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The book was The People of the Abyss, by Jack London, which Mamie Magen had given to Una as an introduction to a knowledge of social conditions. Una had planned to absorb it; to learn how the shockingly poor live. Now she read the first four pages to Mr. Schwirtz. After each page he said that he was interested. At the end of the fourth page, when Una stopped for breath, he commented: "Fine writer, that fella London. And they say he's quite a fella; been a sailor and a miner and all kinds of things; ver' intimate friend of mine knows him quite well met him in 'Frisco and he says he's been a sailor and all kinds of things. But he's a socialist. Tell you, I ain't got much time for these socialists. Course I'm kind of a socialist myself lots-a ways, but these here fellas that go around making folks discontented ! Agitators ! Don't suppose it's that way with this London he must be pretty well fixed, and so of course he's prob'ly growing conservative and sensible. But most of these socialists are just a lazy bunch of bums that try and see how much trouble they can stir up. They think that just because they're too lazy to find an opening, that they got the right to take the money away from the fellas that hustle around and make good. Trouble with all these socialist guys is that they don't stop to realize that you can't change human nature. They want to take away all the rewards for initiative and enterprise, just as Sam Cannon was saying. Do you s'pose I'd work my head off putting a proposition through if there wasn't anything in it for me? Then, 'nother thing, about all this submerged tenth these 'People of the Abyss, and all the rest: I don't feel a darn bit sorry for them. They stick in London or New York or wherever they are, and live on charity, and if you offered 'em a good job they wouldn't take it. Why, look here! all through the Middle West the farmers are just looking for men at three dollars a day, and for hired girls, they'd give hired girls three and four dollars a week and a good home. But do all these people go out and get the jobs? Not a bit of it! They'd rather stay home and yelp about socialism and anarchism and Lord knows what-all. 'Nother thing: I never could figger out what all these socialists and I.
Lenore waited for him at the step, and as he mounted the porch, burdened by the three girls, his anxious, sadly smiling wife came out to make perfect the welcome home. No not perfect, for Anderson's joy held a bitter drop, the absence of his only son! "Oh, dad, what-all did you fetch me?" cried Kathleen, and she deserted her father for the bundle-laden Jake. "And me!" echoed Rose.
"We must make out to stop that there hoss-galloper at the ford and find out what-all he's a rip-snorting that-away for." The road crossing of the stream was but a little way above our breakfast camp; and we were out of the thicket in time to see the horseman, a negro clinging with locked arms to the neck of his mount, come tearing down to the ford.
"Falconnet!" said he, by way of tail-piece to the oath; and I nodded. "'Twas that there same hoss-captain, sure enough, ez I reckon," drawled Yeates. "Maybe one o' you two can tell what-all he mought be a-driving at." Jennifer shook his head, and I, too, was silent.
She nodded, adding: "But that didn't make no differ'; I had to come anyway. He run me out, paw did." "Heavens!" ejaculated Tom, prickling now with a new sensation. "And you haven't any place to stay?" She shook her head. "No. I was allowin' maybe your paw'd let me sleep where you-uns keep the hawsses jest for a little spell till I could make out what-all I'm goin' to do."
Becky, I promise to help you. But suppose Zalie, should she have a child, refused to give it up?" Becky's face quivered. "She won't las', Zalie won't." The stricken voice was as confident as if Zalie already lay dead. "Zalie ain't got stayin' powers, she ain't. She don have fever an' what-all an' she won't las' long she'll go on The Ship!
Then Pettigrass said: "Allowin' ther' might be another man, Tom-Jeff, jest for the sake of argyment, what-all was you aimin' to do if you found him?" It was drawing on to dusk, and the electric lights of Mountain View Avenue and the colonial houses were twinkling starlike in the blue-gray haze of the valley.
"The fifteenth," said Caleb; smoking reflectively through another long pause before he added. "And then come the business fireworks. Have you made up your mind what-all you're goin' to do, Buddy?" "Oh, yes," said Tom, as if this were merely a matter in passing. "We'll consolidate the two plants and the coal-mine, if it's agreeable all around." The iron-master took a fresh hitch in his chair.
"Well, there'll be a dance one of these days next summer in the Town Hall, and maybe you'll meet some of those rough-necks. You'll change your mind about them. Why, I'd sooner dance with a sheep-herder from beyond the bad-lands, or with one of the hands from the oil-fields, than with those Hidden Creek fellows. Horse-thieves and hold-ups and Lord knows what-all they are. No account runaways.
The qualifying clause was not thrown away upon the senator. "What-all has the daughter got against you, son?" he asked mildly. "Nothing very serious," said Patricia's lover, with a laugh which was little better than a grimace. "It's merely that she is jealous of any one who tries to share her father with her. Next to her career "
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