The Loom of Destiny
toward a deserted cart, made of a soap-box and two wire-bound perambulator wheels. In the cart lay several pieces of coal, many of them weighing almost a pound.
Suddenly the jubilant owner dodged back to his cart with a great piece of coal, almost the size of the Child's head. The possessor of the tin pail eyed the cart-owner with a certain reverential awe. Such wealth seemed fabulous to him. As the coal king dropped his precious burden into the soap-box, a man driving past in a yellow dog-cart flung his cigar stub into the neighbouring gutter. The quick eye of the coal king saw the act, and again he dived out into the mud. He picked up the cigar stub with exultant fingers and carefully wiped it off on his trousers.
Then he took the one dirty match from his pocket and went behind a telegraph pole to light up.
In the meantime the Child's gaze was fastened hungrily on the piece of coal in the soap-box. A green light came into his wondering baby eyes. His childish brow puckered up into a defiant, ominous, anarchistic
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