iHr«it««««»MBn««oi: 1J633 laRo THE STORY OF NEDDA THIS LITTLE VOLUME 18 PUBLISHED BY THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE OF THE NEW ENGLAND ITALIAN WAR RELIEF FUND IN THE HOPE THAT ITS MESSAGE MAT INCREASE TOTJB INTEREST IN THEIR WORK ^ '>. / /V / Nedda <^- /^.7 THE STORY OF NEDDA An Italian Reservist' s Wife By LEWIS NILES ROBERTS Member of the Executive Committee of the New England* Italian War Relief Fund With a Frontispiece from a Charcoal Drawing by JOHN S. SARGENT, R.A. and Other Illustrations CAMBRIDGE, MASS. THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 1917 Copyright, 1917, By Lewis Niles RoBERxa First edition, 5000 copies, March, 1917 Second edition, 4000 copies, April, 1917 TO MRS. GEORGE LEE CHAIRMAN OF THE EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE OF THE NEW ENGLAND ITALIAN WAR RELIEF FDND THIS LITTLE STORY IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED IN APPRECIATION OF HER UNTIRING EFFORTS AND VERY GREAT ASSISTANCE RENDERED SINCE ITS INCEPTION TO THE FUND FOREWORD THIS little tale postulates the non-e±istence of the New England Italian War Relief Fund and endeavors to present the situation which would long ago have confronted many of our poor Italian women in the North End, with their little children, if such a relief had not been organized, and which will inevitably confront them if the fund breaks down through lack of support from the public. Both the author and the Executive Committee of the fund wish to express their gratitude and appre- ciation to Mr. John S. Sargent for having so gener- ously made a drawing for the frontispiece. They also wish to thank the Houghton, Mifflin Company for having kindly permitted two illustrations in publications by them to be reproduced in this book and Mr. C. Howard Roberts for his personal efforts and assistance on matters connected with its publi- cation. They furthermore express their thanks and recognition of the generosity of Mr. Adrian J. lorio for having specially drawn and given a cover design. ILLUSTRATIONS Nedda Frontispiece By John S. Sargent FACING PAGE Border Design around the Verses to Queen Elena x By Adrian J. lorio Nedda's Madonna 26 From " The Holy Night " by Correggio Nedda's Quarter 74 By Lester G. Homhy To Her Majesty Queen Elena |EAR lady, gentle mother, queen, Whose loveliness is but the guise That speaks thy soul's brave sacrifice — The things that thou hast done and been: Whose laurels are forever green — Messina spread thy fame afar; Where'er Italia's lovers are, There dost thou live and reign supreme. What grief so lowly or so mean But it within thy heart's care lies And meets the searching of thine eyes, Which humblest woes have ever seen. This simple tale of bitter need I offer to thy gracious hand — And know that thou wilt understand, With great compassion's greater heed. The Author. The above lines were inserted in the copy of "The Story of Necltla" presented to Queen Elena. THE STORY OF NEDDA THE STORY OF NEDDA An Italian Reservist's Wife WHEN the big White Star liner Canopic en- tered the port of Boston from Italy and backed in beside the new dock, there were no happier hearts among all its twelve hundred immigrants than Marco and Nedda Lucetti. They had embarked from sunny Sicily on a double venture, matrimony and a new start in life, and they were both very young and very much in love. So indeed what more could one want to explain the smile on Nedda's pretty face and the confidence in Marco's black eyes as they looked down from the side of the ship on the preparations for debarkation? It had been a boy and girl love, theirs in the straggling hillside village behind Palermo, and it had ripened frankly and openly among the lemon trees of that peaceful countryside untU the old priest blessed them and gave them to each other. A small legacy of eight hundred lire ($160) from Marco's old grandfather, who had died the previous autumn, had made their emigration possible; and though there was no better or stronger workman than Marco in the village and Nedda could wash at the riverside with any girl thereabouts and cook 2 THE STORY OF NEDDA home-made macaroni with the best of them, yet she and Marco decided upon this journey to far-away America in the hope of larger opportunities and better things in life. It was Marco's idea prin- cipally. He was full of it and most confident of steady employment there and high pay. Had not Renaldo Monti come back, after fifteen years, a rich man and able to build his own house and do nothing save watch his lemons ripen and his wife and chil- dren grow fat from all the good things they ate? So it was settled and they were married, and a few days later they boarded the Canopic at Palermo and sailed westward towards the land of promise. The young couple made a really charming picture as they stood together by the ship's rail, a little apart from the mass of the immigrants, who were already crowding towards the gangway, and even the stevedores on the wharf seemed to look up at them with appreciation. Marco, with his hat off and a red handkerchief knotted around his neck, was of good height, slen- der and sinewy, with a skin of dull bronze, clean-cut features, and a well-shaped head, framed in glossy black curls and firmly set on manly shoulders. His attitude was typically Latin, graceful, almost non- chalant, but in his easy relaxation one felt much strength in reserve and the power for work when called upon. Nedda seemed such a little thing, small even for an Italian woman, but well made and as yet unbent by drudgery, like the older women of her class. She was so thin she looked only a slip of a girl and would have been taken bv most observers for her THE STORY OF NEDDA 3 companion's sister. Her head-shawl had slipped back on her shoulders in her preoccupation, reveal- ing a pretty and very winning little face. If her features were less regular than Marco's, §he had a sweetness of expression that was exceptional and a smile that was irresistible, together with coloring such as only Italy can give and very lovely dark eyes. So these two arrived in the country of their dreams, and a week later found them living in a tiny bedroom and still more tiny kitchen in a tene- ment house in the Italian quarter in Boston's North End. The rent was high for such poor accommoda- tion and living was dear, as they soon discovered, and when war began in Europe prices rose still higher. There were, however, plenty of jobs to be had for an able-bodied youth like Marco, who was not afraid of hard manual labor, and in all the city there was not a more contented couple than the Lucettis. Two young persons, very happy together and busy with the small affairs of daily life, have not much time to make acquaintances, and thus it hap- pened that neither Marco nor Nedda made many friends in the Italian colony, though of course their neighbors soon knew them by sight and commonly referred to them as the beautiful bride and groom. Nedda, when she went marketing, and Marco, going and returning from work, were objects of approving regard, for Italians are quick to perceive beauty and love it. Some months after these young people had ar- rived in this new land of opportunity, Nedda made 4 THE STORY OF NEDDA a discovery and, having no intimate woman friend to whom to impart it, she whispered it to Marco, hiding her pretty face on his shoulder as she did so. It was a very momentous little secret to both of them, though one as old as is humanity — the hope of a coming joy, a new little life between them, to bind them even closer to each other. Marco was filled with a buoyant courage as he set out the next morning, for the coming responsibility had brought a greater determination into his life, a brighter glint of resolve into hie eyes. He meant to be head of his gang of Italians in the street depart- ment, and that before long. Indeed even now he sometimes directed the men whenever the foreman was absent. As he made his way through the crowd that Feb- ruary morning he saw an unusual number of people in front of the bulletin boards of the newspapers. Being well ahead of time and with a few minutes to spare, he stopped and listened to the conversation about him, hoping to catch something of the latest war news, for though he had learned to speak English brokenly, he was still unable to read this strange new tongue. It so happened that next to him among the by- standers was an Italian workman whom he knew slightly. This man had been for some years in the United States and both read and spoke English. To Marco's question his acquaintance replied briefly, but with startling effect. There was likelihood of Italy entering the Great European War and of joining France and England and Russia against Austria. The man spat as he spoke the latter THE STORY OF NEDDA 5 hated name, for he was from northern Italy. The bulletins were as to whether Italy would be drawn into the war or not. " If our nation does fight, I may not have to go, for I am old, but you will be among the first reservists to be called back. You are young and they will need you to stop the Aus- trian bullets," Marco's compatriot continued with a laugh. Marco did not reply, but started on with a heavy heart. Called away! To leave his little Nedda, his all, alone here in this foreign city and with so little money and no help from him. What would she do? How would she live, a stranger not know- ing the country or even its language? Marco turned faint for the first time in his life. This big swarthy fellow was completely unnerved and sat down heavily on a bench on the Common to think. He reviewed the situation all over again: what would become of Nedda, what would she do, if he were long at the war — if he were killed? He fore- saw how helpless she would be alone and feared that the pittance his country might give her as a soldier's wife during his absence would count for very little in this expensive land. The more he dwelt on this tragic possibility the more hopeless did it seem for his poor little girl- wife, and a bitter resolve began to form in his mind — to refuse his country's call and remain to protect her and their child. He knew it would mean dis- honor forever, and his face saddened into deep lines as he remembered the " Hymn of Garibaldi " of his childhood days and thought of his beloved Italy, per- haps soon to be in need of his help and abandoned 6 THE STORY OF NEDDA by him who loved her so dearly, A church clock striking the hour recalled him to a sense of his pres- ent duty and he proceeded to his work, but with a spiritless step. When he returned home that night his face was set in an expression which Nedda had never seen, and there were lines which she had not noticed be- fore. Quick to imagine, she feared he might be ill, and the more so as he ate hardly any supper. Then it occurred to her that he might have had trouble with the foreman or even lost his job, for she knew that the city was at that time economizing and that many men in the street department had lately been discharged. She said nothing, however, for with true feminine instinct she understood that he Avould rather tell her at his own time and in his own way, but her poor little face lost all its rosy bloom and grew drawn and worried as she waited on him. After supper, in the gaslight in the bare little room which had become so endeared to them both, he told her very gently about the latest news of the great war, of the possibility of Italy's entering the struggle, and of the probability of his being called back to fight, if Italy became involved. His reference to the war did not startle her, for they spoke of it almost daily; but when he men- tioned the likelihood of Italy's becoming a com- batant — of this she had heard nothing, thought nothing — it came to her as a great shock. That Marco's class would be one of the first to be sum- moned she realized all too well. She kept silent for a moment and crept closer to him, while she tried to grasp the purport of his words. Her Marco THE STORY OF NEDDA 7 gone and she alone in this strange place ! The thought of her loneliness and defencelessness fright- ened her. What if she should never see him again? At that presentment she drew still more fclosely to him, as though, even then, he were being torn from her. Soon she grew calmer in the protection of those strong arms and could comprehend what he was saying to her. He was telling her that Italy was not yet at war, might never engage in the conflict, and that he might not be recalled. And if he were forced to return it might not be until the summer, and there would be enough money to see her through her childbirth and well again. Then there would be an allowance for her from the Italian government; that was certain. He did not know how much, but it might be more for those wives of reservists who were living in this land which was so dear for all to live in, and perhaps it would be sufficient. Nedda, however, found it hard to be comforted and clung to him the more as she protested that she could not remain without him, and that she would go back with him on the boat as far as Sicily, among her own people, where she would feel safe and at home. Marco petted her and kissed her sad little tear- stained face, for he felt that what she proposed could not be encouraged. As the wife of a reservist, even if she were allowed to sail with him, the cost of her return would absorb some of their small savings, and if, at the end of the war, the remainder had been exhausted for her support and that of the baby so soon to arrive, it might be impossible for them to 8 THE STORY OF NEDDA find money for the expense of another emigration to America. Furthermore the contest might not last very long, and in that event it would have been the height of folly to have broken up their life in their new home in a country where he meant to pros- per and grow rich. They would have lost a chance which might never be theirs again, and his pride stiffened at the thought of their returning thus from a land to which they had sailed away with such high hopes. It was late when Nedda grew calmer, soothed by his tenderness. They went to bed, but not to sleep. Though he lay very still, so as not to disturb her, all the terrible possibilities of their future held Satanic carnival in his mind — how to shield her, how to support her while he was away, perhaps for a year, perhaps longer. Then the darkest thought of all confronted him again with sinister countenance — what if he were killed ! Nedda seemed to sleep at first, but later he knew that she was awake and that she was crying. He thought it best to make no effort at consolation ; perhaps she would drop off to sleep tired out. This she seemed to do after a time, and when he was sure of it, he praised God. She sleeps, he thought, my poor little wife. Her heart is with the angels. When it was morning he arose quietly and lighted the fire almost noiselessly and had the kettle boiling before Nedda awoke and got up hastily, looking very pinched and worn. She thanked him and called him her good Marco, but nothing was said of the subject that was in both their minds and lay so heavily across their hearts. And thus it was THE STORY OF NEDDA 9 during the weeks and months that followed; while all the Italian quarter was chattering daily like a big family of magpies over the war and the pros- pects of Italy's becoming engaged, in this one little household the dreaded matter was rarely mentioned, though its dark shadow stood always beside them. n WINTER had passed and it was May, a beauti- ful, warm May for New England, like an Italian April. The time of Nedda's confinement was drawing near when Marco returned rather later than usual one evening from his work. He seemed very tired and quite dazed and Nedda thought he smelt somewhat strongly of wine, a thing she had never before noticed in him. After a little the truth came out. Italy was to enter the conflict and was summoning her reserves; his class came first and might be called any day. He pulled a much tattered newspaper from his pocket and showed her the para- graph, of which, being in English, she could not read a word. Never had she seen him like this ; he seemed dis- mayed, broken, and hardly capable of facing the crisis, and then she understood how much he must have suffered for her in all these weary months of waiting and harrowing doubt. He muttered to him- self at times rather than spoke to her, saying over and over again something about " Italia " and " La Patria," and then he turned to her and drew her to him. So great was her distress for him that she forgot her own situation and, putting her arms around his shoulders and her face against his, prom- ised to be brave and tried to persuade him that all would be well with her until his return. THE STORY OF NEDDA 11 Two days later that which she so much feared be- came a certainty — his class was called. It was an- nounced in Boston's weekly Italian newspaper, the " Gazzetta del Massachusetts." It appea^red to her that her heart stopped beating when he told her. She was silent, stupefied by a paralyzing fear, which seemed to make speech or action impossible. She felt that, if she could only cry out, it would be a relief, but she was as though frozen, speechless, and words were now as impossible to her as tears. She went about her daily duties as usual, but almost uncon- sciously, for a pitiless, relentless voice was constantly repeating in her ear, " He is called ! He is called ! " She tried to pray, but she could not collect her thoughts sufficiently to do so. Before, in those days of suspense, of uncertainty, she had been able to find relief in tears and in prayers, but now she was so numb, so powerless to give expression to all that she felt, that she seemed to herself hardly to feel, hardly to live. She went into the Italian church near by, a quiet place where she had always found help, but its peace and sanctity seemed to mean nothing to her now and held no refuge from that terrible voice, " He is called ! He is called ! " When Marco was at home she did her best to talk and appear as usual, as though his going were a commonplace thing over which they need not worry. She purchased wool and made him new socks, mended and cleaned his clothes, and packed his small valise half a dozen times over before the time of parting came. Though Marco seemed to be reassured by his little wife's calmness and apparent resignation, he 12 THE STORY OF NEDDA was not deceived. He knew how she was being tor- tured by apprehension and despair, and watching her uncomplaining anguish wrung his heart. He said nothing, however, there was so little to be said in the face of this great calamity ; so he bore it in a silence which was almost as undemonstrative as hers. Previously, when that which had come to pass was impending, he had talked much of the briefness of their possible separation, of the certainty of his return ; but now that they stood face to face with the fact of his departure for the front and all the dangers and obscurity of the future, words seemed meaningless. Around them the quarter was hum- ming like a hive, but here, in their tiny nest, these two young souls were mute and overwhelmed. Before his class was called Marco had debated many times in his mind whether it would not be better to turn his back on his native land and remain with Nedda. Now that the summons had come, how- ever, he knew that he could not disobey, and he felt that greatly as she suffered, Nedda would not have him deny that summons. They were Latins, these two, and love of country is the hall-mark of the Latin race. The call of a hundred generations was pulsing in his blood and he knew he must go. A visit to the Italian consul was followed by a short notification two days later that Marco would be sent back on Friday of the next week by the Cretic, which would sail from Boston direct to Pa- lermo