"That's not so bad," Mrs. Cavallo's visitor assured her. "If a boy of sixteen is in by ten o'clock, that's early enough."
"Tony no good, though," returned the mother, shaking her head. "He steal twenty dollars that I save for house [meaning rent] and coal."
"How did you get the twenty dollars?" her visitor inquired.
"Tony give me his pay every week. I save twenty dollars."
"Well, then," the social worker explained, "Tony probably didn't think that he was stealing the money. He thought it belonged to him. He had earned it. You mustn't expect a boy of his age to feel the same responsibility toward the family that you do."
But Mrs. Cavallo found still another objection.
"Tony just like his father. He no good."
"If Tony has had as bad a father as you say, how do you expect him to support you like a good husband?" was the response. "He hasn't had any example to live up to."
"He talk like his father," continued Mrs. Cavallo, still apparently unconvinced. "He talk bad to me. When I tell him to do something, he talk bad. He say—'I do as I darn please.'"
