The bird of Manhatten

Chapter 13 - In which the bird is mad

February 1899
Newsboys Lodge House, Manhattan, New York City
Jack P.O.V.

"Mags?", Elmer asks. "I ripped my vest. Could ya sew it up foa me?"
"No.", she answers ill-natured.
"Why?"
"Because."
"Because what?"
"Because I can't sew."
"But... but ya a goil."
"Dat ain't even da point. Ask Buttons."
"But he's not home yet."
"Then wait."
At exactly dat moment, like he heard it, Buttons comes in.
"Heyo.", he smiles, but only 'till he sees Mags an' Elmer. "Ya two fightin'?"
"No.", Mags answers, but Elmer interrupts her. "She can't sew Buttons. Can ya believe dat? A goil dat can't sew." Mags gives him her death glare, but both ignore her it.
"Dat's true? Ya can't sew?", Buttons askes her now.
"No, I can't sew. Why's dat suddenly a problem? Da last...", she trails off an' counts some fingers. "Da last five years (get it? *wink*) nobody was interested in whether I could or could not sew. What's ya problem, Buttons?"
Now she's offended. Not good.
"Nothin'.", he says carefully. He sensed it too. "I jus' meant, I could teach ya."
"No."
"O-"
"Brilliant idea, Buttons.", I step between 'em.
"Jack!"
"No, Magpie. Dat's a wonderful idea." Now her death glare's foa me, but I don't care an' jus' star back. She gives in first.
"Fine.", she mutters.
"Perfect. When do ya start?"
"Um...", Buttons says. "When I sewed up Elmers vest?"
"Good. And Mags?" She looks at me, still offended. "Don't do anythin' stupid. I'll know it."
She rolls her eyes an' sticks out her tongue at me.
"Magpie!", I say, tryin' ta sound respectable, but she jus' smirks an' vanishes through door, before I can say anythin' else.
"This goil will be my death.", I sigh.
"She will be da death of us all.", Elmer adds wit' a smirk.
Buttons sits down beside him, takin' out a needle an' some yarn an' begins ta sew up Elmers vest. "Think she'll come back?", He asks, as he sticks da needle in da fabric.
"She will.", I answer, addin' a silent "At least I hope so."

I is right. She comes back. Three hours later.
"Where have ya been?", I ask, as she enters da bunk room.
"None of ya concern.", she answers without stoppin' or even lookin' at me.
"Ya where in Brooklyn, weren't ya?"
Since Spot Colon 'saved her life', as she likes ta say it, she's often over there.
She had been out before too, but I's still worried.
She stops, but doesn't answer, which is answer enough foa me.
I sigh. "Ya were in Brooklyn."
"An' if? Would dat be a problem?"
"No.", I sigh. "Of course not."
"Good." She walks past me an' vanishes behind da curtain.
"Teenagers.", I mutter an' shake my head. I hear da others giggle.