and Naples; that was in just six days' time. Only on hearing this news did Nedda break the bonds of passivity which seemed to pin her down. When she comprehended that in a week's time she would be THE STORY OF NEDDA 13 alone, she gave a low, half-sobbing moan and flung herself upon him, clinging to him and shuddering, and for a long time he found it impossible to calm her. When at last she grew quiet it hurt, him to see her, there was such a look in her face. Her features seemed cut from wax, they were so immobile and colorless. Was this his little Nedda who, a few short weeks ago, had been all sparkle and cheerfulness and response .'' He found relief in busying himself about whatever needed to be done in the way of preparation. He asked at the city Office of Works for the six months' leave of absence which was allowed in such cases from the department he was serving, and also trans- ferred his savings in the Italian bank near where they lived to Nedda's name, so that she could draw them out as she needed them. These gradual ac- cumulations amounted to two hundred and forty dollars, part of which he had brought from Italy. He drew just ten dollars to take with him for pocket money, which he got changed into Italian coin, and the balance of two hundred and thirty dollars re- mained for Nedda. He believed that this would more than suffice for her confinement and the first months with the little one, and after that he might be back, who knew-f* The smallness of the amount worried him, however. Two hundred and thirty dollars would have seemed a fortune to Marco in Italy, but he knew the cost of living in this strangely expensive land, and experience had changed his standard of values. Shortly before Marco left he drew Nedda very tenderly to his side one evening and talked to her 14 THE STORY OF NEDDA of the future quite frankly and simply. He advised her as best he could what she was to do during his absence and in case he should never return. He counselled her above all to try to leam English, so that, if it became necessary later, she might the more readily find work. But at present, of course, there would be preparations for the baby to take up her time. He had made inquiries and gave her the ad- dress of an Italian doctor in the quarter whom she could send for when the hour of trial came. Then there was a woman living in the apartment below them whom they knew slightly and who might be of help. That would be better than a hospital, for Marco had a horror of hospitals, where he believed there was small consideration for the poor, and be- sides he had been told that, as a foreigner, it would be more difficult for Nedda to get admittance into one. He seemed to have foreseen everything in his love for her, and it was easy to see that he had given all the details serious thought. Above all he admon- ished her to beware of new friends here among strangers, for Marco had had many glimpses of life in the streets of this great place and he realized how young and inexperienced his little Nedda was. " And now," he concluded, " to-morrow is to be our last day together before I leave, and it must be our holi- day, dearest. We shall go down by the sea and sit there all day long and watch the waves and the sky, and it shall be a never-forgotten day for us both." So on the following day, a brilliant morning in early June, they took the daily excursion boat for one of the great beaches on the south shore, near the city. THE STORY OF NEDDA 15 and after a delightful sail down the harbor they found themselves seated on the wide crescent of shin- ing sand. What happy hours those were, sitting there together in the sunlight, breathing in fresh salt breezes and watching occasional gulls pass by ! Marco had decided well, for Nedda almost forgot her trouble; he seemed so near to her and the day was so sparkling and gay. They ate a fish dinner at a small restaurant, the only one open at that early season of the year, and they had their pictures taken together by a beach photographer, as a last souvenir. Marco promised that he would wear his copy next to his heart always, while Nedda made up her mind she would put hers beside her bed, just below the picture of the Madonna, where she could look at it a hundred times a day. And so it passed, that bright, cheerful, parting day between this boy and girl, husband and wife. It was only when they had returned to their little tenement in the North End that the shadow of ap- prehension began to deepen again and the fearful heartache of approaching parting blanched Nedda's cheeks and chilled her through and through. She clung to him despairingly all through the night, as though she could never let him leave her, for she was conscious that every hour was bringing her nearer to the moment of which she could not even bear to think. The vessel was to sail from South Boston at three o'clock, from the same dock at which they had ar- rived but little more than a year ago, so happy and hopeful and enthusiastic. Marco had asked the woman in the flat below, Mrs. Gallo, to go to the 16 THE STORY OF NEDDA boat with them, so that Nedda might have someone to return home with her; and thus everything was arranged for the departure. Most of the reservists intended to march in a body to the wharf with a band, but Marco preferred to be with Nedda till the last moment possible, and so was not to join in the procession. The next morning was a time of bustle and excite- ment, which helped them both to bear up as the final hours ticked away. Two other reservists were leav- ing from the same tenement house, and there was much movement and many animated discussions on landings and stairs. Marco had to go to the con- sulate for his papers and other little preparations had to be made. Nedda was very calm and collected, more so than she had ever been; she seemed to be attending to the various details in an almost im- personal way. It was only when she had fastened the little ribbon rosette in Italian colors, which she had made, in Marco's buttonhole that she suddenly flung herself on his breast and clung to him in a passion of weep- ing. In a few hours she would be alone, alone in this strange land, so far from home and friends, and with no one to protect her and love her. The feeling of his big firm chest against her, of his strong man's arms around her, brought to her still more over- whelmingly the sense of her coming defencelessness and isolation. He, her Marco, to be taken so far away from her, into danger, perhaps to death, and she, inexperienced, alone, amid strangers, about to become a mother, with no work and no means of getting any, not even knowing the language of this THE STORY OF NEDDA 17 country, what was to become of her? She shook against him in a convulsion of anguish and despair, holding him to her as though she could never let him go. " Marco mio, Marco caro. No, no, no," she repeated again and again, as though putting the thought of the inevitable far, far away from her. Marco was silent; with a man's reticence he found words difficult and his own emotion was so great that he dared not trust himself to speak. He stroked the small head with his hard, work-worn hand, with a tenderness that seemed to soothe her, for after a few minutes her agitation quieted and she was cry- ing silently against his breast and nestling there as a tired child, whose weariness had found refuge in a safe shelter. A knock at the door interrupted them. It was one of the other reservists come to speak to Marco. He was glad of the intrusion, for it had seemed to him that he could never put her from him, and when he moved as though to do so she held to him so despairingly that each moment seemed to make it harder to release her. He kept the other man in conversation until he believed that the crisis had passed, and when the visitor had gone Nedda was again herself and already occupied in cooking the dinner. They left for the pier about two o'clock. Marco said there was no need to start earlier. The other woman, Mrs. Gallo, was with them when INIarco turned the key in the kitchen door and gave it to Nedda and they went down the narrow stairway. Even in the dim light of the stair landing Marco saw that Nedda was very white, but she said noth- 18 THE STORY OF NEDDA ing and seemed to have regained her habitual com- posure. Marco was thankful, for he felt that he could not bear another scene like that of tlie morn- ing. If she threw herself again into his arms in such a way, he feared that he would desert country and duty and everything and remain with her. The long walk across the city to the wharf was a good thing for them both. It braced them and diverted their thoughts, and when they arrived at the pier the large crowd of reservists and those see- ing them off, who were already assembled there, made intimate talk impossible. Nedda clung very close to Marco, but she remained calm and for the most part silent. Marco was furthermore encumbered by his heavy valise, which acted as a barrier to hold them a little apart, and the presence of Mrs. Gallo, who was talkative, necessitated only general remarks. Soon the main body of reservists appeared marching onto the dock, headed by the band playing the " Hymn of Garibaldi " with deafening gusto, and this added to the excitement around them. Marco seemed to have caught some of it, for his eyes sparkled and Nedda thought with a pang that he had never looked more handsome. She had made up her mind to be brave if she could, and the music somehow gave her courage. The time was short now; most of the reservists were already aboard and the others were saying the final good-byes on all sides of them. Marco put down his valise and came quite close to Nedda. He took her hand and held it very firmly. She was trembling, but she remained quiet. Then the word " All aboard " was given and he stooped to give her THE STORY OF NEDDA 19 the final kiss. He murmured in her ear a few words of such comfort as he could think of, " I will return soon. Do not fear, my dear one," and then he was gone. She had not been able to utter a syllable in reply, and after he had left her she remained motionless and silent, staring at the great ship as one fascinated and without realization of her whereabouts. It was not till the other woman touched her that she fully understood that it was over, that she was alone. The boat began to move out from its moorings amid a babel of cries and cheers, which almost drowned the Italian " Royal March " played by the band at its loudest. Nedda remained standing where she was, seemingly oblivious of it all. Mrs. Gallo thought she recognized Marco waving from the deck and pointed him out to Nedda. This seemed to rouse her, for she took off her shawl and waved it back at him, but still she acted almost as one in sleep. When the vessel had passed out of sight and most persons had trooped off the dock, Nedda yet remained standing and gazing ahead of her, where the great black mon- ster had been which had swallowed up her Marco. Finally her companion took her by the arm and turned away, and Nedda obeyed mechanically and accompanied her. Ill How she got home Nedda never knew, for she pos- sessed no distinct recollection of returning, and the next thing she realized she was alone in her little bedroom, on her knees, praying to the picture of the Madonna over the bed. How long she prayed she had no idea; she was not sure whether she prayed all the time. Finally her knees ached and she crawled onto her bed and lay there in a misery of weeping and despair. At last she fell asleep through sheer exhaustion, and when she awoke it was dark and only a faint glimmer of light from the court below came through the window. Her head ached and throbbed and she had no desire to get up ; then she slept again, a troubled sleep of unhappy dreams, and did not awake until morning. She was hungry and faint, so she got up and built a fire and made herself some coffee. She could hardly swallow it, however, and felt as though she had not the courage to face her lonely life and would be glad to crawl back to bed again and lie there till she died. At eight o'clock Mrs. Gallo came to see her, and this forced her a little out of herself. The good woman was apparently shocked by Nedda's appear- ance and in her rough way tried to mother her. This would never do. It was washing day and Nedda must get on with her washing at once. What would THE STORY OF NEDDA 21 Marco say if he saw her like this? Thus by her practical but kindly sympathy the older woman forced the younger to face the realities of life, bitter though they were. It was days, however, before Nedda became accus- tomed to the loneliness and sense of isolation and the vague, indefinable fears which haunted her. She tried to be brave, but she was little more than a girl and it was hard to be strong all alone. Many times she lay sobbing on her bed at night until she fell asleep worn out, only to wake up even more lonely and heart-weary than when she went to bed. She found that she was happiest when she tried to follow Marco in her thoughts and to feel almost as though she were with him. Now he was in the middle of the ocean, probably sitting on deck smok- ing. Was he thinking of her, longing for her as much as she longed for him? Was he so unhappy as she was? She prayed not. Now he was in the Mediterranean, where it was warm and sunny and beautiful. He must be quite cheerful there, looking out on the sparkling waters. By this time he was at Palermo, back in their own lovely Sicily. He was landing now. She wondered whether he had been allowed to go home for a day before joining the colors. Perhaps so. He might be even then in their little home town among the hills, looking down, as from the gallery of a theatre, the beautiful sweeping valley of the Conca d'Oro to distant Palermo, yellow in the sunshine, and the blue, blue sea beyond. Of course he was with their relatives and friends ; how glad they must be to see him and how they would want to know all about her. She wondered whether he 22 THE STORY OF NEDDA would tell anyone her secret. Perhaps he would con- fide in her old grandmother. She rather hoped he would. She wanted someone whom she loved to know of her great approaching happiness and that she would not be quite alone in this far-away land. He would surely inform the dear old priest who had married them, and maybe the priest would write her a letter full of good counsel and help, for he could write very well; she had seen his writing, in an even, clear hand, in the parish book. In such musings poor little Nedda found some solace in her loneliness, though these thoughts of Marco and home often ended in a realization of her own position and in tears. However, the days wore on and slowly but surely the great event was drawing near. Mrs. Gallo said that Nedda must go to see a physician and arrange with him for his assistance when the hour arrived. So, accompanied by that good woman, Nedda went to see the one whose address Marco had given her. They climbed a dusty stairway in a building on a near-by thoroughfare. The doctor was seated in a rather dingy office, surrounded by several men cronies, all of whom were apparently deep in a politi- cal or war discussion when the two women entered. As soon as he comprehended that he had a patient he made a sign to the other men, who withdrew into an adjoining room. The doctor was fat, middle-aged, easy-going, and very Italian, with an intelligent head and a kindly, open face. He asked Nedda a good many questions, some of which seemed of a more general than a medi- cal nature, for he was evidently a curious man, who THE STORY OF NEDDA 23 took a personal interest in his patients. What was her age? Seventeen, a mere baby; they ought not to have let her marry so young. Married in Italy; ah, yes, that was the way they did it in Italy. When did she expect the baby? A month; so soon! Where in Italy was she from ? Sicily, yes ; she had the accent. The good man seemed in no hurry to terminate the conversation with this very young and very pretty little patient. Finally, as he stopped to relight his cigar, Nedda found courage to ask him the momentous ques- tion. How much would he charge her? She hated to do it, but she knew she must, with so little money in the bank and Marco so far away. The doctor eyed her shrewdly, but not in an unkindly manner. How much did her husband earn? She told him that her Marco had already been called home to Italy to join the army and that she was alone and had very little money. He took his cigar out of his mouth and made an exclamation — it sounded like an imprecation against the war — and muttered something about her being too young to be left in this way. He considered a moment and said in a voice which he intended to be very matter of fact: " My charge will be ten dollars and your husband can pay me when he comes back and gets to work again." Nedda was very grateful and began to try to thank him for his goodness, while Mrs. Gallo also became voluble in his praise; but he cut them short rather abruptly, saying, " When you need me, send for me and I shall be there." With that he got up from his chair and called to his compatriots in the 24 THE STORY OF NEDDA other room, which was a sign that the visit was at an end. Nedda and Mrs. Gallo arose and left the room as the three men returned, still in the midst of their discussion, in which the doctor immediately joined. Nedda was greatly relieved by the thought that she would be protected in her hour of trial by the old doctor, for her woman's intuition told her that he was kindness itself, and his offer to trust her for his services until Marco came back still further eased her mind. She even found it in her heart to sing a little as she sat at her window, busy making some very diminutive garments, sewing away with that pleasure which most Italian women find in the use of their needle, and with a look on her face which comes only once in a woman's life. A subject for an etching, this young girl, as she sat in the half- light of the tiny room, bending patiently over her work, with graceful dip of neck and shoulders and an expression of combined tenderness, submission, and expectancy on her face. The baby was born at night, and within a couple of hours mother and child were pronounced to be doing well and the doctor had left them in the care of Mrs. Gallo, with a promise to return after break- fast. Mrs. Gallo was more voluble than ever in her raptures over Nedda and the baby, whom she an- nounced as an undoubted prize-winner, and in her encomiums on the good doctor, who she declared must become the baby's godfather. It was a fine strong boy, weighing nearly nine pounds and very hungry and active, who appeared upon the scene, apparently determined to have a THE STORY OF NEDDA 26 share in all that went on about him. Nedda was too happy for words and could not bear to give him up again when, after some hours, he was finally put in her arms. Until she was allowed to have him, however, Mrs. Gallo appropriated him and made a great to-do about his bath and dressing and attend- ing to him and seemed indeed almost as pleased by his arrival as was Nedda. The poor woman was a good soul, and the coming of the baby took her back to her own days of young motherhood and warmed her heart by the remembrance, besides giving her something to do ; for she was a lonely old creature, living with a married daughter, who gave her little consideration or affection. Two days after baby came Nedda sat up in a chair, and within a week she was up daily, moving about her tiny flat much as usual. She did not as yet go out a great deal, however, as Mrs. Gallo was doing Nedda's marketing for her. The baby was the personification of health and vigor and divided his time between " yum-yum " and " do-do " with the keenest satisfaction. He seldom cried, but when he did he entered into the full spirit of the