em, too, and they were just as
round and smooth as a fat baby! And she said: 'A foot long at least and
two fingers deep.' And she even said it itched in rainy weather! Now
what do you know about that?"

Danny slowly shook out the folds of a large red handkerchief, dropped it
over his head and face, and bowed himself as though in prayer. No sound
came from behind the handkerchief, but Danny's body began to shake
convulsively. Either he was sobbing, or----

"Danny Agin, are you laughing?"

Danny slowly raised his head and, drawing off the handkerchief, began
wiping his eyes.

"Laughin', is it? Why, it's weepin' I am! Don't you see the tears?"

Rosie looked at him doubtfully. "I don't see what you're weeping about."

Danny shook his head mournfully. "It's a way I have, Rosie. A thought
came over me while we was talkin' and off I went. And--and here it comes
again!"

Danny reached for his handkerchief, but too late. The thought seemed to
hit him full in the stomach, and back he fell into his chair, rolling
and spluttering.

"Danny Agin, you are laughing!"

Danny wiped his eyes again. "Perhaps I am this time, Rosie. I'm took
different at different times."

Rosie frowned on him severely. "Well, I think you were laughing the
first time and you needn't deny it. And, what's more, I don't see
anything to laugh at."

"Whisht now, darlint, and I'll tell you. I'll talk to you like man to
man. 'Twas thought of the ladies."

"What ladies?"

"All o' them. They're all the same."

"Who are all the same?"

"The ladies, Rosie. Janet and your ma, and the rest o' them!"

"Danny, I don't see how you can say that. Ma and Janet are not a bit the
same. They're exactly different. There's ma who's got a kind husband,
and she goes telling that he chases her with a butcher-knife, and
there's Janet whose father is a drunken brute, and she goes pretending
he's the best ever."

"Precisely, Rosie. You couldn't have expressed it better. Now you'll
understand me when I tell you that they all want the same thing, which
is this: They want to be beat, and they don't want to be beat. Now let
me say it to you again, Rosie: They want to be beat, and they don't want
to be beat. There!"

Rosie put her hands to her head in distraction. "Danny Agin, I don't
know what you're talking about!"

"I'm talkin' about the ladies."

"Well, then, what I want to know is this: How can they want a thing when
they don't want it?"

It was Danny's turn