Between Rounds

The May moon shone bright upon the private boarding-house of Mrs. Murphy. By reference to the almanac a large amount of territory will be discovered upon which its rays also fell. Spring was in its heydey, with hay fever soon to follow. The parks were green with new leaves and buyers for the Western and Southern trade. Flowers and summer-resort agents were blowing; the air and answers to Lawson were growing milder; hand-organs, fountains and pinochle were playing everywhere.

Bulan Mei bersinar terang di atas rumah kos pribadi milik Nyonya Murphy. Dengan melihat almanak akan ditemukan wilayah yang luas tempat sinarnya juga jatuh. Musim semi sedang dalam puncaknya, dengan alergi serbuk bunga yang akan segera menyusul. Taman-taman hijau dengan daun-daun baru dan para pembeli untuk perdagangan Barat dan Selatan. Bunga-bunga dan agen-agen resor musim panas sedang bermekaran; udara semakin lembut; organ tangan, air mancur, dan permainan kartu terdengar dimainkan di mana-mana.

The windows of Mrs. Murphy’s boarding-house were open. A group of boarders were seated on the high stoop upon round, flat mats like German pancakes.

Jendela-jendela rumah kos Nyonya Murphy terbuka. Sekelompok penghuni kos duduk di teras tinggi di atas tikar bundar dan pipih seperti panekuk Jerman.

In one of the second-floor front windows Mrs. McCaskey awaited her husband. Supper was cooling on the table. Its heat went into Mrs. McCaskey.

Di salah satu jendela depan lantai dua, Nyonya McCaskey menunggu suaminya. Makan malam sedang mendingin di meja. Panasnya justru berpindah ke dalam diri Nyonya McCaskey.

At nine Mr. McCaskey came. He carried his coat on his arm and his pipe in his teeth; and he apologised for disturbing the boarders on the steps as he selected spots of stone between them on which to set his size 9, width Ds.

Pukul sembilan Tuan McCaskey pun datang. Ia membawa jasnya di lengannya dan pipanya di giginya; dan ia meminta maaf karena mengganggu para penghuni kos di tangga saat ia memilih-milih tempat berpijak di antara mereka untuk menaruh sepatunya yang berukuran besar.

As he opened the door of his room he received a surprise. Instead of the usual stove-lid or potato-masher for him to dodge, came only words.

Ketika ia membuka pintu kamarnya, ia mendapat kejutan. Alih-alih tutup kompor atau penghancur kentang seperti biasa yang harus ia hindari, yang datang hanyalah kata-kata.

Mr. McCaskey reckoned that the benign May moon had softened the breast of his spouse.

Tuan McCaskey mengira bulan Mei yang lembut itu telah melunakkan hati istrinya.

“I heard ye,” came the oral substitutes for kitchenware. “Ye can apollygise to riff-raff of the streets for settin’ yer unhandy feet on the tails of their frocks, but ye’d walk on the neck of yer wife the length of a clothes-line without so much as a ‘Kiss me fut,’ and I’m sure it’s that long from rubberin’ out the windy for ye and the victuals cold such as there’s money to buy after drinkin’ up yer wages at Gallegher’s every Saturday evenin’, and the gas man here twice to-day for his.”

"Aku dengar kau," terdengar kata-kata pengganti peralatan dapur itu. "Kau bisa minta maaf pada orang-orang jalanan karena menginjak ujung gaun mereka dengan kaki cerobohmu, tapi kau akan menginjak leher istrimu sepanjang tali jemuran tanpa sepatah kata pun 'maaf', dan aku yakin sudah selama itu aku memelototi jendela menunggumu dan makanan yang dingin sejauh masih ada uang untuk membelinya setelah kau habiskan gajimu untuk minum-minum di kedai Gallegher setiap Sabtu malam, dan tukang gas ke sini dua kali hari ini untuk menagih tagihannya."

“Woman!” said Mr. McCaskey, dashing his coat and hat upon a chair, “the noise of ye is an insult to me appetite. When ye run down politeness ye take the mortar from between the bricks of the foundations of society. ’Tis no more than exercisin’ the acrimony of a gentleman when ye ask the dissent of ladies blockin’ the way for steppin’ between them. Will ye bring the pig’s face of ye out of the windy and see to the food?”