performance and did justice to a very sound pair of lungs. The christening took place when he was about a week old, in the basement chapel of the near-by Ital- ian church. Mrs. Gallo and the doctor were the spon- sors. The former, carrying the baby, went with Nedda to the church, and the doctor met them there at the appointed hour. The priest, a busy man with a large parish and many duties, kept them waiting a few minutes, during which time the baby protested vigorously at these unusual proceedings, but through- 26 THE STORY OF NEDDA out the actual christening he behaved perfectly and Nedda was quite the proudest of little mothers. As soon as the service was concluded the doctor was obliged to hurry away, after kissing his new godson and pinching Nedda's cheek in a fatherly way. So Nedda paid the christening fee and returned home with Mrs. Gallo, who still insisted on carrying the little Michele for her, and indeed mothered Nedda quite as much as she did the infant. Nedda's happiness with her baby would have been a beautiful thing to the onlooker, if there had been anyone to see it. She was radiant in this new-found joy. She prayed to her little picture of the Madonna with devout thankfulness for the goodness which had given her a bambino to comfort her just when her heart was breaking for Marco. She spent hours look- ing at this tiny pink and white bundle, telling herself over and over again that it was a boy and that it was really hers, even running from her work just to look at him and caress him and pat his little face and play a moment with his little toes. His eyes were like Marco's, great, dark, lustrous eyes, and his nose too was like Marco's, or would be when he was older, she was sure. His mouth was like hers, with a distinct arch to it, but then a mouth did not much matter; it was just to kiss, and while she kissed his mouth she could look at his eyes, Marco's eyes. How she loved it, her baby. How near she felt to Marco, so far away, when she had her boy, his boy, in her arms. Did the Madonna in the picture love hers more.'' Could any woman love hers more, she wondered. Did any other woman, save the dear Madonna, ever have so beautiful a babv? How could Nedda's Madonna THE STORY OF NEDDA 27 there be another baby so beautiful? Was he not Marco's baby, and was not Marco, her Marco, the handsomest and bravest fellow in all the world — her husband, her Marco, now fighting xso coura- geously for his country? Thus, while she hugged her baby close, her thoughts would revert to Marco. Was he safe ? Was he well ? She had been told that they fed the soldiers gener- ously. How happy she was for that; he was not hungry. He must be at the front by now, after nearly three months' training, and it would be cold where he was, up in the north of Italy among the mountains. She hoped he had received and was wearing the woollen scarf and socks she had knitted for him. If he had only written she would be relieved ; but as Marco did not write easily she knew she must not expect it. If he were ill or wounded he would surely send her word or get someone to do so for him; so of course he was well. She must be patient and some day news would reach her, or better still Marco would return to her, never to leave her again. In such musings, hopings, joys, and apprehen- sions the long weary days had passed for little Nedda, while she grew strong again from her confinement and fell into the routine of her new life. With all the joy of the baby and all the warmth and consolation it brought into her life there was, nevertheless, one ever-darkening shadow resting on her — the small sum of money on deposit in the bank was steadily shrinking. There was just one hundred and twenty-six dollars left and Marco had been gone only a little over three months. When the money was gone? When it was gone? The words 28 THE STORY OF NEDDA kept repeating themselves as a horrible refrain, drumming through licr head with tireless insistence. There seemed no answer, nothing to be done or thought of, only to wait. What could she do here, so alone in this strange land and with her baby need- ing so much of lier time, so much of her care? She lay awake nights, and the danger seemed to grow blacker and blacker, nearer and nearer. She tried to shut it out, to think only of the present, and to feel sure that Marco would return before the money was all spent; but the terrible thoughts and fears would come back to her and seemed crowding in on her ever closer and closer and more menacingly. She seemed to be suffocating, and so great was her sense of danger and apprehension during those dark night hours that she thought she must cry out or take up her baby and run away to some refuge where she could find help. She realized, however, that there was no help, that she was alone among strangers, and that she must face the danger alone and wait and hope and try to be brave. It was now autumn and growing cold. There was more coal to be bought to keep the two little rooms warm for baby, and coal was becoming very, very dear. Food also was growing much higher, but when she tried to eat only a little she began to lose weight and color. Mrs. Gallo, meeting her one day, noticed her pale appearance, and suspecting the cause with the sure intuition of the poor, told her that she must have plenty of good food if she wished to continue to nurse the child. The woman spoke the truth and Nedda knew it, for worry and so little to eat were be- ginning to tell on her and she was finding it more diffi- THE STORY OF NEDDA 29 cult to give the baby nourishment. At the sugges- tion of not being able to continue so doing an icy hand seemed to grasp Nedda's heart and she began to force her appetite, despite her worry and pre- occupation and the ever-recurring thought that everything she ate brought them appreciably nearer to want and perhaps to starvation. Finally she came to a resolution which seemed to promise some respite. She would change her two rooms for a single room on the inner court of the building and thus save money for coal. In her youth and inexperience she did not understand that a domi- cile without any direct sunlight would be the very worst thing for her baby. He seemed so strong and healthy that she could not imagine him as ill. Her present two tiny rooms, facing on the outer and larger court of the building, from which considerable sunshine entered for some three or four hours of the day, were at the rate of fourteen dollars a month; whereas a single room, with an alcove for the bed, facing on the narrow inner court and wholly with- out sunshine, was only about nine dollars a month: a saving of five dollars a month. There was also the cost of the gas as measured by the metre, but of that she had been so sparing that it was but a very trifling item. In addition there was finally the rental of the few pieces of furniture in the place — the chairs, table, bed, bedding, stove, and kitchen utensils. These several items — room rent, gas, and the rent of the furniture — were collected weekly, for in the North End, among the immigrant population, Shylock, whether Jew or Gentile, is at every turn and exploits necessity with the relentlessness of the hawk. IV THE tenement into which Ncdda moved was indeed a wretched hole, dark, musty, and cheerless. It had been left dirty also by the last tenant, though Nedda soon had it clean. It consisted of a room about fourteen feet square with an alcove for a bed, the main room looking through two small windows, placed together on one side, into a narrow court, or more properly a sort of well, a few yards square. As Nedda's lodging was on the second story of a five- story building, one can imagine how much light percolated down this narrow, interior well from above to the room which she occupied. The place was in a semi-light or twilight dunng the greater part of the day and by three o'clock was practicallj' in darkness. She made the best of such quarters, however, try- ing to keep a brave heart in the thought that now her money would last somewhat longer. She made the bed and tucked the baby up comfortably, and as soon as the stove was set up she had a fire going and occupied herself with her small duties. Mrs. Gallo came to see her, and though the good woman deplored the discomfort and cheerlessness of Nedda's new lodging, she recognized the need of the change from what Nedda told her; for she too was a poor woman, dependent, in fact, upon her married daughter for shelter, and poverty but too well understands the sacrifices of poverty. THE STORY OF NEDDA 31 The baby's godmother was the more sorry at Nedda's new situation because she had come to tell her that she was about to move away from Boston. The warm-hearted woman dreaded leaving *' her dear little one," as she called Nedda, so alone and unbe- friended, and she shrank still more from the necessity of telling her that she was so soon going away. Her son-in-law had found other work, which he preferred, in Worcester, and so the family were to go there at the end of the week. Nedda's grief at the news was pitiful. Mrs. Gallo was indeed her only friend and confidante in this strange land, and the good woman had been so pro- tecting and helpful in all the sad months since Marco went, especially when the baby came, that Nedda had begun to regard her almost as a parent. She wept bitterly at first, but when Mrs. Gallo, who could not bear to see such distress, told her that, if she cried herself sick, the baby would suffer, the poor little mother controlled herself by a great effort and set herself to face this new sorrow as she had met all the suffering of the past months. The kind old creature found time during the three days before her departure to run in often to see Nedda and also gave her many little things for her- self and the baby from her own scanty possessions, combined with much good advice and motherly affec- tion, so that the hours before parting were easier for Nedda. Though she had promised Mrs, Gallo to be brave and not to weep when she had gone, but to keep busy and hopeful for the baby's sake, yet when the good soul had departed and Nedda faced the fact that she 82 THE STORY OF NEDDA was now alone, without anyone near tier to whom she could go for aid or sympathy, she threw herself on her bed in the lonely room in a flood of tears such as she had not given way to since the day Marco left her. How long she lay there weeping and trembling and trying to pray the good Madonna for help and strength she never knew, but she was suddenly re- called to outer things by a baby's wail. It was her darling appealing to her ; he was hungry and perhaps cold, and his little quavering cry struck to her heart at once and steeled her with a new resolve. He needed her, her baby, and she must be resolute because of him. She got up at once, went to him, warmed him, and nursed him, and when he had fallen asleep again, satisfied and comfortable, Nedda washed her face, combed her hair, and made up her mind to be coura- geous and calm again, as she had tried to be before. Marco, who was fighting so bravely far, far away, would expect her to be brave too, and she realized that she must be tranquil for her baby's sake. Marco must not find the baby ill when he returned. She must show him how strong and patient she, a soldier's wife, had been through all these long months of separation. So she went about her duties, only wishing that she had more things to do to oc- cupy her mind and keep the sad thoughts away. To-day was the day to go to the bank. How she dreaded it, for with coal and provisions growing almost daily higher, it was hard to spend little, even with the reduced rent, and each time she drew more money away from her slender store she felt her heart sink with renewed foreboding. There was not quite THE STORY OF NEDDA 38 sixty dollars left in the bank and it was now Novem- ber, with winter just coming on, and people said that the war would surely last all winter. Try as she might she could not live at less than thirty-two or thirty-three dollars a month, and in two months at the longest she knew she would be destitute. She made up her mind to write to Marco in the care of his regiment and tell him everything. She was most reluctant to worry him, as she was sure he must be very much occupied and perhaps even ill or wounded. But she felt that he was still her natural protector, though the ocean divided them, and probably he could explain to the government, being in Italy, and get help for her and the baby. Some time previously, not long after the birth of her baby, she had gone to the consul's office, as Marco had told her to do, and applied for the monthly relief allowance to the family of a soldier at the front. After consulting the records it was explained to her, however, that inasmuch as it ap- peared that Marco had left Italy before he had reached the age for his military service, she was not entitled to any such aid, because his present war service counted only for his regular military service. Small as is the amount allowed monthly to those reservists' families who are recipients of the same from the Italian government, which in this supreme struggle has very many calls on its resources, and wholly inadequate as this sum is for their support here in America, yet it would have been of much help to Nedda, and to find that she was not to re- ceive it was a great disappointment. While they were making the matter plain to her 84 THE STORY OF NEDDA she had seen with unsparing clearness of vision that all that now stood between her and starvation was the money still remaining in the bank, though fast melting away. As soon as it was exhausted, which would be before long, she would be forced into the street with her baby and obliged to beg for bread, like the very poor sometimes did in Italy ; but even that life she knew would not be possible in the cold New England winter. When she had tried to pic- ture her condition to those at the consul's office, they had told her very kindly and patiently that there were a great many other Italian women in Boston in exactly the same plight and that they were unfortunately not in a position to give such relief unless the government allowed it. They had also advised her to try immediately to find work. But how could she do so in this strange city, where she knew only a few words of the language and with her baby so young and still nursing and unable to be left alone for long at a time.'* She felt it was im- possible, and she had come away from the consulate with a bitter feeling of desperation and hopelessness and her eyes full of angry tears. So she wrote to Marco, and though she tried to make her story brave and confident and to keep the tears from falling on the page, it was a poor, blotted, and hardly legible little scrawl when she had done. She knew Marco could write but very poorly and even signed his name with difficultj\ She hardly hoped for an answer from him ; indeed, he had not yet replied to her news announcing the birth of their baby. Still she trusted that, when he received word from her of her situation, he would tell his THE STORY OF NEDDA 35 superiors about it and persuade " la patria " to send her some assistance. It seemed to her that thej could not let her starve with her baby, when her Marco had been among the first to ^return at the call of Italy and was even now fighting in her defence. As soon as she had dispatched the letter she was relieved, but before long the old fears and forebod- ings returned and she found it difficult to keep from worrying or to sleep at night. What if the letter never reached Marco.? What if he were unable to persuade them to aid her.? The consul had said that the country was giving all the help it could possibly afford and that there were very many others like her to be assisted. What if Marco were ill, too ill to read what she had written.? What if — if he were dead.? One poor woman in a near-by street had only just been notified of the death of her husband at the front, many weeks after it had occurred. One after another these thoughts crowded in on her until she lived in a misery of dread and uncer- tainty. She strove to shut out such fears, to con- vince herself that all would be well, but continually they returned to her, these terrible apprehensions, until she felt that her courage was breaking and that she was becoming completely unnerved. In her desperation she finally brought herself to write to her relatives in the little mountain village above Palermo, in the hope that they might send her something. Her parents were dead and she addressed the missive to her old grandmother, who had always been so good and so kind that, next to Maroo, she 86 THE STORY OF NEDDA seemed the best person Nedda had ever known. Grandmother could not read, but Nedda knew that the priest would read it all aloud to tlicin. She was very loath to appeal to them, for she knew how poor they were and she feared that, in this time of war, they must be even more in need ; but when she looked at her baby and thought of the fate which hung over them both, she hesitated no longer. There in Sicily, where all things grew and flourished in the sunshine, they would not starve, however poor they might be; while here in winter time in this strange cold land, without money and without work, she and her baby were faced with nothing less than starvation. It was an ill-expressed, ill-written, little letter when she had finished it, even less presentable than that to Marco, though she had tried her best and rewritten it several times; but she was so shaken and wretched and preoccupied by anxiety and hesita- tion that she could not seem to think what to say or how to make them understand her circumstances. Blots would come on the paper and tears too, strive as she would to be calm, and the more she tried to write well and clearly, the harder it seemed. At last it was done, however, and posted, and for a little while she again felt more cheerful, though the old fears still haunted her with the persistence of bad dreams. She was becoming pale and thin, and when she caught sight of herself in the glass, all she could see were great, black, staring eyes, which seemed to have grown very, very large, looking at her from a drawn, pinched little face which she hardly recog- THE STORY OF NEDDA 37 nized as her own. Her condition, too, was beginning to react on the child, which had grown white and thin also and was restless and troublesome. Once or twice, after she had been crying and had then nursed the baby, it vomited, and she realized that her own agita- tion was the cause of its indigestion. She tried to get it to take cow's milk, but it refused, after having been nearly four months at the breast, and when she finally persuaded it to do so, it was more distressed than ever and vomited again. She made up her mind that she must be self-con- trolled and must wholly banish all unhappy thoughts and fears, if her baby were to be saved, and by such a continuous effort of will as she had never exerted before in her life she forced herself for the time being to dismiss from her mind all consideration of the future. She felt as if she were held in a vise, as though she were being slowly crushed by some re- lentless power, but she compelled herself to continue calm and self-repressed. The strain, however, was telling on her, even more seriously than when she had been able to relieve her grief in tears, and the child continued ailing and restless. NEDDA saw that she must get work before it was too late and they were penniless, so she went again to the consul's office to ask where she could apply for it; if possible something that she could take home with her to do. They gave her the ad- dresses of several employment agencies in the city. She returned home and dressed herself as neatly as she could and, discarding her head shawl, wearing for the occasion a fur cap of Marco's, to