Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

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16 somr- tlay. "Hu:"' fluicklod llic Jew. "Now 1 know wliat tliat means—llial. two lioad.s is Ixttei- than one. T'anks ! Ajid don't foi-iict to let mo know how your old mothor comes out of it." "Thanks," said the thief. "I won't foigct." 1 IIo made for the door" again, and this |tiriio he went btraight out into the wot Shiglit. Kaplan stowed the spurious fivc- Prcnit piece in his pocket, and retired to IJhe shop parlour. this been con- The Foundling] PATRICK O'GRADV. during little business interlude, had 1 puffing at his pipe, seated |tentedly in a chair, for, according to a giandfuthcr cloc;k near the window, it U\as a full five minutes to ten. But his (pipe wont out, and lie consulted his 'watch, and discovered that by the right time it was reallv only a few seconds to ten. Ho rose indignantly, opened the clock-case, and moved the minute hand forward. The clock bc,ij;an to chime the liour just as Kaplan reappeared. lO'Urady picked up hi.'- mackintosh and 'iiight-stick (or truncheon), and perched !his official cap upon his head. " V'hore are you goin', O'Grady?" demanded Kaplan. "You're not on Idutv till two in the mornin'!" "I've got to get some sleep," said the Irishman. " Vot's all you do! The trouble vit' you cops is you ain't got no ambition. Ilf I vas on the police f^orce as long as jyou, I bet you by now I'd be at least jcommissioner." I "Ah!" scoffed O'Grady. "So-long!" Now Kaplan's pawnbroking ostablish- Iment was on a street corner, and a 'second door in the shop parlour opened on to a little lobby which led to the side-street. O'Grady turned towards this second door, but among numerous other articles which had overflowed from the shop into the parlour wis a plaster statuette of some Greek goddess which stood on an ebony pedestal. "Vail a minute, now—vait a minute !" cried Kaplan. " Don't go out like that. Button up your mac! I don't want you to catch sneumonia." "All right," said O'Grady, and raised ,liis arm to obey his friend's instructions, jbut cannoned against the pedestal and sent the statuette flying. Somehow he managed, in tlie very nick of time, to swing round and grasp the plaster goddess by tlie waist, saving her from destiMiction. "Say, what are you tryin' to do?" howled the pawnbroker, his hands out- stretched. "I'll sue you! I'll call a lawyer ! Oh, it's .saved ! A hundred times I've told you that you should look out for this thing!" " I'heugh !" gasped O'Grady, restoring the figure to its resting-place. "Good- night:" And he tugged open the door. "Good-night!" boomed Kaplan. And then, with a cra.sh, the statuette fell to the floor and was shattered to fragments. He himself had knocked against the pedestal ! O'Cirady looked back from the lobb\. to see his friend ruefully surveying the damage. "Broken at last!" oxclainied fvaplan. "For fifteen years 1 was afraid some- body would knock that thing over, but now I ain't afraid any more." He began to laugh, "Ha, ha!" he cried. ("I'm a new man !" O'Grady, with a chuckle, opened the street door, but stepped back aghast. "Well, look what's here!" he cried. Kaplan i-an to him and peered over his extended arm at a wicker-basket on Iho floor of (he porch. There was a ■ ■ Scptc,iiit)er Cth, 1930. • BOY'S CINEMA blanket oyer oik- end of (he basket, and inside, with its head on a pillow, was a brown-eyed baby of about eleven months, crying lustily. "It—it's a baby!" exclaimed O'Grady. "Don't stand in the way like a dumb ox!" snorted Kaplan. "Didn't you over seea baby before? Get out of the way —I'll take iiim in." The scige;!nt removed his obstructing arm, and tlie pawnbroker lifted up the basket and staggered with it into the shop parlour, where he placed it on the table. "Hurry up, hurry up!" he shouted, lifting the howling mite in his arms. "Get some bottles and milk, and go in the shop and get some toys. Go on !" But O'Grady was inspecting the child, which was quite warmly, though poorly, clad—a round-faced, chubby-cheeked little girl. "Ah," he cried, "'tis a wee broth of a boy ye aie!" "He's a girl, you fool!" corrected Kaplan. "All my life nothing but junk has been comin' into this place, and look what I've got now. She—she's all wet. She's l.'eeii out in the rain." He locked the baby in his arms, making little crooning noises till O'Grady indignantly took her from him and nursed her on his knee and sang to stop her tears. Kaplan, with his Angers in his ears, declared that O'Grady's voice was infinitely worse than the infant's noise. Between them, with the utmost clumsiness, they removed the wet frock and the damp underclothes, and Kaplan produced some tiny garments he had taken