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You saw them, flushed of face, with twitching fingers, indulging in a sort of orgy of dime spending in the five-and-ten-cent store on the wrong side of State Street. They pawed over bolts of cheap lace and bins of stuff in the fetid air of the crowded place.
While he was passing the five-and-ten-cent store, the Dakota Lodging House, Concordia Hall with its lodge-rooms and the offices of fortune-tellers and chiropractors, he thought of how much money he made, and he boasted a little and worried a little and did old familiar sums: "Four hundred fifty plunks this morning from the Lyte deal. But taxes due.
Then he pounded the bark on the stick gently with his knife handle, and pretty soon the bark slipped off, just as mamma takes off her gloves after she’s been down to the five-and-ten-cent store. Then Bully cut away some of the white wood, slipped on the bark again, and he had a whistle. “My! That’s fine!” he cried, as he blew a loud blast on it. “I think I’ll make another.”
You saw them, flushed of face, with twitching fingers, indulging in a sort of orgy of dime spending in the five-and-ten-cent store on the wrong side of State Street. They pawed over bolts of cheap lace and bits of stuff in the stifling air of the crowded place.
At six o'clock Fourteenth Street pours up from its basements, down from its lofts, and out from its five-and-ten-cent stores, shows, and arcades, in a great homeward torrent a sweeping torrent that flows full flush to the Subway, the Elevated, and the surface car, and then spreads thinly into the least pretentious of the city's homes the five flights up, the two rooms rear, and the third floor back.
She walked slowly up High Street. Passers-by turned to stare, but otherwise she was unrecognized. There was a new five-and-ten-cent store, and Finley Brothers had added an ell. High Street was paved. She made a foray down into the little side street where she had spent those queerly remote first seventeen years of her life. How dim her aunt seemed! The little unpainted frame house was gone.
Marcus Flachs took the question in ill part. "What the devil do you think I am running here," he demanded by way of answer "a five-and-ten-cent store?" "Since when do they sell it nutpicks in a five-and-ten-cent-store?" Morris retorted. Flachs snorted angrily. "I don't think they sell 'em even in five-and-ten-cent stores," he said; "and anyhow, Mr. Perlmutter, what for a present is nutpicks?
She's not an isolated hill billy that goes to town on Saturdays and anchors herself in the doorway of the five-and-ten-cent store to visit and gawk around. She's full of business. Sells her stuff, buys what she needs, and hits the trail for home. I expect Mrs. Gillis has seven or eight thousand dollars in bonds and cash stowed around in their cabin."
"But cussing him out won't do no good, Mawruss. The thing to do now is to get busy and turn out some garments what we can sell. Them masquerade costumes what he gets up you couldn't sell to a five-and-ten-cent store." "All right," Morris said. "Let's have another designer and leave Louis to do the cutting." "Another designer!" Abe exclaimed. "No, Mawruss, you're a good enough designer for me.
"I thought it was very strange what became of it. I couldn't understand how it would disappear from the room. I have a pin something like that but mine is just a cheap imitation. Aunt Debby says it is the kind one buys at a five-and-ten-cent store." For a moment, Helen stood silent. She was abashed and ashamed of the suspicion which she had long held in her mind.
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