That night when Dennis Hogan came in for his weekly _Fireside
Companion_ as he said, "for the good woman," Mr. Brotherton, for old
sake's sake, put in something in paper backs by Marie Corelli, and a
novel by Ouida; and then, that he might give until it hurt, he tied up a
brand new _Ladies' Home Journal_, and said, as he locked up the
store and stepped into the chill night air with Mr. Hogan: "Dennis--tell
Violet--I sent 'em in return for the good turns she used to do me when I
was mayor and she was in Van Dorn's office and drew up the city
ordinances--she'll remember."
"Indeed she will, George Brotherton--that she will. Many's the night
she's talked me to sleep of them golden days of her splendor--indeed she
will."
They walked on together and Hogan said: "Well--I turn at the next
crossin'. I'm goin' home and I'm glad of it. Up in the mornin' at five;
off on the six-ten train, climbin' the slag dump at seven, workin' till
six, home on the six-fifteen train, into the house at seven; to bed at
ten, up at five, eat and work and sleep--sleep and eat and work,
fightin' the dump by day and fightin' the fumes in me chist by
night--all for a dollar and sixty a day; and if we jine a union, we get
canned, and if we would seek dissipation, we're invited to go down to
the Company hall and listen to Tommy Van Dorn norate upon what he calls
the 'de-hig-nity of luh-ay-bor.' Damn sight of dignity labor has, lopin'
three laps ahead of the garnishee from one year's end to the other."
He laughed a good-natured, creaking laugh, and said as he waved his hand
to part with Mr. Brotherton--"Well, annyhow, the good woman will thank
you for the extra readin'; not that she has time to read it, God knows,
but it gives the place a tone when Laura Nesbit drops in for a bit of a
word of help about the makin' of the little white things she's doin' for
the Polish family on 'D' Street these days." In another minute
Brotherton heard the car moaning at the curve, and saw Hogan get in. It
was nearly midnight when Hogan got to sleep; for the papers that
Brotherton sent brought back "the grandeur that was Greece," and he had
to hear how Mr. Van Dorn had made Mr. Brotherton mayor and how they had
both made Dr. Nesbit Senator, and how ungrateful the Doctor was to turn
against the hand that fed him, and many other incidents and tales that
pointed to the renown of the unimpeachable Judge, who for seven years
had reigned in the humble house of Hogan as a first-rate god.
That night Hogan tossed as the fumes in his lungs burned the tissues and
at five he got up, made the fire, helped to dress the oldest child while
his wife prepared the breakfast. He missed the six-ten car, and being
late at work stopped in to take a drink at the Hot Dog, near the dump on
the company ground, thinking it would put some ginger into him for the
day's work. For two hours or so the whiskey livened him up, but as the
forenoon grew old, he began to yawn and was tired.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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