look more American, found her way to the first place on the list. She entered a dingy room full of waiting women who seemed to eye her so ferociously from every comer that she wanted to flee, but she remembered her baby and went on into a second room or office, where a thin, sharp-featured woman was seated at a desk. She addressed this person as well as she could in her broken English, but before she had uttered a dozen words she was interrupted by a rasping voice, saying, " You must learn to speak English first; we do not place foreigners who do not speak English." The tone was so decided that she had not the courage to reply, and with a mur- mured " Grazie " (Thank you) she retreated, fol- lowed by a dozen pairs of relentless eyes as she passed through the outer room and onto the street. How she longed to fly back to her poor little room and hide her shame and disappointm-ent in the pil- THE STORY OF NEDDA 39 lows of her bed, but the thought of her baby nerved her with renewed detennination, and she looked for the next address which the consul's clerk had given her. It was a long way off in a different part of the town, but the walk did her good and seemed to soothe her and give her more self-control. On entering the agency she found what seemed to her a less hostile atmosphere, and the person in charge was more considerate in her manner. She asked Nedda's age and nationality, whether she was married or single, and listened patiently while Nedda found words to convey brokenly that she would like to find work such as sewing which she could do at home. When Nedda had managed to make herself understood, the woman in charge replied that, al- though she did not as a rule place Italians, she would get such work for Nedda, if anyone applied to have it so done, and took her name and address. She did not, however, encourage the little applicant very much and told her that she would notify her if she had anything for her. Nedda left the office with despair in her heart and again consulted her list. There was but one name remaining thereon, an address on Tremont Street. She set out for the same at once, without giving herself time to think or to lose courage. When she reached the agency she found it full of persons looking for employment, and after she had made her wants known she was told that they did not consider girls wishing to take sewing home, but that, if she wanted to " go out " as " help," she could wait in the outer room and perhaps they might have something for her later. The thought of working 40 THE STORY OF NEDDA out as a domestic was strange and wholly repugnant to Ncdda — she a married woman ! What would Marco say? In the hope, however, that she might find some such service for part only of each day, which would permit her to go back to her baby when necessary, she sat down among a number of other women of the domestic class, none of them Italians, feeling more lonely and ill at ease than at any time in her life. She wanted more than ever before to flee away and seek some deserted place where she could find relief in tears, but she realized that she must remain there and keep calm, for was not this perhaps her last chance to get anything to do? After a long wait she was called in to interview a rather coarse woman who wanted a maid of all work for a lodging house, but as soon as Nedda began to reply to questions in her halting English she was dismissed as impossible. After another long interval she was again called in to confront a more ladylike person, who immediately demanded her references, and when it appeared that Nedda had none, the prospective employer drew back in horrified surprise and Nedda was at once informed by the woman at the desk that without references they could not undertake to place her. She produced the piece of consulate letter paper on which the consul's assist- ant had written the names of the various employ- ment agencies, but that seemed to have no effect on her interlocutors, and she was summarily turned away. She stumbled down the dark stairs into the street with anger and mutiny in her heart at the bloodless injustice of a fate which had placed her and her THE STORY OF NEDDA 41 innocent baby in this horrible position from which there seemed no escape. They must starve then, here in this cold, strange, friendless place, because her Marco had gone back at the call of duty to fight for his country. Where was the good Madonna that she allowed such things? Surely she must know all of Nedda's trouble or else prayers were of no avail. Terrible thoughts crossed Nedda's mind, thoughts that made her shudder and feel guilty, even as they came to her. Was there a Madonna who protected and loved poor young mothers like Nedda, or was it all a delusion and was the Madonna so very far away that she could not hear, could not know, could not see those who so needed her? She walked along the street aimlessly, hardly thinking of her direction, intent on the conflict that was raging within her. It was dusk and the street lamps and shop windows were lighting up, but Nedda kept on, regardless of her surroundings. She collected herself enough to know that she was going towards her home, and that was all. Suddenly she felt a hand upon her arm and a voice which seemed very near and yet very far off said: "Where are you going, little girl? Don't you want to come and have a drink with me? " She drew away as though she had been stung, for she had lived long enough in a large city to know the various phases of street life, and she understood very well what such a salutation and invitation meant. But with the natural revulsion of a thor- oughly innocent and good woman, she instinctively stepped back and hastened her pace. The speaker, however, continued by her side, and after a moment 42 THE STORY OF NEDDA he began again. " You don*t look over-flush with money, little girl, and if you '11 go with me for the evening and be good to me, there 's ten dollars in it for you." Nedda's heart stood still. Ten dollars, enough to keep her baby and herself for nearly a fortnight, to be made in a few hours: and she was almost destitute; in a month they would have nothing. How easy it would be to support them both in such a way ; only once in every few days would the sacri- fice be necessary. She shuddered at the horror of it. But it meant safety, safety for her baby, a sunny room to live in, and peace of mind, and the baby would grow rosy and fat again. As for herself, what did it matter, if she could save her child? She heard the voice still persuading her, but she was not listening to what it said ; she was thinking, try- ing to think it all out, and in desperate haste, for herself. Then in a flash she thought of Marco, her Marco, her husband, so strong and good and true, and at the remembrance of him and of their love for each other her soul revolted from the creature at her side, and she flung off the hand that rested on her arm with an exclamation of indignation and hurried on through the crowded street. In a moment she understood intuitively that she was alone, the man had ceased to accompany her, and she felt a sense of relief, as though she had escaped from something poisonous and pestilential. VI WHEN Nedda reached home, faint and quiver- ing from the emotions of the past few hours, her attention, as she climbed the dark stairs, was ar- rested by a baby's cry. She recognized it at once with a mother's intuition; it was her little one cry- ing. She hastened into the room and took him in her arms ; his eyes were very bright and he looked flushed and restless. She placed him at her breast, but he refused nourishment, which surprised her, as he had been a number of hours alone, longer than she had ever left him before. She tried to quiet him, but could not; he tossed uneasily in her arms, his cries gradually quavering off into a weak, convulsive sort of sob, which gripped at her heart strings and tortured her with apprehension. For with fear and misgiving she realized the truth. Her baby was ill and suffering, perhaps very ill. She knew she must find help, must go for the doctor. She thanked the dear Madonna that the doctor was so kind and good, for he would help her ; she knew that. Having put the baby back on the bed, she started immediately, but its cries, now louder, now subdued into a low, plaintive wail, tortured her as she descended the stairs, and seemed pulling her back, until she fairly ran out to the street in her agitation. She hardly knew how she reached the well-remem- bered office, but when she found herself there it was 44 THE STORY OF NEDDA closed. The proprietor of a small tobacco shop on the ground floor told her that it was after the doc- tor's office hours and he had gone home ; in fact the tobacconist had not seen him pass for several days and thought he might be ill. Where was his home.' The man did not remember exactly, but after con- sulting the directory he gave her the address. It was some distance away ; too far to walk, the man suggested. She answered that she could walk, and without a moment's delay was out of the door and on her way. It was a long stretch to Charlestown, over bridges and car tracks, but Nedda counted neither eflFort nor distance and sped on almost at a run over the dark, uneven pavements. She had but one thought, one hope, one prayer — to save her baby. After many mistakes and inquiries, assisted luckily by the doctor's address written on a piece of paper by the tobacconist, she found his home, a modest lodging in a tenement of the better class. She rang the bell, and even knocked at the door in her im- patience, which she could no longer restrain. After what seemed an interminable interval the door was opened by an elderly woman in a dressing gown, who seemed to divine Nedda's quest before she spoke and sadly informed her that the doctor was very ill, had been so for nearly a week, and could see no patients. Nedda gripped at the door casing and felt as though she would fall. The good woman, who un- derstood her visitor's distress, went to a desk in the adjoining room and wrote an address on a piece of paper, which she gave to Nedda. It was the name of another doctor. " Go to him," she told the pale THE STORY OF NEDDA 45 and agitated girl, " he will assist you." Nedda thanked her as best she could and hastened away. The other practitioner lived back in the city proper and it was again a long walk. Nedda stumbled sev- eral times, for her strength was beginning to fail. She had not eaten since morning and her day had been one of constant strain and suspense. When she reached the physician's house he was out on a case, and Nedda waited in his office more than an hour before he arrived. She explained about her baby as well as she was able, for the doctor was not an Italian. He at once began to make difficulties about going out again so late; it was nearly nine o'clock and, he told her, he had had nothing to eat since luncheon. Could not the child wait until the morning.'' Was it so very ill.'' But Nedda insisted. From her description he said he judged it was only a cold the baby was suffering from, perhaps a little indigestion. He would give her some medicine for the child, which would lower the fever, if any, and induce sleep ; and he would be there in the morn- ing. Nedda, however, still insisted that he should come at once. In order to discourage her still further he added that his fee was never less than three dollars for a visit so late at night as this ; for he saw her excited state and believed she was in a nervous condition and had overestimated the seriousness of the baby's illness. Nedda stood aghast. Three dollars, and she had so little money now between her and starvation. Then she seemed to hear again the feeble wail of her little one as she had fled down the stairs, and she clutched at the doctor's sleeve and appealed to him to come. 46 THE STORY OF NEDDA Her tone and manner convinced him that she would not be put off, and putting on his coat and hat with due deliberation and placing a few medicines in his handbag, he followed her out into the street. So fast was her pace he found it difficult to keep up with her. He made several attempts to stop her so that they might board a car, but she did not seem to hear him or notice him, so intent was she on her rapid passage through the streets. So, muttering something under his breath not over-complimentary to " these excitable Italians," he followed her lead. From the doctor's office to the North End was not a great distance luckily, and in a quarter of an hour they were at Nedda's lodging. The baby was no longer crying and seemed to sleep, but as soon as the doctor took it up it began to give little convulsive cries and moans. He looked at it gravely, and Nedda, who was intently watching him, felt her heart sink as she saw the lines deepen on his face, for she knew that her fears were but too well justified and that her baby was really ill. The doctor gave the tiny sufferer some medicine and then stayed to watch the effect. It was evident that he thought the case critical. After about thirty minutes he gave the child another dose and shortly afterwards expressed himself as satisfied. The little thing was now perfectly quiet and lay breathing easily and its face was less flushed. " Give this medicine again in two hours, just as you have seen me give it," he explained to Xedda, " and keep the room warm. Don't let your baby get chilled again by allowing the temperature to fall in this room. You must not try to save coal or you THE STORY OF NEDDA 47 will lose jour child," he said, stirring the grate of the stove and throwing on some more coal. " If the child grows worse again, send for me. Here is my telephone number." He gave her his car4. " Any apothecary will telephone to me for you. I do not think he will be worse again," he continued, " and I will come back in the morning." He picked up his hat and bag and started to leave, but Nedda felt that she must know more and could not let him go without his telling her the whole truth. She went to him and put her hand on his sleeve, looking up into his face with mute question in her eyes, for words failed her. " Yes," he answered, understanding her, " your baby is ill, quite ill, though he is now much better than when I came. You did well to insist on my coming at once. He was threatened, I think, with pneumonia, but a child so much run down is liable to have anything. What a place to keep an infant in! I do not believe you have a ray of sun here," he continued, looking into the court. " If you wish your child to live and be well, you must give it sun- shine. A plant would die in this room in a week." Nedda made no reply. She knew the truth of every word he said, had known it for weeks, as she watched her baby failing daily. Yet what was she to do.'' Even this place might not be hers for shelter long. She looked down at the child with breaking heart, but she remained silent, for she felt that there was no time now to tell him the facts, and she was not sure that he would be patient to hear all her story. He was very different from the dear old doctor who had brought her baby into the world. He put on his 48 THE STORY OF NEDDA hat with a self-satisfied air, as though he had done his duty in the circumstances, and witli an admoni- tion to Nedda not to forget to give the medicine when directed, he departed. Nedda was alone, alone there with her sick baby and with poverty and failure and hopelessness. She stood motionless while she heard the physician de- scend the stairs and close the street door, and for a long time afterward. Then she raised her eyes from the child as though to seek assistance in the empty room. Her face was white as chalk and wore a look of such weariness and dejection that her youth seemed almost to have passed from her and a stranger might at first sight have taken her for a much older woman. She looked down again at the child, which was now asleep, and then again around her, as though seeking help, until her glance in its aimless passage around the room fell on the small print of the Madonna above the bed. Her eyes remained fixed on the picture, her lips quivered with emotion, and falling on her knees beside the bed, her face pressed close to the baby, she poured out her soul in mute appeal to the Divine Mother above. How long she prayed she did not know, but a movement of the baby aroused her, and a moment later the stroke of one from a near-by steeple told her that it was time to give the medicine. As soon as she had given the dose and replenished the fire with unstinting hand from her small supply of coal, she sank again to her knees by the bedside in silent supplication. The child fell asleep immediately and continued to sleep on peacefully, and her instinct told her that he was better and that he was safe. THE STORY OF NEDDA 49 What mattered anything now so long as she had her baby? She would work for it, suffer for it, die for it, if need be, but it should be saved. The doctor pronounced the child out of danger when he returned in the morning, and with instruc- tions to keep the room warm and give the medicine at stated times he duly collected his fee of five dollars for the two visits and left. Before he went he advised Nedda to move to a sunny apartment as soon as she could, and when she informed him frankly that her husband was at the war and that she could not afford a better lodging, he told her that, as soon as the child was a little stronger and the weather more moderate, she must wrap it up warmly and take it out into the sunshine for two hours each day. " It must have sunlight somehow," he said, " even if you cannot get it here." Though his advice was excellent and he seemed really interested to help her, he made no suggestion of lowering his fee in the face of her acknowledged poverty, and Nedda was too proud to ask him to do so. When he had gone she found that his fees and the cost of the medicines which he had prescribed had lessened her small balance by nearly seven dollars, and with his injunction that the room must be kept warm in the future she knew there would be an in- creased expenditure for fuel. Now that the breath- less suspense of the child's sudden illness was over, Nedda was released from that anguish, only to be confronted again with the rapidly advancing spectre of destitution. For two days she stayed with the child continually, and then, as he appeared to be much better, she 50 THE STORY OF NEDDA wrapped him up warmly and, in accordance with the doctor's advice, took him out into the sunshine. They had been out for some time and she was return- ing home, when she was forced to stop and wait on the street corner by a long funeral procession com- ing from the Italian church of the North End and now on its way to the cemetery. Many persons be- sides Nedda stood watching the long line of mourners, when a woman who lived in the same tenement house with Nedda volunteered the information that it was the funeral of the good Dr. Gadroni, beloved by all the Italian poor of the North End, which was passing. The news was a severe shock to Nedda in her weakened and nervous condition, for in the death of the old doctor she felt that she had lost her last friend in this great, lonely city. She had already decided to go to him and ask his advice and help as soon as he was better, and now he too had been taken away from her. A crushing weight of despair seemed to fall on her, and when she had reached her lodging and made her baby comfortable, she sank again on her knees beside the bed, overcome by hopelessness and the sense of desolation. She found, however, that she no longer had the strength or inclination to pray, so completely was she disheartened. vn THE weekly visit to the bank and the sight of the pitifully small sum remaining on her deposit book stirred her from her apathy with a sense of the necessity of finding work without further