Page:Burgess--Aint Angie awful.djvu/87

Rh 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-