"But ye see," he concluded, "I knew at the time that the work would far
outlast the necessity for it, since I'll not be needin' anny teeth very
long"--a statement the full meaning of which fortunately escaped the
comprehension of his two young hearers. "But ye might say," he went on,
"that neither the cake nor the cream have put a strain on that bridge,
so I'll not be blamin' the dentist. For ye see, it's like this: when
I've somethin' betwixt me teeth that's substantial, the danger to the
bridges is far less. It's when I've nothin' that I do them the most
damage, havin' so much grip t' me jaws, and not annything t' work it out
on."

Mrs. Kukor now rose to take her leave, explaining how it happened that
she did not want to have Mr. Barber discover her there, since, if the
longshoreman were to decide that she was interfering in any way--too
much--he might, she feared, remove his household to some other, and
distant, flat, where she could not be near the children--oy! oy! oy!

Father Pat gave her his address. "Some day," he declared, "ye might be
wantin' t' send me a picture post card, in which case ye'd need t' know
where I live"--a remark which made Johnnie believe that the Father must
be particularly fond of picture post cards! "But now and again, I'll
drop in t' see ye," promised the priest, "and t' have a cup o' kosher
tea! Shure, ma'am, in anny troublesome matter, two heads is better than
one, even if one has been gassed!"

Mrs. Kukor gone, Father Pat began to take thought of his own leaving.
But first he set about cheering up his new, young friends, who were
subdued, to say the least, this in spite of the refreshments. "Now,
shure, and there's things about this place which could be far, far
worse," he asserted. "In this shady bit o' flat, ye're shut up, I grant
it. But consider what ye're shut away from--ugly things, like fightin'
and callin' names"--his argument being intended chiefly for Johnnie.

"And I don't mind about my old clothes," declared the latter stoutly.
"Anyhow, I don't mind 'cause they're raggy. All I'm sorry for is that my
rags don't _fit_."

Afterward he concluded that there must have been something rather
sensible about this remark of his--something calculated to win approval.
For the Father suddenly reached out and took Johnnie into his arms, and
gave him a bearish hug, and laughed, and wiped the green eyes (which
were brimming), and laughed again, finally falling into a coughing fit
that s