“ Now, the prospect of going to school to a man who had been head of a family for seven years, who had been the champion scrapper of the South End, who was in the midst of a critical love affair, was trebly humiliating. ”

“ Joe began, then checked himself. "Say, Mittie, why don't yer maw like me?"
"She says you haven't got any school education and don't talk good grammar."
"Don't I talk good grammar?" asked Joe anxiously.
"I don't know," said Mittie; "that's what she says. How long did you go to school?"
"Me? Oh, off and on 'bout two year. The old man was always boozin', and Maw, she had to work out, till me an' the boys done got big enough to work. 'Fore that I had to stay home and mind the kids. ”