"Perempuan!" kata Tuan McCaskey, melemparkan jas dan topinya ke sebuah kursi, "keributanmu itu penghinaan bagi seleraku. Kalau kau meremehkan kesopanan, kau mencabut mortar dari antara bata-bata fondasi masyarakat. Tak lebih dari sekadar menjalankan sopan santun seorang pria terhormat ketika kau meminta persetujuan para nona yang menghalangi jalan agar bisa lewat di antara mereka. Maukah kau mengeluarkan wajah babimu itu dari jendela dan mengurus makanannya?"

Mrs. McCaskey arose heavily and went to the stove. There was something in her manner that warned Mr. McCaskey. When the corners of her mouth went down suddenly like a barometer it usually foretold a fall of crockery and tinware.

Nyonya McCaskey bangkit dengan berat dan pergi ke kompor. Ada sesuatu dalam sikapnya yang memperingatkan Tuan McCaskey. Ketika ujung mulutnya turun tiba-tiba seperti barometer, itu biasanya pertanda akan jatuhnya pecah belah dan peralatan seng.

“Pig’s face, is it?” said Mrs. McCaskey, and hurled a stewpan full of bacon and turnips at her lord.

"Wajah babi, katamu?" kata Nyonya McCaskey, dan melemparkan sepanci penuh daging asap dan lobak ke arah suaminya.

Mr. McCaskey was no novice at repartee. He knew what should follow the entrée. On the table was a roast sirloin of pork, garnished with shamrocks. He retorted with this, and drew the appropriate return of a bread pudding in an earthen dish. A hunk of Swiss cheese accurately thrown by her husband struck Mrs. McCaskey below one eye. When she replied with a well-aimed coffee-pot full of a hot, black, semi-fragrant liquid the battle, according to courses, should have ended.

Tuan McCaskey bukanlah pemula dalam adu balas. Ia tahu apa yang harus menyusul hidangan pembuka itu. Di atas meja ada daging babi panggang bagian has, dihiasi semanggi. Ia membalas dengan itu, dan mendapat balasan yang setimpal berupa puding roti dalam piring tanah liat. Sepotong keju Swiss yang dilempar dengan tepat oleh suaminya mengenai Nyonya McCaskey di bawah salah satu matanya. Ketika ia membalas dengan sebuah teko kopi yang dibidik dengan baik penuh cairan panas, hitam, agak beraroma, pertempuran itu, menurut urutan hidangannya, seharusnya sudah berakhir.

But Mr. McCaskey was no 50-cent table d’hôter. Let cheap Bohemians consider coffee the end, if they would. Let them make that faux pas. He was foxier still. Finger-bowls were not beyond the compass of his experience. They were not to be had in the Pension Murphy; but their equivalent was at hand. Triumphantly he sent the granite-ware wash basin at the head of his matrimonial adversary. Mrs. McCaskey dodged in time. She reached for a flatiron, with which, as a sort of cordial, she hoped to bring the gastronomical duel to a close. But a loud, wailing scream downstairs caused both her and Mr. McCaskey to pause in a sort of involuntary armistice.

Namun Tuan McCaskey bukanlah tamu makan set seharga lima puluh sen. Biarlah orang-orang bohemian murahan menganggap kopi sebagai akhir, kalau mereka mau. Biarlah mereka membuat kesalahan itu. Ia lebih licik daripada itu. Mangkuk cuci jari bukanlah sesuatu di luar pengalamannya. Barang itu tidak ada di Pensiun Murphy; tetapi penggantinya ada di dekat sana. Dengan penuh kemenangan ia melemparkan baskom cuci berbahan enamel ke kepala lawan pernikahannya. Nyonya McCaskey berhasil mengelak tepat waktu. Ia meraih setrika besi, yang dengannya, sebagai semacam penutup manis, ia berharap bisa mengakhiri duel gastronomi ini. Namun sebuah jeritan keras dan memilukan dari bawah membuat ia dan Tuan McCaskey berhenti dalam semacam gencatan senjata yang tak disengaja.

On the sidewalk at the corner of the house Policeman Cleary was standing with one ear upturned, listening to the crash of household utensils.

Di trotoar di sudut rumah itu Polisi Cleary sedang berdiri dengan satu telinga menengadah, mendengarkan bunyi gemerincing peralatan rumah tangga.

“’Tis Jawn McCaskey and his missis at it again,” meditated the policeman. “I wonder shall I go up and stop the row. I will not. Married folks they are; and few pleasures they have. ’Twill not last long. Sure, they’ll have to borrow more dishes to keep it up with.”

"Itu Jawn McCaskey dan istrinya berkelahi lagi," pikir sang polisi. "Aku bertanya-tanya apakah aku harus naik dan menghentikan keributan itu. Tidak akan kulakukan. Mereka pasangan suami istri; dan sedikit sekali kesenangan yang mereka miliki. Tak akan lama. Tentunya, mereka harus meminjam lebih banyak piring untuk terus melanjutkannya."

