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Updated: May 14, 2025
The king had said so. Mechanically I looked down at the clothes I wore the former property of a suicide. "He was a fool," the vender of them had said, "he killed himself." Yes, there was no doubt of it he was a fool. I would not follow his example, or at least not yet. I had something to do first something that must be done if I could only see my way clear to it.
After crying and moaning for some time, in the arms of her supporters, the woman, whom I now found to be a vender of vegetables in the street, told her sad tale to all the passers-by of her acquaintance, with many tears and much gesticulation, but at length seated herself quietly down by her baskets, though every bone in her body must have ached from the severe beating she had received.
Here the latest thing in inventions, a gutta-percha rat, which, for reasons best known to the vender, scampers about squeaking with a mimicry to shame the original, holds an admiring crowd spellbound with mingled trepidation and delight.
Foremost among the disappointed was the tall woman, who, with a bitter tongue, began vehemently: "Why haven't I got any? Ain't I as good as they? Ain't my children as hungry as theirs?" Before I had time to reply, the vender stretched out his arm toward her, saying, "Why, governor, that's the very woman as I offered 'em to first, and she turned up her nose at 'em."
"Wouldn't you give more 'n six peanuts for a cent?" was a question asked by a very small boy, with big, staring eyes, of a candy vender at a circus booth. And as he spoke he looked wistfully at the quantity of nuts piled high up on the basket, and then at the six, each of which now looked so small as he held them in his hand.
Then my cab-driver showed me business blocks gay with signs and studded with fantastic and absurd advertisements of goods, and looking down the long street so adorned, it was as though each vender stood at his door howling: "For the sake of my money, employ or buy of me, and me only!" Have you ever seen a crowd at a famine-relief distribution?
And then she heard him go. Even then she went on with her work; she finished her "take" and laid down her pencil. It was finished now and he had gone. Finished? Gone? She was tearing open the envelope of the letter. This was what she read: "Little dictionary sprite, sunshine vender, and girl to be loved, if I were a free man I would say to you Come, little one, and let us learn of love.
But a brisk knocking began thereat and Moggy, encouraged by hearing the voices of Betty and the vender of splendours at the little parlour window, and also by the amber sunlight on the rustling ivy leaves, and the loud evening gossip of the sparrows, took heart of grace, and demanded shrilly 'Who's there? A whining beggar's voice asked admission.
"I never did." "Then you've got a treat," continued the vender. "He's the best in his line. Hope you'll enjoy it, sir," he concluded, with the courtesy displayed toward one and all of "Old Rough and Ready's" men that day. "It's the best seat left in the house. You come a little late, you know." And as the other moved away: "How different they look before and after!
Richardson to himself. Slowly the charcoal vender advanced. Seeing the post and the group of people around it, he reined in his old horse and looked at the figure. "See here," said Mr. Richardson. "Just gee a little and run the nose of your sled agin it and knock it over, will ye? It's a tarnal fiendish outrage to set up such a thing in front of a gentleman's store." "Do you own the figger?"
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