gers and stuff it up their noses. A young woman sneezes and the red-
haired woman laughs. Ah, sure, Biddy, youre not able for that snuff.
Come here, little Yankee boys, have a pinch. She plants the brown stuff
in our nostrils and we sneeze so hard the women stop crying and laugh
till they have to wipe their eyes with their shawls. Mam tells us,Thats
good for ye, twill clear yeer heads.
The young woman, Biddy, tells Mam were two lovely boys. She
points at Malachy.That little fella with the goldy ringlet, isnt he gor-
geous? He could be a film star with Shirley Temple. And Malachy smiles
and warms up the queue.
The woman with the snuff says to Mam, Missus, I dont want to be
forward but I think you should be sitting down for we heard about your
loss.
Another woman worries,Ah, no, they dont like that.
Who dont like what?
Ah, sure, Nora Molloy, the Society dont like us sittin on the steps.
They want us to be standin respectful against the wall.
They can kiss my arse, says Nora, the red-haired woman. Sit down
there, missus, on that step an Ill sit next to you an if theres one word
out of the St.Vincent de Paul Society Ill take the face off em, so I will.
Do you smoke, missus?
I do, says Mam, but I dont have them.
Nora takes a cigarette from a pocket in her apron, breaks it, and
offers half to Mam.
The worried woman says,They dont like that either.They say every
fag you smoke is taking food from the mouth of your child. Mr. Quin-
livan inside is dead against it. He says if you have money for the fags you
have money for food.
Quinlivan can kiss my arse, too, the grinny oul bastard. Is he going
to begrudge us a puff of a fag, the only comfort we have in the world?
A door opens at the end of the hall and a man appears.Are any of
ye waiting for childrens boots?
Women raise their hands, I am. I am.
Well, the boots are all gone.Yell have to come back next month.
But my Mikey needs boots for school.
Theyre all gone, I told you.
But tis freezin abroad, Mr. Quinlivan.
The boots are all gone. Nothing I can do. Whats this? Whos
smoking?
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