And just then came the loud scream below-stairs, betokening fear or dire extremity. “’Tis probably the cat,” said Policeman Cleary, and walked hastily in the other direction.

Dan tepat saat itu terdengar jeritan keras dari bawah lagi, yang menandakan ketakutan atau keadaan darurat yang mengerikan. "Itu mungkin kucing," kata Polisi Cleary, dan berjalan cepat ke arah lain.

The boarders on the steps were fluttered. Mr. Toomey, an insurance solicitor by birth and an investigator by profession, went inside to analyse the scream. He returned with the news that Mrs. Murphy’s little boy, Mike, was lost. Following the messenger, out bounced Mrs. Murphy—two hundred pounds in tears and hysterics, clutching the air and howling to the sky for the loss of thirty pounds of freckles and mischief. Bathos, truly; but Mr. Toomey sat down at the side of Miss Purdy, millinery, and their hands came together in sympathy. The two old maids, Misses Walsh, who complained every day about the noise in the halls, inquired immediately if anybody had looked behind the clock.

Para penghuni kos di tangga menjadi gempar. Tuan Toomey, seorang agen asuransi karena bakat dan seorang penyelidik karena profesinya, masuk ke dalam untuk menyelidiki jeritan itu. Ia kembali dengan kabar bahwa anak kecil Nyonya Murphy, Mike, hilang. Mengikuti si pembawa pesan, Nyonya Murphy pun melompat keluar—dua ratus pon berat badan diliputi air mata dan histeria, menggapai-gapai udara dan merintih ke langit atas hilangnya tiga puluh pon bintik-bintik dan kenakalan. Berlebihan, memang; tetapi Tuan Toomey duduk di samping Nona Purdy, penjual topi, dan tangan mereka pun bertaut dalam simpati. Kedua perawan tua, Nona-nona Walsh, yang setiap hari mengeluh tentang keributan di lorong, langsung bertanya apakah ada yang sudah melihat di belakang jam dinding.

Major Grigg, who sat by his fat wife on the top step, arose and buttoned his coat. “The little one lost?” he exclaimed. “I will scour the city.” His wife never allowed him out after dark. But now she said: “Go, Ludovic!” in a baritone voice. “Whoever can look upon that mother’s grief without springing to her relief has a heart of stone.” “Give me some thirty or—sixty cents, my love,” said the Major. “Lost children sometimes stray far. I may need carfares.”

Mayor Grigg, yang duduk di samping istrinya yang gemuk di anak tangga teratas, bangkit dan mengancingkan jasnya. "Anak kecil itu hilang?" serunya. "Aku akan menyisir seluruh kota." Istrinya tak pernah mengizinkannya keluar setelah gelap. Namun kali ini ia berkata: "Pergilah, Ludovic!" dengan suara berat. "Siapa pun yang bisa memandang kesedihan seorang ibu itu tanpa segera membantunya pastilah berhati batu." "Berikan aku sekitar tiga puluh atau—enam puluh sen, sayangku," kata sang Mayor. "Anak hilang kadang tersesat jauh. Aku mungkin butuh ongkos angkutan."

Old man Denny, hall room, fourth floor back, who sat on the lowest step, trying to read a paper by the street lamp, turned over a page to follow up the article about the carpenters’ strike. Mrs. Murphy shrieked to the moon: “Oh, ar-r-Mike, f’r Gawd’s sake, where is me little bit av a boy?”

Orang tua Denny, yang tinggal di kamar lorong lantai empat bagian belakang, yang duduk di anak tangga terbawah, mencoba membaca koran di bawah lampu jalan, membalik halaman untuk melanjutkan membaca artikel tentang mogok kerja para tukang kayu. Nyonya Murphy menjerit ke arah bulan: "Oh, ar-r-Mike, demi Tuhan, di mana anak lelaki kecilku!"

“When’d ye see him last?” asked old man Denny, with one eye on the report of the Building Trades League.

"Kapan terakhir kau melihatnya?" tanya orang tua Denny, dengan satu mata masih tertuju pada laporan Liga Perdagangan Bangunan.

