CHAPTER I
THE BACK PORCH
TO Mrs. Flanagan, who lived in the rear house and had her memories, the Hartwells' back porch looked like a booth at an Irish fair. It was curtained by the vines which grew in boxes upon the railings; they clambered up the posts to the Schneiders' back porch on the second story, and trailed down to the hard soil of the back yard. On either edge of the short flight of steps which led down to the yard were potted geraniums all in red bloom.
It made quite a bit of scenery for the Flanagans. Indeed, they had the best of it, for anyone on the back porch itself had to look at the Flanagans' house, which was small and dingy and adorned by nondescript garments of faded calico and flannel, flapping on a ramshackle railing.
Michael Flanagan was on the police force and could have afforded a better place had he had a small family; but there were ten for him to support, and Mrs. Flanagan's doctor bills to pay. One hope only gleamed through the murky present: that he might be promoted. Then they would move into a house that fronted on the street and had more than four rooms, and some chance for air on a hot August day, such as was now drawing toward dusk.
Maggie Flanagan came out to gather up some of the airing garments of her seven brothers and sisters. She
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