mells--beer,
garlic, tobacco, perfumes, kerosene.

Tony charged in from the kitchen with a bottle of beer but Terry shook
his head. Tony was hospitably insistent, "What! No beer?"

"No thanks, Tony."

"What's matt'? Bad stomach?"

"Yes," smiled Terry, "call it that."

He plunged into the business in hand. "Tony, what's the trouble here
to-night?"

Tony's first word of explanation was instantly submerged beneath a
chorus of voices; the excited crowd surged around Terry, as voluble of
gesture as of tongue. Pandemonium descended.

Terry finally silenced the din by standing on his chair and
pantomiming his desire to be heard. "Now, listen to me," he began,
after quiet was restored, "I'm going to ask you all to keep silent,
and to promise me that no one will speak except those I call by name."
They all promised--each one not once but in a series of lengthy
assurances which he had to raise his hand to cut short.

"Now, Tony, you first. What's the matter?"

Tony's face registered his utter disgust. "What'sa matt'? What'sa
matt'? Evra teeng 'sa matt'! Tommor' we christen our bab' and evra'
bod' want a name heem!" He glared at the restless circle which ringed
them.

The odd wistful twist at the corner of Terry's mouth disappeared for a
moment in his slow smile; this was so like these people, who bore big
troubles stoically and reacted powerfully to inconsequentials.

He called on several others. All were relatives of Tony or of his
wife; sisters, brothers, several "in-laws," Tony's father, two uncles.
Each had his or her name for the child, and sound reasons for the
choice.

"Tony, where is Felice?" he asked, noting that Tony's wife was not in
the crowded dining room.

Tony took him into a dimly lighted room, where his wife lay in bed;
the guiltless cause of all this dissension, obviously inured to
clamor, was asleep in her arm. She smiled up at Terry as he sat down
on the edge of the bed and took her hand.

Tony stood looking down at Felice and their first-born, his heart in
his eyes.

"Tony, what does Felice wish to name your son?" Terry asked suddenly.

Receiving no answer, he looked up at Tony and read in the agonized
contrition of Tony's dark face that she had not yet been consulted.
Tears glistened in the forgiving eyes Felice turned on Tony, and as he
flung himself down at the side of the bed and buried his face in her
pillow, Terry tiptoed out of the room and softly closed the door.

In a few minu