her time would come. She would holler from the
pains, as if she couldn't stand them. And then, in a
lot of pain, and blood, and mess, the kid would
come. And here it was, and it fed at her breast, and
slowly grew, laughed, cried, learned to walk and
talk, and who its papa and mama were, and its bro-
thers and sister, and it became a person not like any
other person in all the world. It grew up, went to
school, learned, to read, became a man, or a woman,
and then ....
He had been a kid like this, a sleeping
little buggar without a care in the world except his
mother's tits. And from all this beautiful innocence,
he had grown up, walked through muck and Christ
what else, and ...
"Well, Lizz, when the little bugger grows up, she
won't have it as hard as her old man and her old
lady," he said reflectively.
"She'll live off the fat of the land. She'll have
rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes," Lizz
said.
Jim's eyes again travelled to the kitchen window.
Outside, over the shacks, above the alley, beyond
Wentworth Avenue, the sky was lighting. An ink
of colors was dripping through the mist, and clouds,
and receding darkness.
There were irregular red
streaks, deep dyed reds, and rich dark pinks, and
the sun was coming out. The break of day, now
that too, like kids, that was something wonderful.
God has certainly made a 'wonderful world for man,
if
man would only take advantage of it, and bring
some justice into it. But he had to be up and out to
work. He didn't have time to sit here dreaming and
thinking.
"Old man O'Neill, you better be hustling if you
want to punch that time clock on time, and not be
docked," Lizz said.
"1'
cs, I guess so," Jim said.
"Here, let me take my little precious angel back
now," Lizz said, and Jim carefully but awkwardly
handed the infant back to his wife.
"Mama, is breakfast ready?" Little Margaret
called.
"Now here comes the regiment," Lizz said.
Jim kissed Lizz.
"Take care of yourself, Jim."
"Yes and you too, rabbit," Jim said picking up
his lunch bundle.
"vVe'll be here waiting with supper on .the table
when daddy comes marching home," Lizz said.
"Mama!" Little Margaret called.
"Hello there. How's the man this morning?"
Jim said, seeing Dennis standing sleepily at the kit-
chen entrance, barefooted and in dirty underwear.
"Hello Papa
I"
Dennis said.
"1'
ou little stinker in your bare feet. Go put your
shoes on before you catch pneumonia," Liz·z said.
"Come on, and your old man will cary you back
to get dressed," said Jim.
He put Dennis on his shoulders.
20
"Papa's my horse," Dennis giggled as Jim jogged
him back to the front bedroom where he, Robert,
and Little Margaret slept.
"Kiss me, Papa
I"
Little Margaret called from
the dark and airless bedroom.
Jim dumped Dennis on the bed. He picked Little
Margaret up, and took her breath away by swing-
ing up high over his head. He kissed her.
"Whose princess are you?" he asked as he set
her back on the bed.
"Papa's," she said breathlessly.
"vVho do you love best in the world?"
"My Papa. And he's going to swing me agam.
Isn't he?"
"Papa has to go to work now."
"Aw gee, just once more?"
He swung her, and she giggled.
"Stop crying, you bawl baby!" Little Margaret
said as Robert cried, watching his father and sister
hopefully, his eyes shining in the darkness.
Jim swung Robert, kissed him, tossed him gently
back onto the bed.
"You kids mind your mother now," he said.
"I will. But Papa, I have a most awful time with
these bad boys," Little Margaret said.
"You be their little mother," Jim said, his voice
cracked with emotion.
"See, Dennis, Papa said'you got to mind me, and
you
too, Robert, you little stinker," Little Margaret
said.
Jim went to his room, got his coat, put on his
thick, squarn~.topped teamster's 'cap, and slowly
walked out of the house to go to work.
Two Poems
Transfer
I
It must have been that the nigger was tongue-tied,
Or absent minded, or daft with the heat,
But howsoeverbeit he didn't say sir,
So they took and bounced him out on the street.
And then the motorman brained him with his crank,
And the conductor clubbed him with his gun,
But before they could place the nickles on his eyes,
The cops rushed up to see justice done.
The city-court judge was merciful to him:
Gave him just four years and suspended his fine,
For bruising white knuckles, inciting to riot,
And holding up traffic on the Peachtree line.
When the boy came to, he was still right skittish,
They figured they had got him rid of his harm,
OCTOBER,
1936
