My Mamie Rose: The Story of My Regeneration

y mother. She had a small foot, yet her old shoes were miles too large for me, and furthermore, always made me the butt of the

ldy cast-offs, the comments became so personal that I

g my petition anent the

that "there wasn't an honest day's work to be got no more, at all, by an honest, decent, laboring man." At the moment my mother was deeply engaged in the ta

lence. It was an ominous sile

nsi

s all to myself, the s

ney, when there ain't enough money in the house to get a

ned to me long before, was inflicted upon me. I was beaten fo

nd from their parents, to be properly clothed. This incited his humor; but, after his laugh had ended, he told me in the most direct and blunt way of

east, he told me that I was no better than an orphan, picked from th

s all

egendary lore of neighborly gossip. And even he, my foster-father, could

e had a good heart, but permitted it too often t

ever ready with song or story, he was a universal favorite during his sojourn in the ward where he had

f the building where our home had been and where I was bo

ut being any too hard on them. But it was all different with your father. There were a few times when his rent was either short a few dollars or not there at all, but before I had

h, to help my mind's eye see my parents; and, therefore, any tribute, no matter how trifling, paid to

her in the district. All her life seemed to be centered in her husband, and she was rarely seen out of her own rooms. The only breathing spells she ever enjoyed wer

d I not

arrival in this country, were compelled to take apartments on the t

rth; my father had prec

in a tenement house. Each family ha

ed babe, was sing

e not devoid of romance, and,

lar and finest looking young men of the neighborhood, had "gone to the bad." He had neglected his work to share

as not as welcome as formerly at the many gatherings. The reason

he kept to the water front, spend

o pose before his constituents as a man whose charity knew no bounds, this diplomat, this statesman, had given a home to his niece, the daughter of his dec

was the wont of the belles of the ward. Even would she have had the time for it, she would

t-face" by the boys on her appearance in the street, and, while not supersensitive,

these nocturnal rambles she met Patrick McShane. He was lying in drunken stupor on the very edge of the dock, and in danger of losing his

d it was not long before Mary conceived

was startled into unusual surprise by hearing of

row road of sobriety with nary a stumble. But, after about a year of wedded life, he permitted himself occasional relapses into the old ways, multiplying them in time. It is hard to tell

tion, and when "the lady in front"-my mother-died and left her orphan, Mary McSha

was one of self-sacrifice, devotion and humiliat

y grave to me. Should the fact become known to my playmates that I was an orphan-not distinguished from a foundling by them-and that I had sailed, so to speak, under fals

lenty of evidence of the impulsive spirit which ruled our household, something seemed to tell me that it was not imp

es of great interest to me. I watched their ways, and even found myself calculating their receipts. It was quite clear to

g, from the wood box behind the cooking range, watched our home proceedings. Most times they were very noisy, and my quietness seemed to g

more stifled within me? Perhaps I was unreasonable or lacking in gratitude, but I was a child

tain eventful day, "mum" went to her savings bank, the proverbial stocking, took the larger part of it and made me the proud possessor of a pair of real, new shoes, the first of my life. Bitterness, sulking and wailing wer

n agreed between "mum" and me that I was to pay the equivalent f

o fear that we would not be able to find room for all the coal I meant to carry home that day. Tons

dable duty to let m

ades that the accumulation of coal suffered in consequence. The awakening from my dream of glory came with

ket was drea

neighboring saloons. Had there been "company" I might have been able to escape his wrath, but, having sat there all alone-that

eing hungry from working so hard at getting about ten pieces of coal? Oh, and new shoes are we wearing no

nterposed "mum," but I knew,

ing it all. In a dull, heavy way

against that. Life without those shoes was not worth living, and I stormed myself into a frenzy, which did not l

elf stunned and bewildered. What was I to do? The street "where I belonged" now seemed t

reasoned, forgetting the fact that, only quit

or came a tiny streak of light, which told a vivid tale of all I was in danger of fo

d there I do not know. All my senses were alert and ready for the slightest alarm. Once I

slight creaking and saw the reflection of more light on the hallway floor. It d

the threshold of my lost home, felt around and found-my shoes, my real, new shoe

nd the curtain fell on my childhoo

OF THE