Jerrys Reward | Page 4

also disliked their name for him; for his real name was Jerry, not
Paddy at all. He could not help telling his Peggy about it, especially
when they had been unusually thoughtless and teasing.
It was after one of such times that he said to her: "I think I'll have a
little speech with 'em. I'll tell 'em that far from wanting to hurt 'em, I'll
be their friend if they'll let me."
"Do, lovey," replied Mrs. Peggy, "for I'm hatin' to have 'em misjudge
you."
So the very next day he pretended to be raking and sifting until they
came nearer and nearer shouting their jibes and their jeers, when he
quickly turned around and facing them began his speech:

"Don't fear me, chil--" was all the further he got when the rosy cheeks
became as white as sheets and such scampering and rushing over one
another you never saw in all your life.
After that it was three whole days before a single one of them was bold
enough to come even in sight when he was bending over his work, and
he missed them so that he resolved never to attempt any conversation
with them again as long as he lived.
CHAPTER IV.
HARD TIMES
Things went on in this manner for some time. Then the hot summer
was over and the green leaves died and fell to the ground with a rustle.
All the children except the babies started to school. It became too cold
to play out-of-doors in the afternoon, and soon the days got so short
that there were no afternoons, and the children forgot it ever had been
summer at all.
If a body had not already known it, he would never have guessed that
the row of houses on one side of Jefferson Square contained
twenty-eight children toasting their toes by blazing fires.
We should say twenty-one, for the entire family of outcasts had moved
from the square to a more congenial neighbourhood, and Mrs. Paddy
lost the only friends she had. Instead of the bright faces smiling and
nodding to her every time they went in or out the front door, an ugly
white card, with "For Rent" in big black letters, stared at her all day,
reminding her sadly of the friends who were gone.
[Illustration: "ALL THE CHILDREN EXCEPT THE BABIES
STARTED TO SCHOOL."]
Paddy noticed her looking a little forlorn one morning, so he said:
"The cold weather doesn't agree with you, Peggy; there's too much air
coming through the window cracks. I'll just move your chair away from

it, and as close to the fire as may be."
He had to leave her alone a great deal those days, for bread was high
and work scarce. To get either, a man had to start early so as to be
handy for any odd jobs that came his way.
Peggy was sometimes so lonely that she missed even the naughty
children, for in summer when they played on the common she could
hear their young voices and it was company for her. Now all she could
see was a bare brown waste with never a child in sight.
When Paddy was there bending over his ash heaps she didn't care, for
every little while he would look up from his work, and wave his hand,
and that was all she wanted.
Things got very desperate with the Paddys. Money became so scarce
that they couldn't buy coal, but had to use half-burned cinders from the
common instead. Peggy declared that they made a "real hot fire," and
she would joke about their large coal cellar--meaning the
common--"that never got empty--only fuller and fuller."
Paddy would come in shivering and shaking in his threadbare coat.
"And are you frozen entirely?" she would ask.
And he would answer: "I was mortal cold, but the sight of your gentle
face has warmed my blood. Faith, it's better than all the fires!"
Whenever the sun came out she would make him take her to the
window where she could warm herself in its rays. When her husband
was working at the ash piles she would wave to him.
"On those days," said Paddy, "I always have luck. The people throw
out more rags, and the cinders are in big lumps and only half burned."
Whenever he made a good find he waved his hand to her, but one day
he waved both hands and his cap, and she knew he had been unusually
fortunate.

He came straight in to show her. He had found a big silver dollar. It
was tarnished and black from the flames, but it was a good one with a
true ring.
"Whose can it be, I wonder!" exclaimed Peggy.
"If I knew I'd have to take it back," answered Paddy,