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Updated: June 26, 2025
He knew that a series of articles on Broster Street would probably be so much dead weight on the paper, something to be skipped by the average reader, but he put the thought aside. "Very well," he said. "If you care to turn in a few crisp remarks on the subject, I'll print them." Betty's first instalment was ready on the following morning. It was a curious composition.
"But you can't do anything." "Why not?" cried Betty. "Oh, why not? Surely you couldn't have a better subject for your series? It's wicked. People only want to be told about them to make them better. Why can't we draw attention to them?" "It's been done already. Not about Broster Street, but about other tenements. Tenements as a subject are played out. The public isn't interested in them.
'Well, he's rich, and good-looking, and amiable' Cynthia ticked off these qualities on her fingers 'and I think he's brave, and he's certainly not so stupid as Mr Broster. 'And you're very much in love with him? 'I like him. There's no harm in Peter. 'You certainly aren't wildly enthusiastic! 'Oh, we shall hit it off quite well together. I needn't pose to you, Nesta, thank goodness!
There are reasons why he would prefer not to have it made too public that he's the owner of the tenements down there." "Well, he knows what to do. If he makes Broster Street fit for a not-too-fastidious pig to live in " Mr. Parker coughed. A tentative cough, suggesting that the situation was now about to enter upon a more delicate phase. "Now, see here, sir," he said, "I'm going to be frank.
It's the darned Wild West strain in him coming out. He used to do those sort of things out there, and he's forgotten his manners. I pay him well, and I guess he thinks that's the way it's up to him to earn it. You mustn't mind Parker." "Oh, well! So long as he means well !" said John. "I've no grudge against Parker. I've settled with him." "Well, then, what about this Broster Street thing?
Well, Smith told me of the alterations in Peaceful Moments, and I saw that it was just the thing for me. And it has occupied my mind quite some. To think of you being the writer of those Broster Street articles! You certainly have started something, Betty! Goodness knows where it will end. I hoped to have brought off a coup this afternoon, but the arrival of Sam and his friends just spoiled it."
"Well, come along with me and introduce me, and I'll look after that." At half-past five John closed the office for the day, and, armed with a big stick and conducted by Master Maloney, made his way to Broster Street. To reach it, it was necessary to pass through a section of the enemy's country, but the perilous passage was safely negotiated. The expedition reached its unsavory goal intact.
I expect you used to be splendid at football, like Mr Broster. I did not reply at once. I cannot wrap up the deeper emotions and put them back on their shelf directly I have no further immediate use for them. I slowly adjusted myself to the new key of the conversation. 'Who's Broster? I asked at length. 'He used to be tutor to' she turned me round and pointed 'to that.
He did not add that he had spent a week's salary that night, buying ice and distributing it among the denizens of Broster Street. "It's an awful place," said Betty, her eyes filling with tears. "Those poor children!" Smith nodded. "Some of those tenement houses are fierce," he said thoughtfully. Like Betty, he found himself with a singularly clear recollection of his one visit to Broster Street.
It is true that he may have forgotten, or it may be that it is to Comrade Brown alone that he is " "Who's Brown?" asked John. "Our late stenographer," explained Smith. "A Miss Brown. She entertained Comrade Jarvis' cat, if you remember. I wonder what has become of her. She has sent in three more corking efforts on the subject of Broster Street, but she gives no address.
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