delay. But where should she turn for it? She knew it was use- less to go back to the employment agencies, for she had no references and they seemed so indifferent to helping her. She attempted to get a place in many shops and stores, but her slight knowledge of Eng- lish and her hesitation and timidity were her undoing, whenever she presented herself, and she saw that there was no hope of her being employed by any American firm. Finally she tried the small Italian shops in her own quarter, but they all seemed to be supplied with help. She was returning home, quite exhausted and hopeless, when, in passing a fruit stall at a corner of the street where she lived, evidently kept by one of her compatriots, at which several persons were making purchases, she heard the proprietress say in Italian to an impatient customer : " You must wait a minute. I have not four hands to serve every- one at once. My assistant has left me." Nedda stood still. Here was an opportunity. She waited till after the buyers were served and then offered her services to the stall keeper, speaking in Italian, which gave her courage. It happened 62 THE STORY OF NEDDA that this person was also a Sicilian and they dropped into the dialect at once. Yes, the woman needed a helper, but she could not afford to pay more than six dollars a week, and the hours were from eight in the morning till eight at night and till ten on Saturday nights, with half an hour at noon for din- ner. Nedda explained to her that she had a young baby near by, which must be nursed at intervals, and that if she might also go home for half an hour at four o'clock and again for a little while on Satur- days at seven o'clock to see to her baby, she could come. The other agreed and it was understood that Nedda should begin on the morrow. " Wear warm clothes," her prospective employer called out to her as she started away. " It is cold work standing out here all day at this time of year, and I don't care to be bothered with any more assistants falling ill." All the way home a voice seemed to be repeating to Nedda in ringing tones : " Saved ! Saved ! " Six dollars a week — more than twenty-four dollars a month and that in addition to the money still re- maining in the bank. Almost sufficient each week to pay the rent, for the heat, and to buy food, and by drafts of only a dollar or two a week at the bank there would be enough money to last through the cold weather. " Saved ! Saved ! " She ran up the stairs in her excitement and, taking the baby up from the bed, awoke it with kisses and joyous protesta- tions. " Saved ! Saved ! " In her happiness she took the little print of the Madonna down from the wall and kissed it tenderly and reverently, for had not the Madonna saved them, found her this work, just when there seemed no THE STORY OF NEDDA 58 escape from the terrible net which enmeshed her ! The reaction from her previous despair was so great that, for a time, she was almost beside herself and kept talking aloud to the baby and herself and repeating the great good fortune, as though she could not say it too often. Soon the baby began to cry and she realized that it was hungry, and this brought her back to the sober realities of life. She took the child in her arms and nursed it, and from excitement she passed into a mood of quiet thankfulness and a peace such as she had not known for months. The sombre veil of uncertainty had in- deed lifted and she already looked out into the future with confidence, feeling her baby and herself safe until Marco should come back. How she would work, how useful she would be at the fruit stall; she would make herself so necessary that the mistress would never want her to go. But of course she would be obliged to leave when Marco returned, for he would wish all to be just as it had been before he left. It was unfortunate that she must be so much away from the baby and that she could no longer take him out of doors, as the doctor had ordered; but then the weather was very bad at present, too bad for so young a baby to be out, and she would keep plenty of coal in the stove and the room so warm and comfortable that he would always be very cosey while she was gone. She would nurse him well each morning and again at noon and once more at four o'clock, and she would tie him safely in the bed, so that he could not fall out, just as she had seen work- ing mothers do in Italy. Then on Sunday she would 54 THE STORY OF NEDDA be free and would have the baby all to herself and be able to mend its little clothes and love it and make up to it for having been absent so much from it all the week. The next morning Nedda was up at an early hour. She had the fire going, the baby washed and dressed and nursed and comfortably tucked in on the bed, her own toilet made, and breakfast eaten by half past seven. Before eight she was at the fruit stall, eager for the duties that lay before her. The woman who kept the booth was married, but had a drunken husband, who took no interest in the trade, which was wholly in the hands of his wife, a large, stout, aggressive creature, who knew her own mind and ruled with a rod of iron. She drank, too, at times, but her commercial instinct was her strong- est passion, and during business hours she was never absent, upless at the wharves or market purchasing fruit. The only evidence of an occasional bout of drinking on her part was a red face and a shrewish temper. It fell to Nedda to do all the hard work of a rough and tumble trade. She had to open the crates of newly arrived fruit, sort and arrange the various kinds for sale, do up all packages of the same which had been sold, and deliver many of them in the neigh- borhood, for the trade was largely with the popula- tion of the North End. At night her hands were chapped and sore and were often cut and bleeding from splinters or sharp twine, while her legs and indeed her whole body ached from continual stooping, lifting, and running errands. This, in addition to nursing her baby, doing housework at home early in THE STORY OF NEDDA 55 the morning and late at night, and with hardly any time for rest or to eat properly, was a severe strain on her vitality. The relief, however, from the ter- rible worry and uncertainty in which she had been living was so great that the physical strain and hard work of her new life seemed but a light burden in comparison. The customers were mostly her compatriots, and they were of all kinds, from little street Arabs or newsboys, each buying a single banana at a time, to restaurant keepers and comfortably well-off fami- lies. There were a good many Israelites also, the Jewish quarter adjoining and almost interlocking with the Italian quarter, and though they were hard bargainers, they were steady buyers and always with ready money and therefore desirable patrons. The fruit dealer herself did most of the selling. For this Nedda was very glad, as the American money always troubled her, especially when she had to make change quickly. Sometimes, however, she was obliged to sell also, when there was a rush of business or when the mistress went to market. It was always a nervous time for Nedda when she acted as saleswoman. Her employer had the eye of a lynx for every cent due, knew the stock to a banana, and would have detected any error in the accounting with- out fail, Nedda felt sure. What would happen if the stand should be the loser by a mistake of hers, Nedda dared not think. Most of the purchasers were pleasant to deal with and many of them were Italians of the neighborhood whom Nedda knew by sight. There was one man, however, quite young and smartly dressed and 66 THE STORY OF NEDDA apparently well off, who often bought fruit, but the sight of whom always made Nedda uneasy and filled her with a vague alarm. With a good woman's sen- sitiveness she felt danger in the way he looked at her, and she shrank into the back of the stall when- ever he appeared. Sometimes the stall keeper was occupied and she was obliged to serve him, and it seemed to her that he generally appeared just when they were most busy. Though clearly of foreign extraction, perhaps an Italian, a Spaniard, or a Greek, he had evidently grown up in America, if he had not been born here, as he spoke only English, of which she was glad, for when he tried to enter into conversation with her while she was doing up his bundle, she pretended not to understand his remarks. This did not prevent his pinching her arm on several occasions when she was so employed, and only the thought of her baby and the fear of losing her place, for he was a steady cus- tomer, prevented her from throwing the package of fruit in his face. One day the proprietress, who seemed to know the affairs of most of her patrons, volunteered the in- formation to Nedda that he was a " bad man," who owned "a joint" near by; "but," she continued, " he makes plenty of money and is a good spender, so it 's none of my affair." This intelligence only confirmed Nedda's suspicions, for she had felt a sinis- ter and forbidding something about this man ever since she first saw him. She became the more re- served whenever he appeared and avoided serving him every time she could. VIII THE days passed on with varying fortunes for Nedda. Her place was a hard one, her em- ployer a coarse, bad-tempered tyrant who, when in an ill humor, which was not infrequently the case, took an unconcealed delight in bullying and hector- ing her poor little assistant and in " driving " her for all she was worth. Nedda found that she was seldom free to go home before nine or half past at night, though the hour understood had been eight o'clock, save on Saturday nights, and when she did return she was frequently almost dropping from fatigue. Moreover, the baby was clearly suffering from lack of attention and the long hours by itself, and Nedda, who was so tired and spent when she got back, was finding it more and more difficult to nurse it. It was now nearly six months old and the teething period, always a trying time, was approaching and the baby was growing fretful and restless. Nedda often en- tered the room to find it whimpering, and her heart sank within her at the thought that it might often be crying and unhappy all alone. But what could she do.'' There was not enough money to hire any- one to look after it ; she could not wholly make both ends meet as it was. It was too cold at the fruit stand to take her baby with her, and she was so busy there that she could have given it no care if it had 58 THE STORY OF NEDDA been by her side. So she tried to be brave and to persuade herself that all was going on well, though the baby's thinness and palor and its evident wretchedness wrung her heart whenever she looked at it. She had received no reply from Marco or from her old grandmother since she wrote to them, though more than seven weeks had passed. Inasmuch as she had work, she was not worrying quite so much at their not having sent her any assistance ; but the non-receipt of news, especially from Marco, tortured her with suspense. What if he were dead? She had never felt so alone before, so overborne with anxiety. Her baby was ill, her Marco gone, swallowed up in the great tide of war, her own strength failing from overwork and worry, and there was no one to help her, not one friend to encourage her by word or smile. It was hard, very hard, and Nedda in her bitterness and hopelessness sometimes found it diffi- cult to pray any more to the Madonna, who seldom seemed to hear her. It was true that she had found work, but what work! She felt that a slave could not be treated more harshly or driven harder through the twelve weary hours when she was at the beck and call of her employer. The latter seemed to begrudge more and more even the two short half hours at twelve and four o'clock, when Nedda went back to nurse her baby, though it had been understood that she should have these brief interv^als. Often the woman made up for them by holding Nedda as late as possible, after her long day's work should have been done, to assist in various additional duties. THE STORY OF NEDDA 69 Christmas and New Year's had passed uneventfully and Nedda was thankful for the rush of business on those days to occupy her mind, for otherwise her loneliness would have been unbearable. She lighted two small candles before the picture of the Madonna on Christmas Eve and again at New Year's, and prayed there with her baby in her arms. But she could not keep back the thought of a year ago, when she had her Marco with her, and the memories of every other previous holiday in her life, when she had always been among relatives and friends. The sense of her complete isolation bore in on her and overwhelmed her, and she found herself sobbing even in the midst of her prayers. She knew, however, that she must continue to be brave, if she were to go on ; so she crowded back the flood of memories, dried her eyes, and forced herself to be calm. Luckily the hard work of the day had on each occasion so exhausted her that mercifully she soon found a refuge in sleep. It was now mid-January and bitterly cold weather. Nedda, who had only a shawl for extra protec- tion, found it hard to keep warm during all the long hours standing at the entrance to the stall in the open air. Her hands suffered most, for she could not do her work with mittens on. The elder woman, who possessed a warm cloak, sat sheltered in a corner at the rear of the booth most of the time and made Nedda do all of the cold work and even the making of the change, which required bare hands, though she observed Nedda carefully from her comer. This was a difficult task for Nedda, as she could never get accustomed to this strange foreign currency. 60 THE STORY OF NEDDA The buyers were sometimes impatient to conclude the transactions and be ffonc, which confused her the more. To take twelve cents' worth of apples and fif- teen cents' worth of bananas out of a dollar in a hurry and give the right sum in return was a breathless business, and she often wondered how she got through it. Her mistress, who sat watching with an eagle eye, often came forward to consult her about the last sale and Nedda's heart stood still meanwhile, for fear there might be a mistake. Once she caught herself in an error just in time, and the customer, who was a decent young fellow, returned the over- amount he had received. This experience made her the more nervous and she prayed for warmer weather, when the proprietress would again handle the money. Under such conditions of overwork, fatigue, and worry Nedda would have been more than human if an accident or mistake of some kind had not occurred. The inevitable happened one cold, damp evening, when she was aching in every joint and ready to drop from exhaustion. The fruit woman was sitting huddled up as usual in the back of the recess, very surly from the effect of too much alcoholic indulgence the night before, and still worse tempered because of a poor day's trade. A customer appeared and bought a number of different kinds of fruit, after much changing around and redeciding, which in itself was very confusing to the poor little saleswoman. At last the package was made up and paid for, but hardly had the purchaser left when Nedda's employer came forward from her corner to investigate. She THE STORY OF NEDDA 61 looked at the slip on which Nedda had entered the amount and made her enumerate the different kinds of fruit which she had sold, and even as she did so Nedda remembered that she had neglected to charge ten cents for three apples. The woman descended on the omission like some savage creature on its prey, and her wrath was mer- ciless. She accused Nedda of trying to cheat her, denounced her as dishonest and a " bad lot," and even threatened to give her over to the police. Nedda tried to explain and offered to make good the loss, but the enraged vender refused to listen and con- tinued to vituperate. She almost pushed Nedda out of the booth, telling her that she was through with her and had had enough of her. Though a week's wages were almost due her, the stall keeper made no suggestion of paying the same and kept reiterating that Nedda had been cheating her out of much money. The poor girl was no match for this virago, and indeed she was glad to get away from such vilification and invective. She left the place in silence, followed by savage abuse, which echoed in her ears long after she had reached her room. The baby was evidently more ailing than usual, which distracted Nedda's attention somewhat from her misfortune; but min- gled with the denunciations of the woman, which still seemed to pursue her, a bitter refrain kept re- peating itself in her ears: "What will you do now.? What will you do now.? " for she saw that she was confronted, and in mid-winter, with the same terrible situation as before she had finally found a position at the stall. 62 THE STORY OF NEDDA There was a good deal less than twenty dollars now in the bank, for Nedda had been forced to draw small sums almost weekly to help out with the coal and other extras. In two or three weeks at most she would be destitute, and her heart sank within her, since she knew that, in such weather, destitution meant death for the baby, if not for her. She finally decided to return to the booth and plead with the mistress to take her back again. It was a hard thing to do, but she recognized that she must flinch from nothing to protect her child. When she got there, however, she saw another girl even more youthful than herself already filling her place, and she understood why the proprietress had been so willing to discharge her: she had found a younger assistant who could probably work for less wages. IX NEDDA turned away with such a sense of defeat and hopelessness as she had never felt before. It seemed as if all doors were closed against her and as though there were no escape from the grim spectre that stalked silently beside her. Retracing her steps to her room, she replenished the fire and nursed the baby ; but she was wholly broken in spirit and benumbed, and what she was doing seemed to her almost useless, for it was only putting off the inevitable by a few days. Why nurse the child, why try to keep the place warm, when they would soon be without either heat or food.? Would it not be better, more humane to them both, for they were both suffering, to take her little one and walk down to the harbor, so near by, and end it all at once.'' She dared not raise her eyes to the Madonna, for she was aware that such thoughts were sinful; but she had not the strength to combat them, and indeed the idea of death began to have a strange fasci- nation for her. Death, at least, offered an escape from her tragic condition — from want and heart hunger and uncertainty and apprehension. However, as the hours passed, something in her brought back the old fighting spirit, the determina- tion to save her child if she could, and she made up her mind to try at once for employment, perhaps in some other fruit store. She had learned how to sell 64 THE STORY OF NEDDA fruit and how to pack it and deliver it and perhaps some dealer might want help. She started out at once and wandered until it was dark, asking at every fruit stall for work. She found her way to the market, where there were many such dealers, but wherever she applied the answer was always the same. No one seemed in need of assistance, or per- haps it was her foreign appearance and broken English that were against her. She came home long after it was dark, more dis- pirited than before, if that were possible, and so weary that she had hardly the strength to take her clothes off and crawl into bed. The baby was sleep- ing, which was a relief, for she knew that she was too spent to be able to nurse it until she had had some rest. So greatly was she exhausted that she fell asleep almost at once, but it was a troubled sleep, filled with the sense