_] Nothing, Joe?
JOE. Nothing. Not a farthing. Nothing.
[MARY _turns away and checks a moan._
JOE. Nothing at all. Same as yesterday--worse than yesterday--I _did_
bring home a few coppers--And you?
MARY. A lady gave Minnie some food--
JOE. [_Heartily._] Bless her for that!
MARY. Took her into the pastrycook's, Joe--
JOE. And the kiddie had a tuck-out? Thank God! And you?
MARY. Minnie managed to hide a great big bun for me.
JOE. The lady didn't give you anything?
MARY. Only a lecture, Joe, for bringing the child out on so bitter a day.
JOE. [_With a sour laugh, as he sits on a chair._] Ho, ho! Always so ready
with their lectures, aren't they? "Shouldn't beg, my man! Never give to
beggars in the street!"--Look at me, I said to one of them. Feel my arm.
Tap my chest. I tell you I'm starving, and they're starving at
home.--"Never give to beggars in the street."
MARY. [_Laying a hand on his arm._] Oh, Joe, you're wet!
JOE. It's been raining hard the last three hours--pouring. My stars, it's
cold. Couldn't we raise a bit of fire, Mary?
MARY. With what, Joe?
JOE. [_After a look round, suddenly getting up, seizing a ricketty chair
by the wall, breaking off the legs._] With this! Wonderful fine furniture
they give you on the Hire System--so solid and substantial--as advertised.
[_He breaks the flimsy thing up, as he speaks._] And to think we paid for
this muck, in the days we were human beings--paid about three times its
value! And to think of the poor devils, poor devils like us, who sweated
their life-blood out to make it--and of the blood-sucking devils who sold
it and got fat on it--and now back it goes to the devil it came from, and
we can at least get warm for a minute.
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