up in rows. It's
going to look like Tiffany's kitchen, all shiny. Give me, honey; that's an
egg-beater. Look at it whiz. And this--this is a pan for war bread. I'm
going to make us war bread to help the soldiers."

"You're a little soldier yourself," he said.

"That's what I would be if I was a man, a soldier all in brass buttons."

"There's a bunch of the fellows going," said Mr. Batch, standing at the
window, looking out over roofs, dilly-dallying up and down on his heels
and breaking into a low, contemplative whistle. She was at his shoulder,
peering over it. "You wouldn't be afraid, would you, Jimmie?"

"You bet your life I wouldn't."

She was tiptoes now, her arms creeping up to him. "Only my boy's got a
wife--a brand-new wifie to support, 'ain't he?"

"That's what he has," said Mr. Batch, stroking her forearm, but still
gazing through and beyond whatever roofs he was seeing.

"Jimmie!"

"Huh?"

"Look! We got a view of the Hudson River from our flat, just like we lived
on Riverside Drive."

"All the Hudson River I can see is fifteen smoke-stacks and somebody's
wash-line out."

"It ain't so. We got a grand view. Look! Stand on tiptoe, Jimmie, like me.
There, between that water-tank on that black roof over there and them two
chimneys. See? Watch my finger. A little stream of something over there
that moves."

"No, I don't see."

"Look, honey-bee, close! See that little streak?"

"All right, then, if you see it I see it."

"To think we got a river view from our flat! It's like living in the
country. I'll peek out at it all day long. God! honey, I just never will be
over the happiness of being done with basements."

"It was swell of old Higgins to give us this half-Saturday. It shows where
you stood with the management, Gert--this and a five-dollar gold piece.
Lord knows they wouldn't pony up that way if it was me getting married by
myself."

"It's because my boy 'ain't shown them down there yet the best that's in
him. You just watch his little safety-first wife see to it that from now on
he keeps up her record of never in seven years punching the time-clock even
one minute late, and that he keeps his stock shelves O. K. and shows his
department he's a comer-on."

"With that bunch of boobs a fellow's got a swell chance to get anywheres."

"It's getting late, Jimmie. It don't look nice for us to stay here so late
alone, not till--to-morrow. Ruby and Essie and Charley are going to meet us
in the