She was wicked teh deh heart an' we never knowed it." Jimmie nodded, admitting the fact.
"We lived in deh same house wid her an' I brought her up an' we never knowed how bad she was." Jimmie nodded again.
"Wid a home like dis an' a mudder like me, she went teh deh bad," cried the mother, raising her eyes.
One day, Jimmie came home, sat down in a chair and began to wriggle about with a new and strange nervousness.

At last he spoke shamefacedly.
"Well, look-a-here, dis t'ing queers us! See?
We're queered! An' maybe it 'ud be better if I--well, I t'ink I kin look 'er up an'-- maybe it 'ud be better if I fetched her home an'-- " The mother started from her chair and broke forth into a storm of passionate anger.
"What! Let 'er come an' sleep under deh same roof wid her mudder agin! Oh, yes, I will, won't I?
Sure?
Shame on yehs, Jimmie Johnson, for sayin' such a t'ing teh yer own mudder--teh yer own mudder! Little did I t'ink when yehs was a babby playin' about me feet dat ye'd grow up teh say sech a t'ing teh yer mudder--yer own mudder.

I never taut--" Sobs choked her and interrupted her reproaches.
"Dere ain't nottin' teh raise sech hell about," said Jimmie.

"I on'y says it 'ud be better if we keep dis t'ing dark, see?
It queers us! See ?" His mother laughed a laugh that seemed to ring through the city and be echoed and re-echoed by countless other laughs.

"Oh, yes, I will, won't I! Sure!" "Well, yeh must take me fer a damn fool," said Jimmie, indignant at his mother for mocking him.