of impending calamity, and indeed sorrow seemed to be as much her bed- fellow as her companion by day. Towards morning she awoke to find the baby rest- less and feverish. She took it up and tried to nurse it, but it refused nourishment, just as it had done when it had been so ill before. As the hours dragged on it seemed to grow worse and she feared she must again go for the doctor; but with so little money left, how could she do so? What of the rent and what of the coal? If she had to pay a doctor, they might be without enough money left even to go through another week. What good would it do to cure her child if, immediately it was better, they must both face starvation? So she struggled on and tried to comfort the baby as best she could. THE STORY OF NEDDA 66 But it did not grow better, and finally she decided she must try to find help. She went to the consulate to ask whether there was a hospital where she might take it. The consul was busy and could not see her, but his clerk received her. Inasmuch as she was an alien, he told her that her position with regard to the city charities and the hospitals was more difficult, and that there might be a good deal of red tape and some delay in getting her infant received into a hospital. There was, how- ever, a branch dispensary of one of the hospitals at an address which he gave her, and if she would carry the baby there during visiting hours, he thought they would treat it free of charge, though she would probably be expected to pay something for the medicine. The day was bitterly cold and Nedda hesitated to take her poor little feverish mite out into such weather, but she saw that something must be done and so, wrapping it up as warmly as she could and hugging it tight to her breast, she started on her way. It was a long walk to quite a different quarter of the city, and she had to show the paper on which the address was written many times to different per- sons before she found the dispensary. It was al- most past the hour for consultations when she got there, but they let her in, and after sitting some time in the waiting room for her turn, she was ushered into a small office, where a young doctor took the child from her and examined it. " Your baby is anaemic and under-nourished,*' he said. " Are you nursing it .'' You look underfed yourself and in no condition to nurse a child. If 66 THE STORY OF NEDDA you wish to keep on doing so, you must eat more and get in better shape. The child is much run down and besides has a cold. Take it home and give it this medicine," he continued, handing her a prescription. " Keep it warm and in a sunny room, and above all look after yourself, if you want to nourish the baby properly. Rest as much as you can and eat well every day. Do you mind me? " he concluded sharply, as she remained silent. Yes, she understood; how well she understood. He was asking the impossible, scolding her for what she could not do, could not give. She tried to ex- plain, but with her scanty English the words would not come to her, and as the doctor seemed to con- sider the visit at an end, she turned away with the baby in her arms, his recipe crumpled in her hand, and mad despair aching and tearing at her heart. She went first to the druggist's on her way home and got the prescription filled. He looked at the baby doubtfully, as he handed her the bottle, and said, " Get that child in the house as soon as possible and in a warm place ; it has fever and should never have been taken out such a day as this." Nedda's heart sank within her and she hurried home through the cold twilight as fast as she could. Once in the house she made up a fire and tried to warm and nurse the baby, but it still refused nour- ishment. Then she gave it the medicine as directed, but as the hours wore on its condition grew clearly worse. It was moaning and whimpering and e\'i- dently in pain, and whoever has heard a baby moan will know what that meant to Xedda. She gave the dose again and again, but to no effect. THE STORY OF NEDDA 67 Finally she determined to act for herself. She saw that the child was in much the same state as on the night of its first illness, when the American doctor whom she could no longer afford to employ had cured it. It had the same flushed face and glassy eyes and seemed to breathe in the same queer, thick way. Why not try the remedy the other doctor gave her on the previous occasion? She still had the recipe. She snatched up her shawl and ran out in the winter night to the drug store. In a short time she was back again with the little bottle. She gave a dose to the child and subse- quently other doses, as formerly, every two hours. The effect was not so marked as then, but gradually, as the night wore on, the child seemed better and towards morning the fever dropped. She realized that his condition was far more serious than it had ever been and she decided to continue the medicine through the day, fearing a return of the high fever. Gradually, however, it grew better, and when even- ing brought no appreciably higher temperature, Nedda knew that she had saved her child. It had been a hard struggle. Throughout the preceding night she had not slept or relaxed her vigilance for a moment, ever crooning over the baby, rocking it, soothing it, and always watching it, al- ways on the alert, giving the medicine, keeping the fire up, so that the room might not get colder. Every fibre of her vitality, all her strength which had been so spent, so gone, but a few hours previ- ously, seemed to have come back to her and she was exerting herself as never before in this fight with the grimmest of opponents. 68 THE STORY OF NEDDA Broken in spirit and in body as she was, worn and exhausted and hopeless as she had become, she was now calling up all of her remaining force, physical and spiritual, and using it without reserve for the one great object — to save her child. What would happen later she did not know, she could not think, but save her child she must. In the loiieliness and silence she fought on, dog- gedly, unflinchingly, for the poor, throbbing little mite at her heart, and so great had been her concen- tration in this last desperate encounter with fate that, when the baby was better, she seemed for the time to have forgotten the other issue which con- fronted her. For two days she stayed by the baby, wholly absorbed in its care and in the immeasurable joy of having it safe again. The constant nursing and unremitting attention did much to restore the child, and at last she felt that it was decidedly stronger. XTEDDA was recalled to a sense of her situation by i.^ a knock at the door; it was the collector after the week's rent. She did not have the amount in hand, for in her agitation over the child she had forgotten to go to the bank. The agent looked at her suspiciously, but agreed to call again in an hour, and Nedda hastened away for the money. She drew only enough to cover the rent, light, and hire of furniture for the seven days which had just ended and to pay for coal and a little food the coming week. To her dismay she saw that on the following Saturday there would be barely enough money in the bank to pay the rent, etc., to that date and carry her on through part of the ensuing week. This meant no food or coal after ten days' time and eviction for non-payment of rent in two weeks' time. As soon as she had settled her debts Nedda took out the poor little deposit book and laboriously verified its figures, in the hope that by some mistake in the same more balance might yet remain to her credit. But there was no such error and Nedda saw that she had now but ten days, or at most two weeks of grace, before they would be wholly desti- tute. She would gladly have gone without much, if any, food, but she knew that if she did not eat she could not continue to nourish the child, which was already becoming difficult for her. As for coal. 70 THE STORY OF NEDDA to economize that was equivalent to inviting Death to come for her baby. She made up lier mind that, whatever the effort, she must find work, and she started again in pursuit of the same within an hour. She was unsuccessful and the following day, being Sunday, she had no opportunity to continue the search. On Monday she tried again, going to many shops and even to private houses, asking for employment. But the thin, pretty Italian girl with a shawl over her head, the startled, faun-like eyes, and hesitating, confused speech did not seem to impress those she appealed to as a suitable domestic or saleswoman, and though some persons were more kind than others, ever^Tvhere she met refusal. She returned to her room on Tuesday evening to find her baby again worse, and for all that night and the day following she had a hard struggle to pull it around. By Thursday she was again on the tramp, but her courage was gone, her strength was visibly failing, and people seemed to regard her in- creasing hesitation and nervousness with suspicion. Friday was indeed a black day for Nedda, for there was a blinding snowstorm and it blew a gale, forcing her to remain indoors. Saturday was rent day and she went to the bank and drew her remaining eight dollars. They took her bank book and she understood that her credit was at an end. She paid the week's rent, light, and for the use of the furniture, and with a sort of reck- lessness of despair laid in two dollars' worth of coal and thirty cents' worth of kindling, feeling that she must be sure of heat for the week at anv rate. THE STORY OF NEDDA 71 When these matters were settled there remained just one dollar and sixty cents between Nedda and starvation. She would do her best to make that last as long as possible; but if she starved she, knew but too well that the baby would starve also, while if she tried to feed it on cow's milk that would cost as much as to eat sufficiently herself and nurse it. It was a desperate outlook, but Nedda was so numbed by suspense and suffering that she faced it more calmly than she had ever done before. She still searched for work, but though she tramped the city and presented herself at all kinds of places, no one seemed to want her. Some were very kind. At one house they sent her into the kitchen and offered her food, saying she looked cold and hungry. At another place a woman gave her a pair of boots, hers being almost soleless. In an office building they found her a day's work, helping to clean out a vacant shop, and paid her a dollar for it. But work, permanent work, she could not find, try as she would. By Thursday night her money was exhausted all but ten cents, and she threw herself on her knees in front of the Madonna in a passionate supplication for help. She remained in prayer much of the night, for she could not sleep, and on the following morn- ing she sat nursing her baby, white and dry eyed, with breaking heart, when there came a knock at the door. It was the postman with a registered letter. She signed for the same, but when she found her- self alone, she hesitated for a moment to open it. Her heart seemed to stand still. Was it from 72 THE STORY OF NEDDA Marco? Was it good news or bad news? She did not recognize the handwriting, but then Marco wrote so poorly, someone would be sure to write the address for him. She prayed for a moment with silent intensity that it might not contain bad tidings. Then she found courage to open the envelope. It enclosed a few well-written sheets of paper and a postal order for fifty-three lire. The communication was not from Marco, but from her dear old grandmother, written of course by the priest. It was a sad, rambling account, evi- dently taken down by the priest just as grand- mother had dictated it. They were so sorry to hear she was in such need. They hoped she would soon find work till Marco returned to her. They were very poor themselves. The war had made everything so dear and everyone was finding it very hard. They had no money, but grandmother had sold her old donkey, her sciecco, for fifty lire and the harness for five, and they were sending Nedda fifty-three lire, which was about what remained after paying for the postal money-order and the postage. Grandmother would not miss the donkey much, the missive continued, for there was little work to be done now at this season. So Nedda was cautioned not to worry, and they hoped the money would reach her safely and be of help. They all sent her much love and the priest sent her his blessing. Nedda let fall the first tears over this letter which she had been able to shed for days, and it was a relief to be able to cry again. What it cost her poor old grandmother to part with her sciecco Nedda THE STORY OF NEDDA 73 well knew, for the donkey is the Sicilian peasant's best friend and helper. After she had gone to the post office and collected the seven dollars and forty odd cents due on the postal order at the equivalent value of the American currency, she felt a sense of guilt in having been the cause of such a sacrifice for a return which here, in this expensive land, would assist her so little. A week's expenses at most was all that this poor sum would pay for, and for this her grandmother had parted with her sole aid and standby — her donkey ! With the money in her hands she thanked the Madonna with an overflowing heart, for had not her prayers of the night before been answered? Was not this a chance to keep a roof over their heads for another week, while she could make continued eflforts to find work? XI WHEN Nedda had paid her rent the next day and the other charges and had laid in a supply of coal, there was only a dollar and eighteen cents left for her food and incidentals. She saw that so small a sum would barely last through the week. Fortunately, however, she had thought of another way to get some money. She would pawn most of her things, especially those she did not need at this season. These consisted of two summer dresses, one thick dress, and her linen, together with some suits of Marco's which he had not taken with him, and last of all there were her few little pieces of jewelry and knickknacks. She could redeem them all later, when she had found work or when Marco re- turned, so that she would not lose them. In the vicinity there were several pawnshops, and Nedda knew that they would lend money on almost any object, provided it had value. She set out to do it at once, with all her extra clothes and other things made up securely into a stout bundle. She had no idea which would be the best place to go, so she went to the first one she came to. She hesitated for a moment at the entrance, over which hung three large gilt balls, somewhat shabby and needing regilding. What should she say? Would they accept her things.'' Perhaps they had as many of such as they cared for.'' Second- KTi; Xedda's Quarter THE STORY OF NEDDA 76 hand clothes were hanging on hooks by the door and within there appeared to be a quantity of clothing; indeed all these things seemed much newer and better than what she had brought with her. She looked in the window. There were several pieces of jewelry, some watches, a silver belt buckle, a tray of postage stamps of various countries, and a number of other articles spread out inside the glass in heterogeneous array. She supposed they had each been pledged by someone and, not having been re- deemed, were now offered for sale just as in the shops in Italy, after having been bid in at auction. In one corner of the window was an old violin, very much worn by usage, marked fifteen dollars. She wondered whether that too had been originally left in pawn by some poor musician, and whether he had loved it a great deal and was very unhappy to part with it. She apprehended that many other people were facing the same troubles as she, and the sense of the sorrows of others somehow gave her courage in the thought that she was not alone in her poverty and difficulties. As Nedda entered the shop she recognized the person in charge as a patron of the fruit stall, whom she had often served. This made her hopeful that the woman would be less exacting with her; for like most of the poor, who have usury as their next door neighbor, she had a native dread of those whose business it is to profit from the necessities of distress. If the pawnbroker recalled her, she gave no sign of so doing, but opened the bundle and appraised its contents in a most impassive manner. It took her 76 THE STORY OF NEDDA a little time to go through Nedda's eflFects: three dresses, one of them her best dress of very good cloth, several chemises and other underclothing, two suits of Marco's, his cap, and a few shirts of his, two brooches, a neck chain and a pair of earrings given her by Marco, different ribbons for holiday wear, and a pretty embroidered collar which she wore with her best dress and which was her greatest treasure. There were also a real tortoise-shell comb which Marco had given her, a silver thimble, and a beautiful bright shawl which had been her mother's and which she used only on special occasions. This was her collection, and knowing that all these things must have cost a great deal of money when purchased, perhaps much more than a hundred dol- lars, and that all were serviceable and some as good as new, Nedda hoped for a loan of at least twenty- five dollars on the same. After a searching inspection of everything in the pile the woman said laconically : " Four dollars." Nedda was so surprised that she thought she must have misunderstood. The pawnbroker, seeing Nedda's stupefaction, repeated still more indiffer- ently : " Four dollars is all anyone will give you on this rubbish," and turned away unconcernedly to serve another customer, leaving the garments spread out on the counter. Nedda was so overcome that she could hardly col- lect her ideas. " Four dollars ! " She knew that such an offer for all her possessions was an outrage, worse than a refusal. The gold in the jewelry alone must be worth as much. Yet what was she to do, where was she to go.'' The other pawnshops might THE STORY OF NEDDA 77 give her no more, and indeed her courage was com- mencing to fail. Though the customer had left, the woman paid no attention to Nedda, apparently leaving her to collect her goods and do up her bundle if she were not satisfied. She stood hesitating, trying to gain confidence to ask for better terms. The proprietress, like a spider, kept just out of reach, covertly watch- ing. Finally Nedda ventured to cross the shop to her. " Will you not give me more ? " she found the courage to say in her sweet, hesitating way. " My baby is ill and my husband is at the war," she con- tinued appealingly. " It 's all they 're worth," the woman replied impersonally, but in a little more responsive tone than before, for it was impossible not to be touched by Nedda's appeal. " But they are all good things," Nedda pleaded ; " they cost much money." " The dresses are out of fashion," the woman said, " and the ornaments are only plated stuff." This statement was but partly true and the pawnshop keeper knew it, for only one brooch and the back part of another were plated and the earrings and chain were of gold; but then it was the girl's business to kn<3w the value of her prop- erty, the woman reasoned, and if she did n't so much the worse for her. " Plated ! " Surely Marco would not have given her plated jewelry for her name day thought Nedda. "Plated.'"' Why, he had always told her they were real gold. He must have been cheated, poor Marco. Nedda's eyes filled with tears. The proprietress was observing her narrowly. Nedda's lips were quivering, the tears were begin- 78 THE STORY OF NEDDA ning to trickle down her pale cheeks. " But the other things, all my husband's clothes and my linen?" she queried. "All the rest is of no value to us," her interlocutor replied. " We just allow a little on it to oblige you. The man's suits are a good deal worn and spotted," she continued, taking up a coat