picked him up by his socks
and rattled the sticky sweet out of the child's larynx, and the cat
finished it.

Tony's foreman was asked in to have supper and a late cup of coffee, and
Miss Cora Kenny, whom "Pop" had sent to the Troy convent the first week
of Antony's appearance in the Gents' Boarding and Lodging House, came
home for a Catholic holiday, and she helped her mother. They made
macaroni for Tito Falutini--"high Falutini," as Mrs. Kenny called him.
The name stuck, and the macaroni stuck as well, fast to the plate; but
the Italian, in bashful gratitude, his eyes suffused with smoke and
tears, ate gratefully, gesticulating his satisfaction, and Cora Kenny
studied him from the stove where she slaved to tempt the appetites of
Fairfax and his friend.

Fairfax was proud of Falutini: he was not an ordinary acquaintance; he
sang after supper, standing stiffly in a corner of the kitchen, his red
shirt well opened at the throat, and his moustache like black velvet
above his red lips.

"He sings betther than the theayter, Misther Fairfax," Mr. Kenny said;
"it makes yer eyes thrick ye," and blew his nose, and Cora asked the
singer softly if he could give them "When the band begins to play," or
"Gallagher's Daughter Belle." Tito smiled hopefully, and when Fairfax
laughingly translated, assured Cora Kenny by means of Fairfax again,
that if determination could make a man learn a foreign song, he would
sing her "Gallagher's Daughter Belle" next Saturday night.

"Ah," she breathed, "she'd not be home then!"

"No," said Kenny, who was a lazy husband but a remarkable father, "that
she _wud_ not!"

The Italian fireman and the Irish lodging-house keeper's daughter gazed
in each other's eyes. "Gallagher's Daughter Belle" ... dum ... dum ...
Fairfax hummed it, he knew it. Kenny's daughter Cora--_that_ would be
more to the point: and he thought of Molly. He had not seen her since he
had kissed her a fortnight before. Cora said she had never been bold
before, had never let herself think how jealous she was, but to-night
Mr. Tito High-Falutini's eyes made her a new woman. Cora said to her
mother over her shoulder--

"Shure, Molly Shannon's the onlucky gurl."

"How's that, Cora?"

"Lost her job."

"No!" exclaimed Mrs. Kenny, sympathetically, "and with what doin'?"

Shure, the foreman's daughter was a chum with Cora. The boss had made
the girl prisents of collars, and it seemed, so Bridget said--Cora with
exquisite subtlety