Calvary Alley | Page 7

uncle by courtesy, was a boarder by day and a
gate-tender by night at the signal tower at the railroad crossing. On that
day long ago when he had found himself a widower, helpless in the
face of domestic problems, he had accepted Mrs. Snawdor's prompt
offer of hospitality and come across the hall for his meals. At the end of
the week he had been allowed to show his gratitude by paying the rent,
and by the end of the month he had become the chief prop of the family.
It is difficult to conceive of an Atlas choosing to burden himself with
the world, but there are temperaments that seek responsibilities just as
there are those, like Mr. Snawdor, who refuse them.
Through endless discomforts, Uncle Jed had stayed on, coaxing Mr.
Snawdor into an acceptance of his lot, helping Mrs. Snawdor over
financial difficulties, and bestowing upon the little Snawdors the
affection which they failed to elicit from either the maternal or the
paternal bosom. And the amazing thing was that Uncle Jed always
thought he was receiving favors instead of conferring them.
"What's this I hear about my little partner gittin' into trouble?" he asked,
catching Nance's chin in his palm and turning her smudged, excited

face up to his.
Nance's eyes fell before his glance. For the first time since the fight her
pride was mingled with misgiving. But when Mrs. Snawdor plunged
into a fresh recital of the affair, with evident approval of the part she
had played, her self-esteem returned.
"And you say Mason's fixin' to send her up to the juvenile court?"
asked Uncle Jed gravely, his fat hand closing on her small one.
"Dan Lewis has got to go too!" said Nance, a sudden apprehension
seizing her at Uncle Jed's solemn face.
"Oh, they won't do nothin' to 'em," said Mrs. Snawdor, pouring hot
water over the coffee grounds and shaking the pot vigorously.
"Everybody knows it was the Clarke boy that bust the window. Clarke's
Bottle Works' son, you know, up there on Zender Street."
"Was it the Clarke boy and Dan Lewis that started the fracas?" asked
Uncle Jed.
"No, it was me!" put in Nance.
"Now, Nance Molloy, you lemme hear you say that one time more, an'
you know what'll happen!" said Mrs. Snawdor, impressively. "You're
fixin' to make me pay a fine."
"I'm mighty sorry Dan Lewis is mixed up in it," said Uncle Jed, shaking
his head. "This here's his second offense. He was had up last year."
"An' can you wonder?" asked Mrs. Snawdor, "with his mother what she
is?"
"Mrs. Lewis ain't a bad looker," Mr. Snawdor roused himself to
observe dejectedly.
His wife turned upon him indignantly. "Well, it's a pity she ain't as
good as her looks then. Fer my part I can't see it's to any woman's credit
to look nice when she's got the right kind of a switch and a good set of

false teeth. It's the woman that keeps her good looks without none of
them luxuries that orter be praised."
"Mrs. Lewis ain't done her part by Dan," said Uncle Jed, seating
himself at the red-clothed table.
"I should say she ain't," Mrs. Snawdor continued. "I never seen nothin'
more pathetical than that there boy when he was no more than three
years old, a-tryin' to feed hisself outer the garbage can, an' her a comin
an' a goin' in the alley all these years with her nose in the air, too good
to speak to anybody."
"Dan don't think his mother's bad to him," said Nance. "He saved up his
shoe-shine money an' bought her some perfumery. He lemme smell it."
"Oh, yes!" said Mrs. Snawdor, "she's got to have her perfumery, an' her
feather in her hat, an' the whitewash on her face, no matter if Dan's feet
are on the groun', an' his naked hide shinin' through his shirt."
"Well, I wish him an' this here little girl wasn't mixed up in this
business," repeated Uncle Jed. "Courts ain't no place fer children.
Seems like I can't stand fer our little Nance to be mixin' up with shady
characters."
Nance shot an apprehensive glance at him and began to look anxious.
She had never seen Uncle Jed so solemn before.
"You jes' remember this here, Nancy," went on the signalman, who
could no more refrain from pointing a moral when the chance presented
itself, than a gun can help going off when the trigger is pulled; "nothin'
good ever comes from breakin' laws. They wouldn't a-been made into
laws if they wasn't fer our good, an' even when we don't see no reason
in keepin' 'em, we ain't got no more right to break through than one of
them engines up at the crossing's got