and pointing out a spot to Nedda. " It would cost as much to clean them and put them in shape as we could sell them for." " But I mean to redeem them," faltered Nedda. " We have to be prepared for your not redeeming them," the adroit creature answered, with a well-simulated impatience. " And my embroidered collar," Nedda added, " it is all by hand." " Not the fashion," snapped the other, turning her back to Nedda and arranging some clothes. " We could not sell it in a twelve-month," she volunteered over her shoulder. " Will you not give me a little more.'' " supplicated Nedda. " My baby is so ill and I am out of work." The woman went across to the articles and turned them over again indifferently with an annoyed ex- pression, as though she were being importuned be- yond the limit of endurance. " I '11 give you five dollars on them," she saM curtly. " We 're taking a risk, but seeing your baby 's sick, I '11 let you have five on them, though my husband will blame me for it when he comes in." Nedda looked on helplessly, try- ing to come to a decision, but too disappointed to be able to think very clearly. The pawnbroker evidently interpreted Nedda's silence as consent and, gathering the things up hastily, as if her time and patience had been al- ready too long trespassed upon, passed with them THE STORY OF NEDDA 79 into the inner office. In a couple of minutes she re- turned with a printed slip on which a rough inven- tory of the goods was entered in ink and also the amount advanced. She placed the paper ^nd a five- dollar bill in Nedda's hand in a patronizing manner, as though she were doing an act of the most con- siderate philanthropy, saying as she did so, " We usually deduct the first month's interest in advance, but seeing you need the money so, I am giving you the five dollars net." Nedda held the paper and the money in an almost pulseless hand. She tried to say " Thank you," but the words stuck in her throat. The woman turned back to her other duties unconcernedly and Nedda passed silently out of the shop. Defeat stared her in the face more relentlessly than ever. She had stripped her poor little home of practically every- thing she possessed, leaving only the clothes of the baby, the bed linen to cover it, and a change of body linen for herself, and this was the result — five dol- lars, enough to stave off starvation for about a week. In her distress she began to talk aloud to herself in the street. " What shall I do .? I must find work. I must find work." She spoke in Italian, and her foreign tongue and agitated manner caused several people to look at her as they passed, but she was conscious of nothing save her own misery. When she had reached her room she flung herself on the bed beside the baby, with the money and pawn ticket still crushed in her hand, and lay there in despair. The child seemed to her to divine her unhappiness, for it turned its little face towards her and stretched 80 THE STORY OF NEDDA out its tiny hand. The little, appealing movement brought Nedda to herself and she sat up and took her baby in her arms to nurse it. After all she had her darling still, the room was as yet theirs, there was enough money for fuel and food for the week, and by that time she would have work. XII As soon as the child had been nursed and put to sleep and Nedda had regained her composure, she started out to tramp the city once more in search of employment. She tried stores, laundries, private houses, eating rooms, but always without success. Nobody wanted to hire this pale, desperate, foreign- looking girl, hooded in a faded shawl, who hesitated when she approached anyone and hardly made her- self understood. After six days of fruitless endeavor Nedda found herself on the eve of rent day with only sufficient money left to pay the rent and for the hire of the furniture. Of gas she had used none. There was no money remaining for food and she had finished her last shovelful of coal. The fire was burning out and the temperature of the room was falling. In her desperation she decided to pawn her two pretty rings and her wedding ring. They were all she had left of value. One ring Marco had given her after she promised to marry him. It was gold and had a red stone, which must be worth something, she thought. He had tramped all the way from their mountain village down to Palermo to buy it, and she knew he had paid dear for it. The other ring had a blue turquoise set in it. Marco had given this one to her the day after she had confided her great secret to him and made him so happy in the knowledge of 82 THE STORY OF NEDDA his coming fatherhood. Then there was her wedding ring and that was gold, or looked like gold; for since her experience with the pawnshop woman Ncdda was not sure of the quality of anything. She decided to go to a better part of the city, where she had also seen pawnshops and where she hoped they might be more liberal with her. So she walked from the North End down Tremont Street, past Boylston Street, until she came to a street run- ning off Tremont Street in that vicinity. Here she looked for and found a pawnshop which she remem- bered having seen when she was searching for work. She entered with less hesitation than on the previ- ous occasion at the other shop and, slipping her three rings from her fingers, approached the counter. The proprietor behind it was momentarily busy with another customer, and as Nedda waited she looked at the three poor little rings she treasured so dearly, her last precious things to be given up, for she was still girl enough to cling to her trinkets. Then she thought of her position and her baby and handed the rings quickly over the counter to the keen-eyed individual confronting her. "Do you want to pawn them.'' " he asked curtly, squinting at them. She nodded her head affirma- tively. After a couple of minutes' investigation at the back of the shop he returned and handed her a pawn ticket, together with fifty cents. She counted it with care: a quarter, two dimes, and a five-cent piece. The amount seemed so pitifully small in com- parison with her cherished treasures, her all, that after a moment's hesitation she found courage to ask for more. He out her short immediately. " It 's all THE STORY OF NEDDA 83 we can allow. The stones are valueless to us and we give nothing on them. The gold is merely nine carat and on that we allow only by weight. You can have your rings back, if you are n't satisfied, but you won't do better." His manner was so decided that she knew it was hopeless to move him. She felt more as though she were talking to a machine, rather than to a man, as she looked into the expressionless face and listened to the dry voice. Quickly unbuttoning her dress at the throat, she unfastened the thin gold chain with its tiny round medal, bearing a relief of her protecting saint, which she had worn ever since her childhood, and laid it on the counter. He took back the ticket, examined the medal and chain, and after making another entry on the ticket, handed it back to her with an addi- tional thirty cents, saying shortly : " That 's the limit on it." She hesitated for a brief instant ; then she thought again of her baby, lying in the fireless room. This money would at least buy coal enough for a couple of days or so, and she left the shop without more delay. She hastened back across the city to the North End and purchased sixty cents' worth of coal and kindling and ten cents' worth of macaroni for her- self, for she had eaten nothing since the day before. Out of the ten cents which remained she purchased three cents' worth of cheese to season the macaroni and a two-cent box of matches. She hurried on to the room, carrying some of the fuel herself in the skirt of her dress, to save time, and made up the fire, which was quite out. The place was already very cold, but the child 84 THE STORY OF NEDDA seemed sleeping. It was only when she touched it that she was shocked to find how frigid its little face and hands were. She took it up from the bed and did her best to warm it against her body. The fire was an interminable time burning up and the tem- perature of the room rose but slowly. The child appeared chilled through and was strangely quiet. It did not wish anything when she tried to nurse it, and when she finally induced it to take nourishment, she found for the first time since the baby's birth that she had practically none to give it. She re- membered again that she had eaten nothing that day, and tucking the baby up in the bed, she set her- self to prepare and eat the macaroni. By the time she had finished, the room was at last warm and the baby became more active and began to make its wants known. She attempted once more to nurse it, but was still unable to do so. She realized that it would take time to assimilate the food she had eaten, but the baby was hungry and crying. What was she to do.'' She still had five cents left from the eighty cents, and with the nickel in her hand she snatched up an empty jug, hurried to the near-by shop, and purchased a pint of milk. She brought it back and warmed it and was thankful that the baby took it without trouble. It was the first occa- sion that he had seemed to relish cow's milk ; but then she knew that he was very hungr}', for she had not nursed him since noon and it was now eight o'clock at night. After a time the baby fell asleep and Xedda sat by its side, considering what to do. She had just enough money put by in the drawer to pay the rent THE STORY OF NEDDA 86 and the furniture hire the following morning, and she had now bought sufficient coal for two days, that would be until Monday, and there was also some macaroni left for another meal for herself tb-morrow. If she got no work then, she might have to starve over Sunday, but that did not much matter, provided she could only manage to nurse the baby. If not? Nedda shuddered. She comprehended but too well that starvation for herself meant starvation for her child, unless she could manage to get some more cow's milk; but how, with no money.'' She must find employment in the morning; she must, even if only a job for a few hours; and in her ten- sion and anxiety she threw herself once again on her knees beside the bed and poured out pitiful supplica- tions to the Madonna, smiling down on her so ten- derly from the little frame above. It was the one thing of any value she had refused to pawn, her picture of the Madonna with the little Jesus. Even her wedding ring was gone from her, but her Madonna she had saved. Surely her Ma- donna would help her, would not let her baby starve. In the stress of her emotion Nedda talked aloud to the picture, appealed to it, admonished it, explained to it, and as she talked and prayed she seemed gradu- ally to reassure herself. Or was it exhausted nature which came to her rescue.'' For she became quiet and even began to look forward to the morrow with a certain confidence. Surely the Madonna must help her, would help her, had promised to help her, and she would succeed. XIII IN the morning, after a few hours of wearied and perturbed sleep, Nedda found herself again able to nurse her baby. When she had tended to its wants and made up a good fire, she waited for the rent col- lector. He appeared promptly, and having paid him with her remaining money, she put her shawl over her shoulders and set out resolutely on her quest for something to do. It was a cold, dark day in early February and the reaction of mid-winter, after the stir of the holiday season, seemed to have communicated itself to the weather as well. People looked dispirited and were unresponsive. More determined than ever before, Nedda forced her way into shops and offices, pleading for employ- ment with an insistence which would have surprised her, if she had not been so preoccupied with the one idea of getting work at all costs. Everywhere the answer was the same: there was nothing for her to do. In some places people were polite, in others brusque, and in one or two instances she was sum- marily ordered out of shops, even before she had ex- plained herself, with " No beggars are allowed on these premises," or words to that effect.. By three o'clock she concluded that it was hope- less to try to accomplish anything more at present, as her strength was failing. jMoreover, she knew that the baby must be hungry and in need of her. THE STORY OF NEDDA 87 She returned to the room to find the fire burned almost out, but the warmth of the place had not yet lessened very much, owing to the excellent fire she had made before starting. The baby was hungry and, tired as she was, she forced herself to nurse it and succeeded in so doing. Then she put it to sleep and, as darkness was falling, started out anew on her dreary search. Most of the stores were shutting, but there were night restaurants and lunch counters open, and in some of these she hoped to find a job as dish-washer or scrub-woman. Her efforts, however, were fruitless and at ten o'clock at night she staggered back to her room with nothing save starvation to look forward to. Though the child was hungry, she was wholly unable to nurse it. Again the insistent question : What was she to do.'' In her agony of despair and apprehension she walked restlessly around the room, with clenched hands and white, tortured face. The child was crying pitifully for nourishment all the while. Finally it fell asleep, and Nedda lay down beside it and soon passed into the deep sleep of com- plete exhaustion. It was near morning when the child's crying woke her and she sat up in bed, feeling dazed and very weak and faint. But the mother instinct was strong- est in her, so she took the baby and tried to nurse it. She discovered it was still impossible: she had no nourishment to give. After an hour of vainly endeavoring to soothe it she could bear its piteous appeals no longer and made up her mind to go out and beg for a little money in the streets, so that she might buy milk. 88 THE STORY OF NEDDA When she foiiiul licrself on the street, however, it being Sunday morning and the hour early, the side- walks were almost deserted. She stopped one or two people and tried to ask for money, but they either did not understand her or brushed her by indiffer- ently, and she finally sat down without hope on a doorstep. She did not even dare to return to her child, for she could not bring herself to hear it cry- ing for the food which she could not give. As she sat on the step in the cold morning air, huddled up in misery and exhaustion, her glance casually rested on an object at her feet. It was a small bottle of milk ! For a second her heart seemed to stop beating, she could not breathe. She was hardly able to trust her sight and took the bottle in her hand. Yes, it was heavy, full of milk, just left there apparently by the milkman. She put it down again beside the step, but it fascinated her, held her ; she could not take her eyes away from it. Her mind worked feverishly with an alertness in marked con- trast to her torpor of a few minutes before. She saw that she must decide quickly, for at any mo- ment the door might open and the bottle disappear. It was her last chance; she knew it. If she took it she would be a thief; but then her child was starv- ing. She would be a thief and she could no longer look honest people in the face, but her baby would be saved. What mattered it what she became, if she might save her baby.'' She seized the bottle, hid it under her shawl, and hurried away through the silent street, not daring to think what she had done or to look around. When she reached her room she tasted the milk. THE STORY OF NEDDA 89 Yes, it was the morning's milk, fresh and sweet. She warmed it and gave it to the child, who drank it with avidity. A wild, feverish satisfaction filled her. Her little one was saved ! i What of herself.'' She did not care. She knew that she was a thief, that she was no longer fit to look at the Madonna qt to pray to her; but she did not care, she had saved her baby. That thought she gripped tight to her heart, as her darling fell quietly asleep, its hunger satisfied. It was a hard day for Nedda, for she was worn out almost to the state of illness and had had nothing to eat since she finished the macaroni the day before. There was still some of the milk left, but that she must keep for the baby's supper. She was tortured with apprehension and fears for the morrow, for she had lost all confidence in finding work, and by the morning she would be without both fuel and food. She almost wished that she had been caught stealing the milk, for then she would have been arrested and perhaps the police would have listened to her story and taken care of her child, even if she had to go to prison. That thought brought a ray of hope to her. Why not go to the authorities and ask for assistance.'' Surely there must be some help for her in this big rich city — they would not let her starve. Her pride revolted for a moment at the idea of being a public pauper ; but that was no worse than begging in the streets, as she had tried to do that morning. She decided to go at once in the morning for aid, for to-day was Sunday and she knew all agencies were closed. XIV THE morning, which was bitterly cold, found Nedda famished and dizzy from weakness. She made up the fire with the remnants of the coal and started out immediately on her quest for public charity, for she dreaded lest the baby should awake and cry for food which she could not give. She went into the centre of the city, to a busy crossing where she knew she would find a policeman on duty, and going up to him she tried to ask him where she should apply for assistance for her baby and herself. She had thought what to say in ad- vance, but when she began to speak, the English words failed her. The oflBcer, not being able to make out what she was talking about, sought to shake her off, but she stuck to him in desperation and finally conveyed something of her meaning to him. He advised her to go to a certain charitable association and directed her how to get there, but she would not leave him until he had written the address for her on a bit of paper. " As you are a foreigner," he said, " you had better apply there than to the city." She fol- lowed enough of his words to understand that, as had been explained to her at the consulate, being an alien made it harder for her to get help. She made her way to the office of this well-known charity, only to find that it did not open till eight THE STORY OF NEDDA 91 o'clock. When the hour arrived and she made her wants known to the superintendent, she was told that she must apply to the divisional bureau in her own district, the North End. She got him to write out the street and number for her and hastened back to her quarter and to the place. The person in charge was very kind, but very deliberate. She wanted to know all about Nedda. Had she any references.'' Why had not the priest helped her.'' She told Nedda frankly that the or- ganization was using all of its resources to assist those already on its list and that she could not promise anything. The case would be investigated, however, and if an urgent one the society would do its best to aid her. Where did Nedda live.'' The secretary took down the address and agreed to send someone to make inquiries in a day or two. More than that could not be promised, for the charity was very busy. In the meantime Nedda should apply to her priest and also get a reference from him. Nedda, wholly desperate, tried to explain that she could not wait for a day or two, that she must have help at once; but her slight command of English failed her in the intensity of her emotion and the good lady seemed a little shocked by Nedda's im- portunity and excitement. She reiterated that Nedda's case would be looked into just as soon as was possible, and with that she closed the book in which she had the entries, with an air of