Mrs Yabsley,for ever on the alert,felt some change in his manner,and one Sunday morning received a shock.She was chopping wood in the yard.
She swung the axe with a grunt,and the billet,split in two,left the axe wedged in the block.As she was wrenching it out,Jonah dropped his cigarette and cried:
"'Ere,missis,gimme that axe;I niver like ter see a woman chop wood."She looked at him in amazement.Times without number he had watched her grunt and sweat without stirring a finger.Bitten with her one idea,she watched him curiously.
It was the baby that betrayed him at last.Ada was carrying it past him in furtive haste,when it caught sight of his familiar features.Jonah,off his guard,smiled.The child laughed joyously,and leaned out of Ada's arms towards him.
"W'y,wot's the matter,Joe?"cried Mrs Yabsley,all eyes.
Jonah hesitated.Denial was on his tongue,but he looked again at his child,and a lump rose in his throat.
"Oh,nuthin',missis,"he replied,reddening."Me an'the kid took a fancy ter one another long ago."He smiled blandly,in exquisite relief,as if he had confessed a sin or had a tooth drawn.He took the child from Ada,and it lay in his arms,nestling close with animal content.
Ada looked in silence,astonished and slightly scornful at this development,jealous of the child's preference,already regretting her neglect.
Mrs Yabsley stood petrified with the face of one who has seen a miracle.
For a moment she was too amazed to think;then,with a rapid change of front,she conquered her surprise and claimed the credit for this result.
"I knowed all along the kid 'ud fetch yer,Joe.I knowed yer'd got a soft 'eart,"she cried."An''e's the very image of yer,wi'the sweetest temper mortal child ever 'ad."From that time Sunday became a marked day for Jonah,and he looked forward to it with impatience.It was spring.The temperate rays of the sun fell on budding tree and shrub;the mysterious renewal of life that stirred inanimate nature seemed to touch his pulse to a quicker and lighter beat.
He sat for hours in the backyard,once a garden,screened from observation,with the child on his knees.The blood ran pleasantly in his veins;he felt in sympathy with the sunlight,the sky flecked with clouds,and the warm breath of the winds.It broke on him slowly that he was taking his place among his fellows,outcast and outlaw no longer.
Soon,he and the child were inseparable.He learned to attend to its little wants with deft fingers,listening with a smile to the kindly banter of the women.His manner changed to Ada and her mother;he was considerate,even kind.Then he began to drop in on Monday or Tuesday instead of loafing with the Push at the corner.Ada was at the factory;but Mrs Yabsley,sorting piles of dirty linen,with her arms bared to the elbow,welcomed him with a smile.He remarked with satisfaction that a change had come over the old woman.She never spoke of marriage;seemed to have given up the idea.
But one day,as he sat with the child on his knees,she stopped in front of the pair,with a bundle of shirts in her arms,and regarded them with a puzzling smile.The baby lay on its back,staring into space with solemn,unreflective eyes.From time to time Jonah turned his head to blow the smoke of his cigarette into the air.
"You'll be gittin'too fond of 'im,if y'ain't careful,Joe,"she said at last.
"Git work;wot's troublin'yer?"said Jonah,with a grin.
"Nuthin';only I was thinkin'wot a fine child 'e'd be in a few years.
It's a pity 'e ain't got no real father."
"Wot d'yer mean?"said Jonah,looking up angrily."W'ere do I come in?
Ain't I the bloke?"
"Well,y'are an'y'ain't,yer know,"said Mrs Yabsley."There's two ways of lookin'at these things.""'Strewth!I niver thought o'that,"said Jonah,scratching his ear.
"No,but other people do,worse luck,"said Mrs Yabsley.
Jonah stared at the child in silence.Mrs Yabsley turned and poked the fire under the copper boiler.Suddenly Jonah lifted his head and cried:
"I say,missis,I can see a hole in a ladder plain enough!Yer mean I've got ter marry Ada?"The old woman left the fire and stood in front of him.
"Not a bit,Joe.I've give up that idea.Marriage wouldn't suit yous.
Your dart is ter be King of the Push,an'knock about the streets with a lot of mudlarks as can't look a p'liceman straight in the face.You an'yer pals are seein'life now all right;but wait till yer bones begin ter stiffen,an'yer can't run faster than the cop.Then it'll be jail or worse,an'yous might 'ave bin a good workman,with a wife an'family,only yer knowed better--""'Ere,steady on the brake,missis,"interrupted Jonah,with a frown.
"No,Joe,I don't mind sayin'that I 'ad some idea of marryin'yous an'Ada,but ye're not the man I took yer for an'I give it up.I don't believe in a man marryin'because 'e wants a woman ter cook 'is meals.
My idea is a man wants ter git married because 'e's found out a lot o'surprisin'things in the world 'e niver dreamt of before.An'it's only when 'e's found somethin'ter live for,an'work for,that 'e's wot yer rightly call a man.That's w'y I don't worry about you,Joe.I can see your time ain't come.""Don't be too bleedin'sure,"cried Jonah,angrily.
"Of course I'm only a fat old woman as likes 'er joke an'a glass o'beer.
I'd be a fool ter lay down the law to a bloke as sharp as yous,that thinks 'e can see everything.But I wasn't always so fat I 'ad ter squeeze through the door,an'I tell yer the best things in life are them yer can't see at all,an'that's the feelin's.So take a fool's advice,an'don't think of marryin'till yer feel there's somethin'wrong wi'yer inside,fer that's w'ere it ketches yer.""'Ere,'old 'ard!Can't a bloke git a word in edgeways?"Mrs Yabsley stopped,with an odd smile on her face.
Jonah stared at her with a perplexed frown,and then the words came in a rush.