“Oh,” wailed Mrs. Murphy, “’twas yisterday, or maybe four hours ago! I dunno. But it’s lost he is, me little boy Mike. He was playin’ on the sidewalk only this mornin’—or was it Wednesday? I’m that busy with work, ’tis hard to keep up with dates. But I’ve looked the house over from top to cellar, and it’s gone he is. Oh, for the love av Hiven—”

"Oh," rintih Nyonya Murphy, "kemarin, atau mungkin empat jam yang lalu! Aku tidak tahu. Tapi dia hilang, anak lelaki kecilku Mike. Dia sedang bermain di trotoar tadi pagi—atau apakah itu hari Rabu? Aku begitu sibuk dengan pekerjaan, sulit sekali mengikuti tanggal. Tapi aku sudah memeriksa seluruh rumah dari atas sampai ke ruang bawah tanah, dan dia sudah hilang. Oh, demi kasih Tuhan—"

Silent, grim, colossal, the big city has ever stood against its revilers. They call it hard as iron; they say that no pulse of pity beats in its bosom; they compare its streets with lonely forests and deserts of lava. But beneath the hard crust of the lobster is found a delectable and luscious food. Perhaps a different simile would have been wiser. Still, nobody should take offence. We would call no one a lobster without good and sufficient claws.

Diam, tegas, kokoh bagaikan raksasa, kota besar ini selalu berdiri melawan para pencelanya. Mereka menyebutnya keras seperti besi; mereka bilang tak ada denyut belas kasih di dadanya; mereka membandingkan jalan-jalannya dengan hutan sunyi dan gurun lava. Namun di balik cangkang keras seekor lobster ditemukan daging yang lezat dan nikmat. Mungkin perumpamaan lain akan lebih bijak. Tetap saja, tak seorang pun boleh tersinggung. Kita tak akan menyebut siapa pun lobster tanpa capit yang baik dan memadai.

No calamity so touches the common heart of humanity as does the straying of a little child. Their feet are so uncertain and feeble; the ways are so steep and strange.

Tak ada malapetaka yang begitu menyentuh hati sesama manusia seperti tersesatnya seorang anak kecil. Kaki mereka begitu tidak pasti dan lemah; jalan-jalan begitu curam dan asing.

Major Griggs hurried down to the corner, and up the avenue into Billy’s place. “Gimme a rye-high,” he said to the servitor. “Haven’t seen a bow-legged, dirty-faced little devil of a six-year-old lost kid around here anywhere, have you?”

Mayor Griggs bergegas turun ke sudut jalan, dan naik ke jalan utama menuju tempat Billy. "Berikan aku segelas rye," katanya kepada si pelayan. "Kau belum melihat seorang anak enam tahun berkaki bengkok, bermuka kotor, yang hilang di sekitar sini, kan?"

Mr. Toomey retained Miss Purdy’s hand on the steps. “Think of that dear little babe,” said Miss Purdy, “lost from his mother’s side—perhaps already fallen beneath the iron hoofs of galloping steeds—oh, isn’t it dreadful?”

Tuan Toomey masih menggenggam tangan Nona Purdy di tangga. "Bayangkan bayi kecil yang malang itu," kata Nona Purdy, "hilang dari sisi ibunya—mungkin sudah terjatuh di bawah tapal besi kuda-kuda yang berlari kencang—oh, bukankah itu mengerikan?"

“Ain’t that right?” agreed Mr. Toomey, squeezing her hand. “Say I start out and help look for um!”

"Benar sekali, bukan?" Tuan Toomey menyetujui, meremas tangannya. "Bagaimana kalau aku keluar dan membantu mencarinya!"

“Perhaps,” said Miss Purdy, “you should. But, oh, Mr. Toomey, you are so dashing—so reckless—suppose in your enthusiasm some accident should befall you, then what—”

"Mungkin," kata Nona Purdy, "kau harus melakukannya. Tapi, oh, Tuan Toomey, kau begitu berani—begitu nekat—bagaimana jika dalam semangatmu itu terjadi kecelakaan padamu, lalu apa yang—"

Old man Denny read on about the arbitration agreement, with one finger on the lines.

Orang tua Denny terus membaca tentang kesepakatan arbitrase itu, dengan satu jari menelusuri barisnya.

In the second floor front Mr. and Mrs. McCaskey came to the window to recover their second wind. Mr. McCaskey was scooping turnips out of his vest with a crooked forefinger, and his lady was wiping an eye that the salt of the roast pork had not benefited. They heard the outcry below, and thrust their heads out of the window.

Di jendela depan lantai dua, Tuan dan Nyonya McCaskey datang ke jendela untuk mengambil napas kedua mereka. Tuan McCaskey sedang mengeruk lobak dari rompinya dengan jari telunjuknya yang bengkok, dan istrinya sedang mengusap mata yang tak terbantu oleh garam dari daging babi panggang itu. Mereka mendengar keributan di bawah, dan menjulurkan kepala mereka keluar jendela.

