ly, for he felt that it was degradation for one
who aimed to be some vague soldier, or a man of blood with a sort of
sublime license, to be taken home by a father.

Chapter II

Eventually they entered into a dark region where, from a careening
building, a dozen gruesome doorways gave up loads of babies to the
street and the gutter. A wind of early autumn raised yellow dust from
cobbles and swirled it against an hundred windows. Long streamers of
garments fluttered from fire-escapes. In all unhandy places there were
buckets, brooms, rags and bottles. In the street infants played or
fought with other infants or sat stupidly in the way of vehicles.
Formidable women, with uncombed hair and disordered dress, gossiped
while leaning on railings, or screamed in frantic quarrels. Withered
persons, in curious postures of submission to something, sat smoking
pipes in obscure corners. A thousand odors of cooking food came forth
to the street. The building quivered and creaked from the weight of
humanity stamping about in its bowels.

A small ragged girl dragged a red, bawling infant along the crowded
ways. He was hanging back, baby-like, bracing his wrinkled, bare legs.

The little girl cried out: "Ah, Tommie, come ahn. Dere's Jimmie and
fader. Don't be a-pullin' me back."

She jerked the baby's arm impatiently. He fell on his face, roaring.
With a second jerk she pulled him to his feet, and they went on. With
the obstinacy of his order, he protested against being dragged in a
chosen direction. He made heroic endeavors to keep on his legs,
denounce his sister and consume a bit of orange peeling which he chewed
between the times of his infantile orations.

As the sullen-eyed man, followed by the blood-covered boy, drew near,
the little girl burst into reproachful cries. "Ah, Jimmie, youse bin
fightin' agin."

The urchin swelled disdainfully.

"Ah, what deh hell, Mag. See?"

The little girl upbraided him, "Youse allus fightin', Jimmie, an' yeh
knows it puts mudder out when yehs come home half dead, an' it's like
we'll all get a poundin'."

She began to weep. The babe threw back his head and roared at his
prospects.

"Ah, what deh hell!" cried Jimmie. "Shut up er I'll smack yer mout'.
See?"

As his sister continued her lamentations, he suddenly swore and struck
her. The little girl reeled and, recovering herself, burst into tears
and quaveringly cursed him. As she slowly retreated her brother
a