The bird of Manhatten

Chapter 14 - in which it rains (again) and the bird has a new hobby

March 1899
Newsboys Lodge House, Manhattan, New York City
Buttons P.O.V.

It's rainin'. No, not rainin', pourin'.
Da streets of New York have turned inta rivers an' is like dead. No one wants ta go out in a weather like dat. Luckily, an' ironically, it's Sunday, we don't have ta sell papes.
We'se sittin' in da bunk room. Most play go-fish, some is sleepin' an' da rest's chattin'. Da rest includes me an' Specs.
Suddenly da door flies open an' a soaking wet Mags comes in. From her coat, da rain's drippin' an' her shoes is dirty, but she grins like she jus' won one million dollars. She gets rid of coat an' shoes an' comes over ta us.
"Look, what I found." she proudly smiles an' throws a mostly dry bag on my bed. I raise an eyebrow. "What's dat?"
"Dat, my dear,", she answers. "is yarn."
"Yarn?"
"Yeah. Medda taught me how ta knit. I'll knit da boys warm scarfs foa da winter."
"Mags. It's March."
"I know. But ya many."
"An' why is ya showin' me dat?"
She blushes a little. "I... um... wanted ta ask, whether ya wanna help me?"
"I knew it."
"Ya don't have ta.", she says, an' already reaches foa da bag, but grab her hand.
"I'll do it."
"Great!" she smiles again. "Ya know how ta knit?"
"No."
"No problem, I'll teach ya. Wanna learn it too, Specs?"
"Um...", he answers. "Na, it's fine." He stands up. "I'll leave ya to it.", he says an' goes ta join da others playin' cards.
"I didn't meant ta chase him away.", Mags says. She sounds like she's seriously sorry.
"He'll be ok.", I try ta cheer her up. "So, how does knittin' work?"

She shows me everything she knows, especially a certain kind of stick, which works like/as follows: get two left, get two right, let one fall.
We both practice until it looks halfway good, then we start da scarfs. By da time it gets dark we both have knitted half a scarf.