“’Tis little Mike is lost,” said Mrs. McCaskey, in a hushed voice, “the beautiful, little, trouble-making angel of a gossoon!”

"Si kecil Mike hilang," kata Nyonya McCaskey, dengan suara pelan, "malaikat kecil yang cantik dan suka membuat masalah itu!"

“The bit of a boy mislaid?” said Mr. McCaskey, leaning out of the window. “Why, now, that’s bad enough, entirely. The childer, they be different. If ’twas a woman I’d be willin’, for they leave peace behind ’em when they go.”

"Bocah kecil itu hilang jejaknya?" kata Tuan McCaskey, menyandarkan tubuh keluar jendela. "Wah, itu sudah cukup buruk, sungguh. Anak-anak, mereka berbeda. Kalau itu perempuan dewasa aku tak akan keberatan, sebab mereka meninggalkan kedamaian di belakang mereka ketika pergi."

Disregarding the thrust, Mrs. McCaskey caught her husband’s arm.

Mengabaikan sindiran itu, Nyonya McCaskey memegang lengan suaminya.

“Jawn,” she said, sentimentally, “Missis Murphy’s little bye is lost. ’Tis a great city for losing little boys. Six years old he was. Jawn, ’tis the same age our little bye would have been if we had had one six years ago.”

"Jawn," katanya, dengan nada sentimental, "anak kecil Nyonya Murphy hilang. Kota ini memang hebat dalam menghilangkan anak-anak kecil. Dia baru enam tahun. Jawn, itu sama usianya dengan anak kecil kita seandainya kita punya satu enam tahun yang lalu."

“We never did,” said Mr. McCaskey, lingering with the fact.

"Kita tak pernah punya," kata Tuan McCaskey, merenungkan kenyataan itu.

“But if we had, Jawn, think what sorrow would be in our hearts this night, with our little Phelan run away and stolen in the city nowheres at all.”

"Tapi seandainya kita punya, Jawn, bayangkan betapa dukanya hati kita malam ini, dengan si kecil Phelan kita hilang dan diculik entah di mana di kota ini."

“Ye talk foolishness,” said Mr. McCaskey. “’Tis Pat he would be named, after me old father in Cantrim.”

"Kau bicara omong kosong," kata Tuan McCaskey. "Namanya Pat, seperti ayahku dulu di Cantrim."

“Ye lie!” said Mrs. McCaskey, without anger. “Me brother was worth tin dozen bog-trotting McCaskeys. After him would the bye be named.” She leaned over the window-sill and looked down at the hurrying and bustle below.

"Kau bohong!" kata Nyonya McCaskey, tanpa amarah. "Saudaraku bernilai sepuluh lusin McCaskey yang norak dari rawa. Anak itu akan dinamai menurut namanya." Ia bersandar di ambang jendela dan memandang ke bawah pada keramaian dan kesibukan di sana.

“Jawn,” said Mrs. McCaskey, softly, “I’m sorry I was hasty wid ye.”

"Jawn," kata Nyonya McCaskey, dengan lembut, "aku menyesal sudah gegabah padamu."

“’Twas hasty puddin’, as ye say,” said her husband, “and hurry-up turnips and get-a-move-on-ye coffee. ’Twas what ye could call a quick lunch, all right, and tell no lie.”

"Itu bubur gegabah, seperti katamu," kata suaminya, "dan lobak tergesa-gesa serta kopi cepat-cepatlah. Itu bisa disebut makan siang cepat saji, sungguh, tak bohong."

Mrs. McCaskey slipped her arm inside her husband’s and took his rough hand in hers.

Nyonya McCaskey menyelipkan lengannya ke dalam lengan suaminya dan menggenggam tangannya yang kasar itu dalam tangannya.

“Listen at the cryin’ of poor Mrs. Murphy,” she said. “’Tis an awful thing for a bit of a bye to be lost in this great big city. If ’twas our little Phelan, Jawn, I’d be breakin’ me heart.”

"Dengar tangisan Nyonya Murphy yang malang itu," katanya. "Sungguh mengerikan bagi seorang anak kecil hilang di kota besar ini. Kalau itu si kecil Phelan kita, Jawn, aku pasti akan hancur hati."

Awkwardly Mr. McCaskey withdrew his hand. But he laid it around the nearing shoulder of his wife.

