It was like two Masonic brothers exchanging pass words. At once a bond was established between us. Whatever game we played he was always on my side. If one of the older boys threatened to go for me he interposed himself. If he had anything important to confide he’d employ the jargon of the 14th Ward.
One day he introduced me to his sister, who was a trifle younger than I. It was almost love at first sight. She wasn’t so beautiful, even to my youthful eyes, but she had a way about her which I associated with the behavior of the girls I had admired in the old neighborhood.
One night a surprise party was given me. Every youngster in the neighborhood was there—except this new-found friend of mine and his little sister. I was heart-broken. When I asked why they hadn’t been invited I was told that they didn’t belong. That settled it for me. At once I sneaked out of the house and went in search of them. I quickly explained to their mother that there had been a mistake, that it was a pure oversight, and that every one was waiting for her son and daughter to appear. She patted me on the head with a knowing smile and told me what a good boy I was. She tanked me so profusely, indeed, that I blushed.
I escorted my two friends to the party in triumph, only to perceive, however, that I had made a grave blunder. On all sides they were given the cold shoulder. I did my best to dissipate the atmosphere of hostility but in vain. Finally I could bear it no longer. Either you make friends with my friends, I announced boldly, holding the latter by the arms, or you can all go home. This is my party and I want my own friends here.
For this piece of bravado I got a sound slap in the face from my mother. I winced but stood my ground.
It isn’t fair! I bellowed, almost on the point of tears now.
All at once they gave way. It was almost a miracle the way the ice broke up. In no time we were all laughing, shouting, singing. I couldn’t understand why it had happened so suddenly.
During the course of the evening the girl, whose name was Sadie, got me in a corner to express her thanks for what I had done. It was wonderful of you, Henry. she said, to which I blushed deeply. It was nothing at all, I mumbled, feeling silly and heroic at the same time. Sadie looked around to see if any one were observing us, then boldly kissed me on the lips. This time I blushed even more deeply.
My mother would like you to come for dinner some evening, she whispered. Will you come?
I squeezed her little hand and said Sure.
It was in the flats across the street where Sadie and her brother lived. I had never been inside a house on that side of the street. I wondered what their home was like. In calling for them I was too flustered to notice a thing. All I could recall was that it had a distinctly Catholic odor. Nearly all the people, incidentally, who lived in the flats—railroad flats they were—were members of the Roman Church. This was enough in itself to alienate them from the other people in the street.
The first discovery I made, on visiting my two friends, was that they were very very poor. The father, who had been a locomotive engineer, was dead; the mother, who was suffering from some grave malady, was unable to leave the house. They were Catholics all right. Devout ones. That was obvious at once. In every room, it seemed to me, there were rosaries and crucifixes, votive candles, chromos of the Madonna and Child or of Jesus on the Cross. Though I had seen these evidences of the faith in other homes, nevertheless each time it happened I got the creeps. My dislike of these sacred relics—if one could call them that—was purely and simply because of their morbidity. True, I didn’t know the word morbid then but the feeling was definitely that. When I had first glimpsed these relics in the homes of my other little friends I remember that I had mocked and jeered. It was my mother, oddly enough, my mother who despised Catholics almost as much as drunkards and criminals, who had cured me of this attitude. To make me more tolerant she would force me to go to mass occasionally with my Catholic friends.
Now, however, when I described in detail the conditions in the home of my two friends, she showed little sympathy. She repeated that she didn’t think it was good for me to see so much of them. Why? I wanted to know. She refused to answer me directly. When I suggested that she permit me to bring them fruit and candy from our sideboard, which was always overflowing with good things, she frowned. Sensing that there was no good reason behind her refusals, I decided to pinch the edibles and smuggle them over to my friends. Now and then I stole a few pennies from her pocketbook and handed them to Sadie or her brother. Always as if my mother had requested me to do so.
Your mother must be a very kind woman, said Sadie’s mother one day.
I smiled, rather lamely.
You’re sure, Henry, it’s your mother who sends us these gifts?
Certainly, I said, smiling ever so brightly now. We have much more than we need. I can bring you other things too, if you like.
Henry, come here, said Sadie’s mother. She was seated in an old-fashioned rocker. Now listen to me carefully, Henry. She patted my head affectionately and held me close to her. You’re a very, very good boy and we love you. But you mustn’t steal to make others happy. That’s a sin. I know you mean well, but…
It isn’t stealing, I protested. They would only go to waste.
You have a big heart, he said. A big heart for such a little boy. Wait a while. Wait till you grow older and earn your own living. Then you can give to your heart’s content.
The next day Sadie’s brother took me aside and begged me not to be angry with his mother for refusing my gifts. She likes you very much, Henry, he said.
But you don’t have enough to eat, said I.
Certainly we do, he said.
You don’t! I know because I know how much we eat.
I’ll be getting a job soon, he said. We’ll have plenty then.
In fact, he added, I may get a job next week.
What sort of job?
I’m going to work part time for the undertaker.
That’s terrible, said I.
Not really, he replied. I won’t have to handle the stiffs.
You’re sure?
Positive. He’s got men for that. I’m going to run errands, that’s all.
And how much will you get?
Three dollars a week.
I left him wondering if I couldn’t find a job too. Perhaps I could find something to do on the sly. My thought was, of course, to turn over my earnings to them. Three dollars a week was nothing, even in those days. I lay awake the whole night thinking it over. I was certain in advance that I would never receive my mother’s permission to take a job. Whatever was to be done had to be done secretly and with cunning and foresight.
Now it happened that a few doors from us lived a family in which the eldest son ran a coffee business on the side. That is to say, he had drummed up a small clientele for a blend which he mixed himself; on Saturdays he used to deliver the packages himself. It was quite a route he covered and I wasn’t too confident that I could manage it alone but I decided to ask him to give me a chance. To my surprise I found that he was only too happy to have me take over; he had been on the verge of abandoning his little enterprise.
The following Saturday I set forth with two valises filled with small packages of coffee. I was to get fifty cents as salary and a small commission on new business. Should I be able to collect on any of the bad debts I was to get a bonus. I carried a linen bag with a draw string in which I was to put the money I collected.
After coaching me as to how to approach the debtors he had warned me specifically to beware of the dogs in certain regions. I checked these spots with a red pencil on the itinerary where everything was plainly indicated—brooks and culverts, viaducts, reservoirs, fence lines, government property, and so on.
That first Saturday was a huge success. My boss literally rolled his eyes
