was soft-hearted; she would weep even over her boiled eggs, when she found a poor little dead birdie inside. So they thought she had merely found another gray hair that day—possibly in her soup—and went right on chewing gum.
So fast came the tears that she could scarcely see, that afternoon, to fasten the wire netting in the seats of the celebrated Willwear Underwear. Ah, yes, there are often tragedies, dear reader, woven into the most inconspicuous portions of your geography. Little you know, when you sit down to your happy meal—but let that pass! It is too horrible. One sees so many tragedies in the movies what’s the good of having them in real life!
******
As the chickens were coming home to roost on Broadway, that evening, Angie was standing disconsolately on the corner of Madison Square voraciously eating the steam from a roasted peanut machine—it was all she could afford for dinner. As she waited idly, wondering why blondes would wear red hats, a beautiful whiskery gentle-
