Then suddenly there flashed into his mind the words he had heard the
bishop speak to a man who came to him one day in great sorrow.
"My life is spoiled," the man had said. "All my hopes and plans are
destroyed. What shall I do?"
And the bishop had answered, "My son, you must forget yourself, and
your broken hopes and plans, and think of others. Do something for
somebody else--and keep on doing."
"That's what he would say to me, I s'pose," thought the boy. "I wonder
what I can do. There's Tommy O'Brien, I 'spect he'd be glad 'nough to
see most anybody."
He turned and went slowly and reluctantly back up the stairs. He
didn't want to see Tommy O'Brien. He didn't want to see anybody just
then, but still he went on to Tommy's door. As he approached it, he
heard loud, angry voices mingled with the crying of a baby. He
knocked, but the noise within continued, and after a moment's pause he
pushed open the door and went in.
The three women who lived in the room were all standing with red,
angry faces, each trying to outscold the others. Three or four little
children, with frightened eyes, were huddled together in one corner,
while a baby cried unheeded on the floor, its mother being too much
occupied with the quarrel to pay any attention to her child. The
women glanced indifferently at Theodore as he entered, and kept on
with their loud talk.
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