ace where you want to
smash things up, a good big cuss word just helps an awful lot! Don't you
think so?"

Rosie cleared her throat a little nervously. "Yes, Janet, I suppose it
does."

"You bet it does! And what's more, women have got just as much right to
use it as men, haven't they?"

Rosie wanted to cry out: "I don't think they want to! I know I don't!"
but, under Janet's fiery glance, the words that actually spoke
themselves were: "Yes, of--of course they have."

With the hearty agreement of every one present, there was no more to be
said on that subject. Janet turned to another.

"Rosie, will you do something for me? Come and stay all night with me.
I'll be so lonely I don't know what I'll do."

Rosie's heart sank. If she spent the night with Janet, she'd have no
chance to talk to George Riley, for she'd be gone long before he got
home. Besides, there was Dave McFadden, and the thought of sleeping near
him was almost terrifying.

"But, Janet dear, how about your father?"

"Oh, I suppose he'll come in soused as usual. But you won't be bothered.
I'll get him off to bed before you come and he'll be safe till morning.
Please say you'll come, Rosie. I need you, honest I do."

That was true: Janet did need her. George Riley would have to wait.

"All right, Janet. I'll come."

"Thanks, Rosie. I knew you would." Janet paused. "And, Rosie, do you
think you could lend me a quarter? I've got to have some money for
breakfast. Mother had a dollar in her pocket but I forgot about it at
the hospital."

"I haven't a cent, Janet, but I'll raise a quarter somewhere, from Terry
or from dad, and I'll bring it with me tonight."

Janet stood up to go. "Come about eight o'clock, Rosie."

Rosie looked at her friend compassionately. "Why don't you stay here for
supper?"

Janet shook her head. "I'd like to but I don't think I'd better. He
probably won't come home, but he might come and I better be on hand."

Janet started off slowly and reluctantly. Twice she turned back a face
so woebegone and desolate that it went to Rosie's heart and, after a few
moments, sent her flying for comfort to her mother's ample bosom.

Mrs. O'Brien gathered her in as if were the most natural thing in the
world. "What is it, Rosie darlint? What's troublin' you?"

"Ma," she sobbed, "you're well, aren't you?"

"Me, Rosie dear, am I well, do you say?" Mrs. O'Brien looked into
Rosie's tearful eyes in astonishment.

"Yes, Ma, you! I want yo