' He's a fighter, is John."
"He looks it. I'd like to help that boy--"
"All right--you can help him," Deborah said. "You'll find him quite a
tonic."
"A what?"
"A tonic," she repeated. And with a sudden tightening of her wide and
sensitive mouth, Deborah added slowly, "Because, though I've known many
hungry boys, Johnny Geer is the hungriest of them all--hungry to get on in
life, to grow and learn and get good things, get friends, love, happiness,
everything!" As she spoke of this child in her family, over her strong
quiet face there swept a fierce, intent expression which struck Roger
rather cold. What a fight she was making, this daughter of his, against
what overwhelming odds. But all he said to her was this:
"Now let's look at something more cheerful, my dear."
"Very well," she answered with a smile. "We'll go and see Isadore Freedom."
"Who's he?"
"Isadore Freedom," said Deborah, "is the beginning of something tremendous.
He came from Russian Poland--and the first American word he learned over
there was 'freedom.' So in New York he changed his name to that--very
solemnly, by due process of law. It cost him seven dollars. He had nine
dollars at the time. Isadore is a flame, a kind of a torch in the
wilderness."
"How does the flame earn his living?"
"At first in a sweatshop," she replied. "But he came to my school five
nights a week, and at ten o'clock when school was out he went to a little
basement cafe, where he sat at a corner table, drank one glass of Russian
tea and studied till they closed at one.
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