Dengan canggung Tuan McCaskey menarik tangannya. Tetapi ia meletakkannya di sekitar bahu istrinya yang semakin merapat.

“’Tis foolishness, of course,” said he, roughly, “but I’d be cut up some meself if our little Pat was kidnapped or anything. But there never was any childer for us. Sometimes I’ve been ugly and hard with ye, Judy. Forget it.”

"Itu omong kosong, tentu saja," katanya, dengan kasar, "tapi aku juga akan sangat sedih kalau si kecil Pat kita diculik atau semacamnya. Tapi kita tak pernah punya anak. Kadang-kadang aku bersikap buruk dan keras padamu, Judy. Lupakan saja."

They leaned together, and looked down at the heart-drama being acted below.

Mereka bersandar berdekatan, dan memandang ke bawah pada drama menyentuh hati yang sedang berlangsung di sana.

Long they sat thus. People surged along the sidewalk, crowding, questioning, filling the air with rumours, and inconsequent surmises. Mrs. Murphy ploughed back and forth in their midst, like a soft mountain down which plunged an audible cataract of tears. Couriers came and went.

Lama mereka duduk begitu. Orang-orang berdesakan di trotoar, berkerumun, bertanya-tanya, memenuhi udara dengan gosip, dan dugaan-dugaan tanpa dasar. Nyonya Murphy mondar-mandir di tengah mereka, seperti sebuah gunung lembut yang mengalirkan air terjun tangisan yang bisa didengar. Para pembawa kabar datang dan pergi.

Loud voices and a renewed uproar were raised in front of the boarding-house.

Suara-suara keras dan keributan baru terdengar lagi di depan rumah kos itu.

“What’s up now, Judy?” asked Mr. McCaskey.

"Ada apa lagi sekarang, Judy?" tanya Tuan McCaskey.

“’Tis Missis Murphy’s voice,” said Mrs. McCaskey, harking. “She says she’s after finding little Mike asleep behind the roll of old linoleum under the bed in her room.”

"Itu suara Nyonya Murphy," kata Nyonya McCaskey, mendengarkan. "Katanya ia menemukan si kecil Mike sedang tidur di balik gulungan linoleum tua di bawah ranjang di kamarnya."

Mr. McCaskey laughed loudly.

Tuan McCaskey tertawa keras.

“That’s yer Phelan,” he shouted, sardonically. “Divil a bit would a Pat have done that trick. If the bye we never had is strayed and stole, by the powers, call him Phelan, and see him hide out under the bed like a mangy pup.”

"Itulah si Phelan-mu," serunya, dengan sinis. "Seorang Pat tak akan pernah melakukan trik seperti itu. Kalau anak yang tak pernah kita miliki itu tersesat dan diculik, demi Tuhan, namakan saja dia Phelan, dan lihatlah dia bersembunyi di bawah ranjang seperti anak anjing kudisan."

Mrs. McCaskey arose heavily, and went toward the dish closet, with the corners of her mouth drawn down.

Nyonya McCaskey bangkit dengan berat, dan berjalan menuju lemari piring, dengan ujung mulutnya menurun.

Policeman Cleary came back around the corner as the crowd dispersed. Surprised, he upturned an ear toward the McCaskey apartment, where the crash of irons and chinaware and the ring of hurled kitchen utensils seemed as loud as before. Policeman Cleary took out his timepiece.

Polisi Cleary kembali ke sudut jalan itu saat kerumunan bubar. Terkejut, ia menengadahkan telinganya ke arah apartemen McCaskey, tempat suara gemerincing besi dan porselen serta dentingan peralatan dapur yang dilempar masih terdengar sekeras sebelumnya. Polisi Cleary mengeluarkan jam sakunya.

“By the deported snakes!” he exclaimed, “Jawn McCaskey and his lady have been fightin’ for an hour and a quarter by the watch. The missis could give him forty pounds weight. Strength to his arm.”

"Astaga!" serunya, "Jawn McCaskey dan istrinya sudah bertengkar selama satu jam seperempat menurut jam ini. Istrinya bisa mengalahkannya empat puluh pon beratnya. Semoga kuat lengannya."

Policeman Cleary strolled back around the corner.

Polisi Cleary pun berjalan kembali ke sudut jalan itu.

Old man Denny folded his paper and hurried up the steps just as Mrs. Murphy was about to lock the door for the night.

Orang tua Denny melipat korannya dan bergegas naik ke tangga tepat saat Nyonya Murphy hendak mengunci pintu untuk malam itu. </content>