Read Studs Lonigan for Free Online Page B

and when they blew their gobs off, he would tell them from now on he was his own boss, and he would smoke where and when he damn well pleased; and furthermore, he wasn’t going to high school.
    â€œWilliam, will you please . . . please . . . please let me in . . . Mother, won’t you please . . . please . . . OH, PLEASE, come here and make him get out. He’s been in there a half-hour. He’s reading. He’s always mean and selfish like that . . . Mother, please . . . PLEASE!”
    She banged on the door.
    â€œAw, I heard you,” Studs said.
    â€œWell, if you did, come on out!” she snapped.
    He heard his mother coming up to the door, while Frances banged and shouted away. He took a towel . . . why didn’t he think of it sooner? . . . and started flapping it around.
    His mother said:
    â€œWilliam, won’t you hurry now, like a good son? Frances has to go in there, and she has to finish dressing and be up there early because she’s going to be in the play. Now, son, hurry!”
    â€œAll right. I can’t help it. I’ll be right out.”
    â€œWell, please do!” Frances said.
    The mother commenced to tell Frances that William was going to let her right in; but Frances interrupted:
    â€œBut, mother, he’s been in there almost an hour . . . He has no consideration for other people’s rights . . . He’s selfish and mean . . . and oh, mother, I got to go in there . . . and what will I do if I spoil my graduation dress on his account . . . make him, mother . . . and now I’m getting unnerved, and I’ll never be able to act in the play.”
    The old lady persuaded. And she told Studs that she and his father couldn’t go until they had all the children off, and they would be disgraced if they came late for the entertainment on the night their son and daughter graduated.
    Frances banged on the door and yelled.
    â€œAw, don’t get so darn crabby,” Studs said to her while he fanned the air with his towel.
    â€œSee, mother! See! He says I’m insane just because I ask him to hurry after he’s been in there all day. He’s reading or smoking cigarettes . . . Please, make him hurry!”
    â€œWhy, Frances, how dare you accuse him like that!” Mrs. Lonigan commenced to say.
    Studs heard his sister dashing away, hollering to the old man to come and do something. He fanned vigorously, and his mother stood at the door urging.
II
    Old man Lonigan, his feet planted on the back porch railing, sat tilted back in his chair enjoying his stogy. His red, well-fed-looking face was wrapped in a dreamy expression; and his innards made slight noises as they diligently furthered the process of digesting a juicy beefsteak. He puffed away, exuding burgher comfort, while from inside the kitchen came the rattle of dishes being washed. Now and then he heard Frances preparing for the evening.
    He gazed, with reverie-lost eyes, over the gravel spread of Carter Playground, which was a few doors south of his own building. A six o’ clock sun was imperceptibly burning down over the scene. On the walk, in the shadow of and circling the low, rambling public school building, some noisy little girls, the size and age of his own Loretta, were playing hop-scotch. Lonigan puffed at his cigar, ran his thick paw through his brown-gray hair, and watched the kids. He laughed when he heard one of the little girls shout that the others could go to hell. It was funny and they were tough little ones all right. It sounded damn funny. They must be poor little girls with fathers and mothers who didn’t look after them or bring them up in the right home atmosphere; and if they were Catholic girls, they probably weren’t sent to the sisters’ school; parents ought to send their children to the sisters’ school even if it did take some sacrifice; after all, it only cost a dollar a month, and even poor people could afford that when their children’s