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We'll have to save our money, if we _both_ go. We'll go on a
_street_ car, and walk up a grand av'noo among trees, and I'll take you
in, and see if your room is right, and everything, and all the girls will
like you 'cause you're so smart, and your hair's so pretty, and then I'll
go to a boys' school close by, and learn how to make poetry pieces that
beat any in the papers. Every time I make a new one I'll come and ask, 'Is
Miss Lily--Miss Lily Peaches----' Gee kid, _what's your name?_"
Mickey stared at Peaches, while she stared back at him.
"I don't know," she said. "Do you care, Mickey?"
"What was your granny's?" asked Mickey.
"I don't know," answered Peaches.
"Was she your mother's mother?" persisted Mickey.
"Yes," replied Peaches.
"Did you ever see your father?" Mickey went on.
"I don't know nothing about fathers," she said.
Mickey heaved a deep sigh.
"Well! _That's_ over!" he said. "_I_ know something about fathers. I know
a lot. I know that you are no worse off, not knowing _who_ your father was
than to know he was so _mean_ that you are _glad_ he's dead.


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