girls all seemed drab and colorless. But he was never seen with Pete or Nettie.
At seven-thirty, Michael Flynn came home from work. His ashen face told how tired he was, though he never complained. When he spoke it was in a dull voice that had lost all of its vitality.
"I couldn't get the eight dollars today, Annie, because Carter never come in. But I got a loan of two off Mitchell. He's the new pipe fitter I been telling you about. It's through him we got the sample line of new pipes in today, with the swellest automatic joints you ever seen. I tell you, Annie, that fellow"
"Oh, my God, he starts right in gabbin' about the rotten plumbin' business before he even gets his coat off!" Nettie's voice shrilled above the noise of the elevated. "I swear I'd drop dead if pa ever got off on another subject."
"You ain't so fast under the hat that you should be criticizin' anybody else!" Minnie came to the defense of her father who stood before them, looking like a small gray animal.
"That's right, Minnie, you take your father's part like a good girl," Mrs. Flynn's voice rose. "It's a pretty sorry day for parents when their own children starts ridiculing 'em, just as if they hadn't sacrificed their whole lives for 'em"
Nettie flung herself back among the pillows with an angry gesture. "Oh, Lord, now it starts all over again. I'm sick, I tell you, but a hell of a lot you care."
"Nettie!" Her mother's voice rose again in pained reproval. "How many times have I asked you not to use swear words the way you do? It's awful common, and after me doing my best to bring you children up respectable—in spite
