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The boys had yelled for help from others of their kind and their numbers increased dangerously. The motorman of the trolley car had neglected his duty and joined a gaping crowd at a corner. Riot and enmity to the circus people was in the air. Andy formed a speedy decision. "Quick!" he ordered, "get into that car." A brickbat knocked off his hat.
Brown's grandmother, and in the olden days, before yarn for socks and mittens was made by machinery, it was spun on a spinning wheel. This was a big wheel, as large as one on a wagon, but not so heavy. And it went around and around, very easily. Bunny and Sue would sit on a trunk, spin the wheel, and make believe they were in a trolley car. They would take turns being the motorman.
And you kin hang me till I'm dead, but I can't tell nothin' more. Don't yuh spose I want to know where's he at?" "Well " Mary V crossed the path of a street car, leaving the motorman shivering while he stood on the bell that clamored wildly. "Maybe you are telling the truth but I doubt it." They were across Figueroa Street and speeding out toward Westlake.
"Donald, what ... what do you mean? You're not ..." She gasped, and laid her hand with an impulsive clutch on his arm. "Look out! Don't interfere with the motorman," he laughed more naturally, as the car swerved almost into the curbing. "Yes, I am. I'm going away ... almost immediately." "Away? Where?" "To France." "Oh, Don, you mustn't; you can't. You're needed here so much."
The girl had a transfer and left, smiling sweetly, but separately, in turn, to the motorman and her young Italian friend. The latter watched her go. Then a new look came over his face, which I wondered at. It was soon explained. The transfer point was also a division point for this car.
"Then I'll help them on," said Jeff, although Judith assured him she was quite able to do it herself. "Yonder she is!" the conductor shouted to the motorman. "I knew she would come. I never knew a red-headed gal to disappoint a fellow yet." Eagerly the basket was seized by the hungry men and loud was their shout of joy over the can of ice-cold buttermilk.
Justice Van Fleet of the supreme court of California recently rendered an opinion which indicates the utter emptiness of our boast that in this land all men are equal before the law. Because of the confusion or ignorance of a new motorman, the young child of a plumber, playing upon the track, was killed by an electric car.
Emma knew that the high, clear tenor note was the shrill cry of the lame "newsie" at the corner of Sixth Avenue and Twenty-sixth Street. Those deep, thunderous bass notes were the combined reverberation of nearby "L" trains, distant subway and clanging surface cars. That sharp staccato was a motorman clanging his bell of warning. These things she knew.
"Goodby." She did not realize it, or intend it, but she had appealed to one of his powerful instincts, a powerful instinct in all predatory natures the instinct to pursue whatever seems to be flying. He shook his head at the motorman, who was bringing the car to a halt; the car went on. He stood in front of her. Her color was high, but she could not resist the steady compulsion of his eyes.
He tugged at the obstinate pump, the heel gave way and the man fell back, the shoe in his hand, the heel neatly ripped off. "Oh, say, I'm sorry!" he stammered. "I didn't mean to tear it off here's the heel; I guess a shoemaker can put it on again for you." He handed her the pump and the heel and the motorman and conductor went back to their trolley.
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