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A certain group made up of Socialists, Free Thinkers, parlour anarchists, bolshevists, had for years drifted there for talk. Old man Minick learned high-sounding phrases. "The Masters ... democracy ... toil of the many for the good of the few ... the ruling class ... free speech ... the People...." The strong-minded ones held forth.
Drexel 47 wait a min't' yeh that's right Drexel 473 " "Swell chanst," said Nick. Suddenly his buoyancy was gone. His shoulders drooped. His cigarette dangled limp. Disappointment curved his lips, burdened his eyes. "Swell chanst!" His wife had always spoiled him outrageously. No doubt of that. Take, for example, the matter of the pillows merely. Old man Minick slept high.
You could have ours and we'd move back here, only this room's too small for twin beds and the dressing table and the chiffonier." They had meant it or meant to mean it. "This is fine," old man Minick had said. "This is good enough for anybody." There was a narrow white enamel bed and a tiny dresser and a table.
He actually waited for her appearance above the laundry stairs. "Weh, how's Mist' Minick to-day! Ah nev' did see a gemun spry's you ah fo' yo' age. No, suh! nev' did." At this rare praise he would straighten his shoulders and waggle his head. "I'm worth any ten of these young sprats to-day." Canary would throw back her head in a loud and companionable guffaw.
There isn't room. And we can't afford a bigger place now, with rents what they are. This way it wouldn't be fair to the child. We've talked it over, George and I. Don't you suppose? But not as long as Father Minick is with us. I don't mean we'd use the maid's room for a for the if we had a baby. But I'd have to have someone in to help, then, and we'd have to have that extra room."
Now and then he chuckled, to Nettie's infinite annoyance, though she said nothing. "Wanted to marry me!" he said to himself, chuckling. "Wanted to marry me! The old rip!" At the end of April, Pa Minick discovered Washington Park, and the Club, and his whole life was from that day transformed. He had taken advantage of the early spring sunshine to take a walk, at Nettie's suggestion.
This she would eat while old man Minick guiltily supped up his cup of warmed-over broth, or his coddled egg. She always pressed upon him any bit of cold meat that was left from the night before, or any remnants of vegetable or spaghetti. Often there was quite a little fleet of saucers and sauce plates grouped about his main plate.
Old man Minick came over to her and patted her plump arm. Then he pinched her smooth cheek with a quizzical thumb and forefinger. Pinched it and shook it ever so little. "I don't know what you mean," said Nettie, out of breath. "Yes, you do," said old man Minick, and while his tone was light and jesting there was in his old face something stern, something menacing. "Yes, you do."
Then there was the window. Ma Minick liked it open wide. In the folds of its sable mantle lurked a swarm of dread things colds, clammy miasmas, fevers. "Night air's just like any other air," Ma Minick would say, with some asperity. Ma Minick was no worm; and as modern as he. So when they went to bed the window would be open wide.
After it was all over: "But I was going first," old man Minick said, dazedly. The old house on Ellis near Thirty-ninth was sold for what it would bring. George, who knew Chicago real-estate if any one did, said they might as well get what they could. Things would only go lower. You'll see. And nobody's going to have any money for years. Besides, look at the neighbourhood!
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