"Who is Miss Montaubyn?"
"She 's a' old woman as lives next
floor below. When she was young
she was pretty an' used to dance in
the 'alls. Drunken Bet says she was
one o' the wust. When she got old
it made 'er mad an' she got wusser.
She was ready to tear gals eyes out,
an' when she'd get took for makin'
a row she'd fight like a tiger cat.
About a year ago she tumbled downstairs
when she'd 'ad too much an'
she broke both 'er legs. You
remember, Polly?"
Polly hid her face in her hands.
"Oh, when they took her away to
the hospital!" she shuddered. "Oh,
when they lifted her up to carry
her!"
"I thought Polly 'd 'ave a fit when
she 'eard 'er screamin' an' swearin'.
My! it was langwich! But it was
the 'orspitle did it."
"Did what?"
"Dunno," with an uncertain, even
slightly awed laugh. "Dunno wot
it did--neither does nobody else,
but somethin' 'appened. It was
along of a lidy as come in one day
an' talked to 'er when she was lyin'
there. My eye," chuckling, "it was
queer talk! But I liked it. P'raps
it was lies, but it was cheerfle lies
that 'elps yer. What I ses is--if
THINGS ain't cheerfle, PEOPLE 'S got to be
--to fight it out. The women in
the 'ouse larft fit to kill theirselves
when she fust come 'ome limpin' an'
talked to 'em about what the lidy
told 'er. But arter a bit they liked
to 'ear 'er--just along o' the
cheerfleness. Said it was like a
pantermine. Drunken Bet says if she
could get 'old 'f it an' believe it sime
as Jinny Montaubyn does it'd be as
cheerin' as drink an' last longer.
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