in pawn. These were substituted, and the baby left oflf crying, and crowed at them, and seemed to be fascinated by O'Grady's truncheon, with which he performed tricks known to New York policemen. After a while, however, O'Grady's sense of duty as a policeman began to disturb him. "Look here. Kaplan," he said very ffhcially, "this baby is a foundling, and we'll have to put it through the proper channels." "Oi, oi, oi!" snorted the pawnbroker, clapping hi? hands for the infant's benefit. "This baby don't go through no channels. It was left on my door- step, and it's mine. Here am I, a lonely widower, and here is the loveliest thing in the vorld. It's mine, O'Grady." "is it, be jabbers? Well, we both found it. so it's no more yours than mine —and I'm a lonely widower, too." 'You're a nice fellow, O'Grady, but this baby belongs to me." "Say, li.sten," exploded the Irishman. "I've got just as much right to this baby as you have—in fact. I need a baby just as badly as you do." The baby began to howl again, frightened by their vehemence, and for some little while both were busy trying to pacify it. "1 want to be fair," announced Kap- lan quietly, after considerable thought. "I admit you've got a claim, so I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll throw up a nickel—(hat's fair enough, ain't it?" He Iiad rcmombered the (wo-headed coin; and, having obtained his friend's grudging consent, he flitipe<l the coin into the air and caught it, crying. " Heads!" He opened his hand, exhibiting an imdeniable head. "I win!" he cried triumphantly, "rongratulate nie, O'Gradv. I've got a baby! Ha, ha, ha. ha! OfTicer O'Grady, I want you to meet my daughter, Rosic Kaplan !" O'Grady made a wry face. Ho also made protests. "If you're goin' to care for the baby," Every Tuesday he objected, " the least you can d-i i( to let me name it." . "I'll listen. What's the proposition?" "Bridget O'Orad.y—there's a name for you!" "Bridget O'Grady?" cried Kaplan scathingly. "Nothing of the kind Rosie Kaplan—that's more like it." "Over my dead body!" "Well, I'll tell you vat I'll do I'll meet you ha|f-way. Bridget Kaplan." "Never! I'll split the difference with you—Rosie O'Grady." "Rosie O'Grady? Rosie Why, that's a .song, ain't it?" "Well, take a look at her," uiged O'Grady. "Ain't she a song?" " You're right, Pat," decided Kaplan. "So we'll christen her Rosie O'Grady." "Christen nothin'!" retorted Kaplan. "We'll name her O'Grady." Eighteen Years After. ON a bright spring morning, eighteen years later. Sergeant O'Grady stepped off his l)eat into Benjamin Kaplan's pawnbroking establishment and passed behind the counter into the shop parlour. The table was laid for breakfast, and Kaplan was frying bacon at the gas cooker, his waistcoat unfastened, his tia awry. He was just as bulky as on the night the basket with its live content.'! had been found on his doorstep, but hi.'j hair had turned white and become very thill on top. O'Grady, on the other hand, removed his cap from a head that was as flaming red as ever. He sniffed at the pleasant odour as he greeted his old friend. "Top o' the mornin'!" he said cheer fully. "It's a nice day." "To me," said Kaplan, "it looks like rain." "Sure ye never could agree with me." chuckled O'Grady. "Where's Rosie?" "She's coming right down." Light footsteps sounded on the stairs beyond an open door, and into the room there stepped a beautiful, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl, slender of build, dressed in a blou.se and skirt. "Good-morning, daddy," she said to each of them .solemnly in turn. "Hallo, darling!" responded Kaplan. "Look what I've brought you, Rosie," .said O'Grady, and produced from behind his back a bunch of spring flowers. "Look what 1 got for you, darling," said Kaplan, holding the frying-pan beneath her little tip-tilted nose. "Look, look! Smell this!" " How many times have I told you not to bother about my breakfast ?" slie reproved him. "I'm the cook around here." "I like to do it, darling," protested the pawnbroker. "It gives me lots of pleasure." He put the bacon on three plates, and Rosie prepared the coffee and cut bread, and they all sat down to eat and diink. "\''ou know, Rosie." said O'Grady fondly, "vou're looking lovelier every day."' "Daddy." said Rosie archly, "you're getting younger every day." "Younger?" snorted the pawnbroker. "Bah, you can't fool me—you're on youi hisl legs. Did you take out insurance, Pat?" "No. I did not." "Well. I took out insurance last week. For Rosie." O'Grady expro.s.sed (he view (hat it was a veiy good idea- 'Why don't you take out insurance?" iiisislcd Kai.Jan. "I'll send Moe Levine around to see you." "Moe Levine?" echoed O'Crady, wining his mouth with the back of his