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At last he had a man of "intilligence," as he would have expressed it. He flung a parting shot though at his superior as Eugene departed. "Tell thim I'll sign fer thim when I git thim and naat before!" he rumbled. Eugene laughed. He knew no such message would be accepted, but he was glad to give Deegan an opportunity to blow off steam.
I think it was about the same time that we pulled off the plaster from the living-room ceiling and left the exposed beams old hewn timbers which we tinted down with a dull stain. William Deegan and I stained those beams together, and our friendship ripened during that employment.
That night he went home to Angela full of the humor and romance of his new situation. He liked the idea of it. He wanted to tell her about Deegan to make her laugh. He was destined unfortunately to another kind of reception. For Angela, by this time, had endured the agony of her discovery to the breaking point.
Haverford to transfer me to you, if you'll let me come," he said at the close of the day when Deegan was taking off his overalls and the "Eyetalians," as he called them, were putting the things back in the car. "Shewer!" said Deegan, impressed by the great name of Haverford. If Eugene could accomplish that through such a far-off, wondrous personality, he must be a remarkable man himself.
"Shewer, I have to be theyre," he had replied with his quizzical Irish grin. "They're not payin' me me wages fer lyin' in bed. If ye were to get up that way every day fer a year it would make a man of ye!" "Oh, no," said Eugene teasingly. "Oh, yes," said Deegan, "it would. An' yere the wan that's needin' it. I can tell that by the cut av ye." Eugene resented this but it stayed by him.
There came to the shop one day an Irish foreman, Timothy Deegan, master of a score of "guineas," as he called the Italian day laborers who worked for him, who took Eugene's fancy greatly. He was of medium height, thick of body and neck, with a cheerful, healthy red face, a keen, twinkling gray eye, and stiff, closely cropped gray hair and mustache.
We could have them for fifty cents each. It seemed an opportunity. William Deegan was instructed to prepare the neat inclosure, which he did with enthusiasm, William being enamoured of anything that was alive. The man who had been called away had made a poor count of his flock. He arrived with nearly twice as many as he said, but we were in the mood by that time, and took over the bunch.
It was nice enough when the weather was fine to stand out under the trees, where some culvert was being built to bridge a small rivulet or some well to supply the freight engines with water, and survey the surrounding landscape; but when the weather grew colder it was not so nice. Deegan was always interesting. He was forever raising a ruction.
Once in a while he would interpolate a "Come, Matt!" in a softer key a key so soft that it was entirely out of keeping with his other voice. Eugene saw it all clearly. He understood Deegan. "I think I'll get Mr.
There was no malice in it. Deegan did not underestimate these Italians. He liked his men, but they weren't white. He didn't know what they were exactly, but they weren't white. He was standing over them a moment later shouting, "Up with it! Up with it! Down with it!
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