was getting in worse every minute, because they
had come determined to find me guilty, and no matter what I said, it
would of listened queer with them two pairs of glassy eyes on me.

"I had a hunch," I wound up, "that maybe something a little substantial
would be welcome," I says, "because after all a person can't live on
plaster arches and paper flowers, and three hundred and nineteen jobs
ought to take care of a considerable percent of the ones that need it,"
I says. "And so while your arches are all right," I says, "you must
admit they are principally for show."

When I got through Mr. Mulvaney cleared his throat and didn't seem to
know just how to go on; but Ruby give him an eye, and so he cleared his
throat again and changed back to her side.

"This is all _most_ irregular," he says very dignified. "Most irregular.
You will certainly have to appear before the general committee and give
them an accounting. What you have done amounts to a misuse of
public-funds!"

My Gawd, I nearly fainted at that! But before I could say a word a
voice spoke up from the doorway.

"Like hell it does!" says Jim, which that dear kid had left himself in
with his key and listened to the whole business. "Like hell it's a
misuse!" he says, coming into the room and putting his arm around me.
"You just let the public and the soldiers take their choice! Give all
the facts to all the newspapers and we will furnish the photographs
free! Go to it! Get busy! And--get out!"

Well, they got, and what happened then I will not go into because there
are things even a self-centered woman won't put on paper! Poor Jim, and
him back in camp to get deloused and demobilized and his tooth-brush,
and a few parting words of appreciation and etc, these past 48 hours
which it seems is the rule for all soldiers, and I suppose they did need
the rest after that parade before taking up domestic life once more.

Well, anyways, that afternoon late, while him and me was thoroughly
enjoying our joint contract and the Sunday spreads with our pictures and
all, in walks Ma with her hat and dolman on and a suit-case in one hand,
and 'Frisco, the he-snake in his box, in the other hand.

"For the love of Mike, Ma Gilligan, where are you going to?" I says,
looking at her idly.

"I'm leaving you forever!" says Ma, in a deep voice.

"Leaving us? Whatter you mean, leaving us?" I says, taking notice and my
head off Jim's shoulder.

"I'm going back to work," says Ma.