decision and finality. She was clearly a kind, sweet, earnest woman, who was devoted to her work, but she felt that she had responsibilities which forbade her being stam- 92 THE STORY OF NEDDA peded by this excitable little creature, who appeared to expect immediate succor without any guarantees that it was justified. Moreover, there was the ques- tion to be decided wlicther the society could under- take to give any more relief than it was already dispensing in that section of the city ; for its present obligations this very hard winter were exceptional and all its resources requisitioned. That Ncdda was in such grievous and pressing need the secretary did not at all comprehend. Surely this young person could manage to get along for a day or two until the society could sift the facts, the good woman reasoned. Indeed she did not quite know whether to explain Nedda's excitability and insistence as nerves or temper or both. Nedda realized that it was useless to plead fur- ther, for she saw that she had not made clear her extreme, urgent necessity, so she stumbled out of the place as best she could. What was she to do.'' Ever the insistent question arose: What was she to do.'' The baby must be awake now and crying for food. Where should she go.'' The lady had men- tioned the priest. She had not seen him since her baby was christened, for she had felt that she could not afford to go to church, which meant a donation in the plate, and she feared she must be in bad standing with the father, if he remembered her at all. Nevertheless she directed her steps to the church and rang the bell at the priest's house adjoining. An Italian domestic appeared, who insisted on know- ing her business. Speaking in her native tongue, with the directness of desperation, Nedda explained herself. Her husband was at the war and she and THE STORY OF NEDDA 93 her baby were without money. She needed imme- diate assistance. Only on Wednesdays and Saturdays did the father receive those who wished alms, the womap replied. If she would come then, she could perhaps see him ; but it was uncertain whether he could give her any money, for there were many, a great many such as she who were already being helped by the church and it was very doubtful whether the father could aid any others. Only the most urgent cases, where there were several children or illness, were being attended to. She was young and must find em- ployment. Nedda began to protest, but the servant was evidently accustomed to this. Wednesday was the day for such cases, and if she would return then, probably the father would see her. With that the door was slowly shut in her face. Nedda turned back into the cold street, feeling as though Death were walking beside her. She knew that by now the baby must be crying for food — starving ! Again the terrible question : What should she do? She passed the milk shop and in despair went in and begged them to trust her for some milk for the baby; but the proprietor was out and the girl in charge said that she did not dare to do so on her own responsibility. Nedda stole out again into the freezing air of the street. What could she do? If she but had something left to pawn. As she hastened along in fear and apprehension, her shawl slipped from her head and she raised her hand to readjust it. The touch of her shawl gave her an idea. Her shawl ! 94 THE STORY OF NEDDA Why not pawn that? It was old and much used, but they miglit give her something for it — enough to get a little milk. She hurried to the nearest pawnshop, the one where he had pledged most of her things. She slipped the covering from her head and shoulders and offered it over the counter. The woman was as imperturbable as ever. She took the shawl and examined it ; then handed it back. " Too worn," she said briefly. But Nedda insisted. " Can't you give me something on it.? " she implored. " I must buy milk for my baby." The pawnbroker took the garment in her hand again impassively. " Five cents," she said. " But not as a loan, it 's too much trouble. I '11 buy it for that." Nedda made a motion of assent. She was too spent to speak. The woman handed her the five cents and took the shawl. Nedda went quickly from the place back to the dairy. She placed the five cents on the counter and asked for a pint of milk. " There will be five cents more as deposit on the bottle," she was in- formed. Nedda had wholly forgotten about the bottle. She shuddered. The cold and this final difficulty were too much for her. Leaving the five cents with the girl, she ran shiv- ering through the frosty street to her room for the jug. When she arrived the fire was out and the baby awake and crying pitifully. She dared not take it in her arms for fear she might not have the courage to put it down, and time must not be lost. She seized the vessel and in a few moments reached the shop. The jug filled, she sped again to the room. There was, alas, no fire to warm the milk. She THE STORY OF NEDDA 95 offered it cold to the baby, but he refused it. What should she do? She tried to warm the jug against her naked breast, but both receptacle and contents were stone cold. The child looked ghastly and wailed piteously. What should she do? What could she do? A thought came to her. She took a small quantity of the milk into her mouth at a time and warmed it, then allowed it to run very carefully from her mouth into the spoon, and started to feed it to the baby. It was no longer cold and the child accepted it. By this slow process she fed the poor little thing about fifteen or twenty spoonfuls of the milk, which was all it appeared to be able to take in its weakened condition. Then she put the baby back on the bed and covered it with all the bedclothes to protect it, but the frail wee mite had little heat of its own left in its wasted body and it seemed hopeless to attempt to keep it warm, as the room was growing bitterly cold. Nedda herself was almost at the last extreme of weakness and so chilled through, without her shawl, that she had to walk around the room to prevent herself from shivering. It was now nearly noon on Monday, and as she had not eaten since Saturday, she was literally starving. She thought if she rested on the bed for a moment she would feel less faint and she could get under the coverings, together with the child, from the cold. She did so and shortly lost consciousness. How long she lay there she did not know, but when she came to herself she was stiff in every joint and so weak that she could hardly rise. 96 THE STORY OF NEDDA She got up, and as she did so the neighboring church clock struck four. The baby was appar- ently asleep. She touched its cheek ; it was very cold, even colder than her own hand, she thought, and its lips looked blue. She shivered with appre- hension. Was it dead.'* She touched it again. It moved feebly. No, it was still alive. She warmed some milk in her mouth and tried to feed it, but she could not seem to arouse it from its torpor. She put it down again and covered it with the bedclothes. Again the crucial question : What could she do.? What could she do.'* She would have taken the bed coverings and pawned them, but to do so she would have had to leave the baby uncov- ered, and without something over it the child would surely freeze to death before she could get coal with the proceeds of the pledge and warm the room. She thought of taking some of the chairs, though they were not her property, only rented with the othei furniture, to the pawnshop, but she knew that sht no longer had the strength to carry even a chaii so far. Again the relentless question: What could she do? Could she ask assistance from anyone in the building.'' Useless. It was a tenement house of the poorest order and poverty was all around among her fellow countrywomen, many of them with their bread-winners away at the war. There had been two evictions for non-payment of rent within the last few weeks. XV THERE was nothing to do but to go into the street once more and beg, or steal if she could find anything to take. She turned towards the door, but the room seemed to whirl around and she found that she was too faint to walk. But she must do it, so she drank, very reluctantly, some of the milk, sipping it slowly, for she had reached the stage of starvation when she was no longer hungry. After a few minutes she began to feel a little stronger, and with a last glance at the child, which lay in a sort of torpor under the bedclothes, she started for the street. Without her shawl, which serves the Italian working woman as an habitual covering for both head and shoulders, she had no protection other than her poor dress from the weather, but she was past thinking of herself. It was a fight with Time now for the life of her baby. She considered it useless to try to beg in the North End, among a population mostly poor. With grim determination she sped steadily on to the central part of the city, where there were more well-to-do persons passing. It was nearly six o'clock and many people were hastening along. When she reached Washington Street she appealed to several, but they brushed her aside and hurried on. Others looked suspiciously at her, out in the winter street without hat or coat 98 THE STORY OF NEDDA or other outer clothing, and she began to lose heart. It was now growing late and the crowd was thin- ning. At last she caught sight of a well-dressed elderly gentleman coming along by himself, appar- ently on his way home from his office. She plucked up all her courage and accosted him, holding out her hand in her effort to make herself understood. He hesitated and tried to pass on, but in her frenzied need she caught at his sleeve. He stopped short and fixed her with a glance of mixed annoyance and sever- ity, for he clearly misunderstood the nature of her request. " It is disgraceful," he said in a loud voice, which attracted the attention of several passers-by, " for you to be making advances in this way to men on the public street, and so young a girl too ! If you don't take your hand from my sleeve, I '11 call an officer and have you arrested at once. What is our city government coming to," he continued, evi- dently for the benefit of the bystanders, " that women of this order are allowed to infest the streets in this manner.? " As soon as she comprehended the import of his words Nedda let go her imploring hold on his sleeve and moved quickly away among the crowd. She was completely cowed and unnerved. Taken for an aban- doned woman, threatened with arrest ; she fled along the crowded thoroughfare in the direction of the North End. Hardly knowing what she did, she hastened back to her room, like some hunted animal seeking safety. Though the weather had moderated somewhat, the room was like a vault — colder than outside. THE STORY OF NEDDA 99 she thought. The baby was alive, but torpid. She could not seem to wake it, and when she endeavored to arouse it, it only squirmed in her arms with a querulous, muflfled cry, as though it did not wish to be disturbed. Its little feet were icy cold, and though she tried to warm them by chafing them, she could not succeed. She grew still more desperate, for she realized that the child was slipping from her, and placing it back in the bed under the clothes, she ran blindly down the stairs and out into the street, determined to do something, anything, to save her child. As she turned a corner into a near-by side street she came upon a well-dressed man and woman who, standing by the door of a house and in the light of the street lamp, were engaged in conversation. She went up to them, without giving herself time to think, and asked for alms. They ignored her appeal. She felt that she must make them listen to her and poured out her words anyhow in her scanty English. Her child was ill, perhaps dying from cold and hunger; she was without money or food or fuel. She saw that they understood her. The woman was the first to speak. Why did she not find work? Nedda broke forth in a passionate recital of her fruitless efforts to do so. Then the man, who had begun to look at her, spoke, and the minute she heard his voice she recog- nized him. He was the dreaded customer who had so often persecuted her at the fruit stall. Even in her misery and recklessness a qualm of fear passed through her, and she was tempted to run away, but she put it aside in the thought of her baby and faced hijn. 100 THE STORY 01' MO 1)1) A " A nice little girl like you ought not to be in such a fix," he said. " We ain't got no money to give you, but I '11 put you on easy street if you ain't too particular." He looked at her with cold, calcu- lating eyes. Nedda understood. " This house here belongs to me, and Vera here runs it," he continued, indicating the woman. *' We 've got some nice girls inside and a nice class of trade. There 's good ready money for you with us. Just be a little affectionate to some of my friends and you '11 be able to live and take care of your kid without any more worry, my girl," he added in a coaxing tone. Nedda made no reply; she stood silent, unrespon- sive before them. She remembered now the house before which they were. Once in summer she had taken a short cut through that street, and in passing hastily she had heard ribald laughter from behind the closed shutters ; laughter without any mirth in it; noisy, strident laughter that seemed to her im- agination like sounds from another world, a horrible world, where there was no truth or gentleness or purity or trust in the Madonna. " You '11 be a foolish girl to let a good chance like this go," put in the woman in a hoarse, loose voice. " There 's company in the house at this minute and money being spent, and there '11 sure be more later in the evening, for the motor shew 's brought lots of travelling men and business people to town this week." " In three hours you '11 make five dollars sure," added the man, " and that 's more than you 'd earn in a week, if you had a job," he said patronizingly. Nedda still remained silent. They evidently THE STORY OF NEDDA 101 thought it wisest to give her time to consider, for it was easy to see that under her apparent detach- ment she was trying to think. Then she spoke, in a queer, hollow, little voice, which she was not sure was her own. " And can I go back to my baby after three hours, with — with the money.'' " " Sure you can go back to see your kid every day, and you '11 be able to pay somebody to mind it for you, when you 're away," the man replied in a wheedling tone. Nedda did not answer; she stood looking straight in front of her. She appeared to be listening to some- thing unheard by the others, so intent was she. The woman looked behind Nedda at her com- panion, with a sly, questioning glance. Was it safe to let the girl go home, once they had her.'' The man answered that look with a confident, satanic wink, which said only too plainly : " No danger. After the first step she 's ours." Nedda was almost unconscious of their presence. Something seemed gripping her by the throat and slowly dioking her. She thought of Marco, far away in the trenches, fighting for Italy and for her, trusting her, loving her. She felt that she was say- ing " Good-bye " to him forever. She prayed that he might be killed, that he might never live to learn what she had come to ; he would then be safe with the good angels in Paradise and would never know the truth. The woman made a movement of impatience, but her companion restrained her with a glance. He read the situation with sure intuition and was con- tent to wait. 102 THE STORY OF NEDDA Suddenly the cry of an infant in some near-by tenement broke the stillness. Nedda started and trembled. It seemed to her for an instant as though her own little one were crying out to her. She thought of it all alone in that icy room. She re- membered how cold its tiny feet were when she had tried to warm them, before she ran out into the street in desperation. Something seemed to grip her by the throat again ; she struggled to breathe, and then, by using all her will, she found the power to speak. Her voice sounded still more hollow and distant; she was not sure that she was speaking, that her words were really audible, as she said : " I '11 go." They passed through that dark doorway, too narrow for more than one at a time. The woman went first, Nedda next, and the man followed as a rear-guard. The door closed on them, and there was silence in the deserted street. Only the creak- ing of a dilapidated sign broke the sinister stillness and desolation. A taxi-auto turned the corner and stopped before the door. Two men got out, rather ordinary men of the type of commercial travellers. One was some- what drunk. " Is this the place.'' " he asked in a thick voice. " Yes, this is the house I told you of," the chauffeur replied. "It's a Dago joint — nice little girls, warm babies. They '11 treat you well." One of the men paid him, while the other rang the bell. The door opened and the two men disappeared within. It closed as the auto glided away. The street was silent again. AFTERWORD THIS is the story of Nedda, and whatever its demerits it has one merit — truth. All the destitute of the war are not in Europe ; some of them are here in Boston, right at our doors. If the New England Italian War Relief Fund collapses, as it inevitably will collapse within a short time unless immediate and substantial help is now forth- coming,^ the forty-six women with fifty-three chil- dren whom it is now employing here in Boston to make things which are sent to the hospitals for the Italian wounded, and whom it is thus providing with the bare necessaries of life, will, many of these women and little children, be faced by just such destitution as destroyed Nedda. The other charitable organiza- tions in the North End are financially unable to take these poor people over — they have said so — and as aliens these Italians have no recognized claim on the municipal charities. Less than one-third of those on the War Relief's books " are entitled to and re- * It costs the fund at present approximately $1500 a month for its incidental expenses, materials used, wages paid the destitute women, and allowances to feed their children, and more families are constantly applying for assistance. At the time of writing this there is not enough money remaining to cover two months' expenditures, and winter is with us. ^ Only the families of those soldiers now at the front who have done military service previous to this war are entitled to relief from the Italian government; wives receive fourteen cents a day and children seven cents each a day. Of the names of reservists* wives 104 THE STORY OF NEDDA ceive assistance from the Italian government, and that relief, when given, is wholly inadequate to keep them alive and under shelter at the existing cost of living. What are you going to do about it, American readers? Here are a large number of defenceless women and children left derelict on our shores by the great undertow of war, which has torn their natural protectors from them. Will you see them starve.'' Will you " sit tight " and see the sufferings of poor little Nedda and her baby become an actual- ity in our midst again and again.'' I appeal to you in the name of our common humanity, as men and women, as husbands and wives, as fathers and mothers, to come to the rescue of these unfortunate families before it is too late. The necessary detachable subscription forms, which it is particularly requested will be filled in and forwarded uith remittances, are affixed at the front of this book. recorded on the books of the New England Italian War Relief Fund only sixteen have received or are receiving such governmental aid and thirty -nine are without and not entitled to it by the regulations. DATE DUE 1 J)V> . ! 1 !• ' \i ^ HIGHSMITH 45-102 PRIN TED IN U.S. A. Do38 13R6 Roberts, Lewis Niles. 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