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Updated: May 17, 2025
Kukor's daughter, for "Mama!" cried the young mother; and as they met just in front of Johnnie there was an explosive outburst of talk in a strange tongue, and much of what Johnnie afterwards described to Cis as "double kissin'," that is, a kissing on both cheeks, the baby coming in for his share and weeping over it forlornly. Greeting done, Mrs. Kukor introduced Johnnie.
All he's got is girl's hair!" He started back as if from a blow. Then reaching a quick hand to the sash, he closed the window and stepped down. The voice belonged to a boy who had once charged Mrs. Kukor with going to church on a Saturday. But even as Johnnie left the sill he felt no anger toward the boy save on Mrs. Kukor's account. Because he knew that his hair was like a girl's.
Kukor's prompt answering of it, had often saved Cis and Johnnie from drunken beatings. But now the boy sent no signal. Those big-girl's hands were shaking in spite of all effort to control. His upturned face was a ghastly sallow. The gray eyes were set.
Slung under one arm, she carried a fat baby! and what a rosy, what a spotlessly clean, baby! The baby was Mrs. Kukor's grandson, the lady was Mrs.
"Wait for Algy," returned Cis, crossing to slip an affectionate arm about Mrs. Kukor's shoulders. "And don't fret. Because Algy's the amateur light-heavyweight champion of his club, and it's an athletic club, and !" "What-a-a-at?" roared Father Pat. "He's the he's the oh, say it again!" But even as Cis opened her lips to speak, swift steps were heard on the stairs outside. She knew them.
"Drive her away! the best friend we've ever had!" "You been hidin' these here books for him!" Barber went on, his head still out of the window, so that much of what Cis was saying was lost upon him. "Ja! Ja! Ja! Ja!" "Don't y' yaw me!" But Mrs. Kukor's window had gone down. Now every other window in the neighborhood was up, though the dwellers round about were hidden from sight.
Like her eyes, Mrs. Kukor's lips never rested, going even when she listened, for she had the habit of silently repeating whatever was said. Thus, with lips and eyes busy, head alternately wagging and nodding eloquently, and both hands waving, she was constantly in motion.
"Shure, ma'am," he declared, "our two young folks is likely not t' suffer for lookin' after from now on, I'm thinkin', what with our little League o' Nations." Tears welled into Mrs. Kukor's black eyes. "Over Chonnie und Cis," she declared, "all times I wass full of love. Only" she lifted a short, fat finger "nefer I haf talk my Hebrew religions mit!"
Three sparrows hailed him from the window ledge, shrilly demanding crumbs. Crumbs made him think of Mrs. Kukor's stealthy gift. Sure enough, the yellow bowl held soup. In the soup was spaghetti the wide, ribbony, slippery kind he especially liked, coiled about in a broth which smelled deliciously of garlic.
Then he tapped the basket signal up to Mrs. Kukor's. He had found the bed roll undisturbed, and knew that Big Tom had not discovered his treasures. But he would not take any further chances. When the basket came swinging slowly down, he called a brief explanation to the little Jewish lady. When the basket went up, it swung heavily, for his six precious books were in it.
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