CHAPTER VI NEXT DOOR "Of course I'm interested in my neighbour: Why shouldn't I be? That fence between us only whets my appetite." AT the same hour the Hennesy family were having six o'clock dinner in the kitchen. Mrs. Hennesy, Marie Jean and John Thomas were already seated at the table, but Mr. Hennesy still stood with his head enveloped in the roller towel at the kitchen sink. "An' ye say her name is Billy, John Thomas?" inquired Mrs. Hennesy, serving the corned beef and cabbage with a liberal hand. "Sure now, it must be a mistake. Maybe it's Milly ye're afther hearin' thim call her. Sure an' Billy's no girl's name at all." "It's Billy," persisted John Thomas, between mouthfuls of cabbage. "Her real name is Wilhelmina, but it was so long and hard they've called her Miss Billy ever since she was a little girl. The Miss is always in front of it though. That makes it feminoine." "Saints have mercy!" ejaculated Mrs. Hennesy. "Wilhelmina! It must be Indian! Mary Jane, you ought to be thankful for your own name, that you ought, afther hearin' this wan." "An' not be thryin' to copy afther thim Frinch quanes that got their heads cut off fer their impidence," put in Mr. Hennesy, emerging from the towel with every hair on end, and seating himself at the table with the scant ceremony of rolling down his shirt sleeves. Marie Jean gave her little head a toss, which was lost upon Mr. Hennesy as he helped himself to a piece of corned beef from the platter. "Was she glad to get the dirt, John Thomas?" he inquired good-naturedly. "Glad!" said John Thomas. "Well, she was that tickled you'd 'a' thought it was gold. She tuk me into the house to make lemonade, an' then upstairs to show me her brother's room. My, yo' ought to see it, Mary Jane." "I s'pose it's just grand," said Marie Jean condescendingly. "It's all right," replied John Thomas, "an' yo' bet I wisht I had one just like it. There ain't no carpets ner tidies ner fixins. The floor is painted kind o' red, an' the walls are red with all kinds of posters stuck 'round. An' there's a border at the top made out of sheet music with pictures on. My, it's great. Right in the middle of the room there's a punchin' bag strung,--an' he's got dumb bells, an' boxin' gloves, an' there's a case of all kinds of money, some big name she called it, but it means, anyway, collectin' coins. He uses two hair brushes at a time, without any handles to 'em, an' there's a brush fer his teeth, an' a brush fer his hands, an' one fer his nails, an' a thing to polish his nails, an' two brushes fer his shoes, an' one fer his hat, an' another fer his clo'es." Mr. Hennesy's jaw had dropped lower and lower during this recital. Now he closed his mouth with an effort and looked fixedly at his son.