turnip and Rosie don't, either. All I've got to say is, if
it looks like a turnip to you, it's because you've changed it into one
yourself."

To this Dave made no answer. Without further words he could better
preserve the expression of grieved and unappreciated parenthood.
Whatever he may have done or may not have done in the past, just now he
had been noble and generous. And would his own child acknowledge this?
No! He bore her no grudge; his face very plainly said so; but he was
hurt, deeply hurt. Under cover of the hurt, he opened the door quietly
and made his escape.

In Janet the fires of indignation flickered and went out, leaving her
cold and lifeless. She threw herself into a chair and folded her hands.

"You certainly did give it to him straight, Janet!" Rosie spoke in tones
of deep admiration.

Janet laughed scornfully. "Give it to him straight! Oh, yes, I gave it
to him straight all right!" She shivered and clenched her hands. "I can
talk! That's where we come in strong. Take the women in this tenement
and they've all got tongues as sharp as ice-picks. Any one of them can
talk a man to death. But what does it all amount to? Nothing! I tell
you, Rosie, they've got the bulge on us, for, as soon as we make things
hot for them, all they've got to do is clear out!" Janet sighed
unhappily. "Then they pay us back by not coming home and when they get
injured or pulled in it all comes out that it's our fault because we
haven't made home pleasant for them. Huh! They always make it so awful
pleasant for us, don't they?"

Rosie felt helpless and uncomfortable. Her own life had problems of its
own but, compared to Janet's, how trivial they seemed, how
inconsequential. And, by a like comparison, how inviting her own home
suddenly appeared. She thought of it, ordinarily, as an overcrowded
untidy little house where everybody was under every one else's feet. Not
so this morning. This morning it was home as home should be, the centre
of a very real family life supported by a father's industry and a
mother's devotion. They were poor, of course, but not overwhelmingly so,
for they had enough to eat and enough to wear. And, best of all, they
loved each other. In the past Rosie had not always known this, but she
knew it now. They loved each other and, without thinking anything about
it, they were ready to stand by each other. Beneath all family discord
there was a harmony, a family harmony, the burden of which was: all for
o