s disposition, plus his lovely collar-advertisement hair, she
will say yes. On the sofa, side by side, one light dimly shining, the
nightingale singing in the sycamore tree beside the front window,
their two hearts will beat as one--for the time being. They will eat
the chocolates I packed and life will seem a very sweet and peaceful
thing indeed. Nor will any disturbing notion of how my feet felt ever
reach them, no jarring "you heifer!" float across the states to where
they sit. Louie to them does not exist--Louie, forever on the run
with, "_Louie_, move these trays!" "_Louie_, bottoms!" "_Louie_,
tops!" "_Louie_, cardboards!" "_Louie_, the truck!" "_Louie_, sweep
the floor! How many times I told you that to-day!" "_Louie_, get me a
box a' ca'mels, that's a good dope!" "_Louie_, turn out them lights!"
"_Louie_, turn on them lights!" "_Louie_, ya leave things settin'
round like that!" "_Louie_, where them covers?" and then Louie smashes
his fingers and retires for ten minutes.

Nor is Ida more than a strange name to those two on the sofa. No
echoes reach them of, "Ida, where them wax papers?" "Ida, where's
Fannie?" "Ida, where them picture tops?" "Ida, ain't no more
'coffees.' What'll I use instead?" "Ida! Where's Ida? Mike wants ya by
the elevator." "Ida, I jus' packed sixty; ten sixty-two is my number."
"Ida, Joe says they want 'drops' on the fifth." "Ida, ain't no more
trays." "Ida, gimme the locker-door key. 'M cold--want ma sweater.
(Gee! it 'u'd freeze the stuffin' outa ya in this ice box!)"

Those chocolates appeared in a store window in Watertown, and that's
enough. Not for their moonlit souls the clang of the men building a
new dipper and roller in our room--the bang of the blows of metal on
metal as they pierce your soul along about 5 of a weary afternoon.
Lena's giggles and Ida's "Lee-na, stop your talk and go to work!...
Louie, stop your whistlin'!... My Gawd! girls, don' you know no better
n' to put two kinds in the same box? ... Hey, Lena, this yere
Eyetalian wants somethin'; come here and find out what's ailin'
her.... Fannie, ain't there no more plantations?... Who left that door
open?... Louie, for Gawd's sake how long you gonna take with that
truck?... Lena, stop your talkin' and go to work...."

And 'round here, there, and every place, "My Gawd! my feet are like
ice!" "Say, len' me some of yo'r cardboards--hey?" "You Pearl White
[black as night], got the tops down there?" "Hey, Ida, the Hungarian