’Twas no trouble, Mrs. McCourt. He’s quiet enough. Quiet  enough,  says  Mr.  Clohessy,  but  he’s  not  the  dancer  his mother was. Mam says, ’Tis hard to dance with one shoe, Dennis. I know,Angela, but you’d wonder why he didn’t take it off. Is he a bit strange? Ah, sometimes he has the odd manner like his father. Oh,  yes. The  father  is  from  the  North, Angela,  and  that  would account for it.They’d think nothing of dancing with one shoe in the North. We walk up Patrick Street and O’Connell Street, Paddy Clohessy and Mam and Michael and myself, and Mam sobs all the way. Michael says, Don’t cry, Mammy. Frankie won’t run away. She lifts him up and hugs him. Oh, no, Michael, ’tisn’t Frankie I’m crying about. ’Tis Dennis Clohessy and the dancing nights at the Wem- bley Hall and the fish and chips after. She comes into the school with us. Mr. O’Neill looks cross and tells us sit down he’ll be with us in a minute.He talks a long time at the door with my mother and when she leaves he walks between the seats and pats Paddy Clohessy on the head. I’m very sorry for the Clohessys and all their troubles but I think they saved me from getting into trouble with my mother. 169