Evening star., 1917-11-25
AROUND The CITY.

It is q street OF secondhand smells.
Also. there arc noises-the Babel shrfil
OF foreign parent voices outclashed by
the raw Americanism OF their juniors:
the insistent call of the push cart, and
always. always the comings and goings
of job lot humanity that must buy other
peoples cast-offs, because-everybody
knows why.
But at ono corner the other morning
the sun lay like yellow blanket on
the pavement and the leaves swirled
down from the trees az II dying were
a gay sort Of dance. Also. there was
a box. and on the box sat a small girl
in blue holding a baby with rings in
its ears. The girl was a skinny little
tacker. with a dark face. mostly eyes.
and as she cuddled the baby her Groom
ing voice somehow suggested olives.
Vesuvius, wayside shrines and banana
carts. But there was nothing Latin
about the fat. bald-headed baby. ex-
cept the rings In its ears.
AS prosecuting woman came to
the box tho small girl was kissing the
baby on it's baldest spot. where the fuxz
the baby was gurgling out that in
scrutable symphony OF infancy COM
posed by Ewes little Cain. And as the
two made a picture worth looking at
the woman paused and offered the baby
an apple from a bag. The baby dim
pied coQuettishly and burrowed it's
face In sisters shoulder. Which proved.
OF course. that her name was Theda
Thank the ladee. Maggee.'
The baby waved It's arms and kicked
out two pink socks-one heel and a
row of toes outside showing pinker
than the wool.
planned IT with a pride that was some
thing fine to see. "She is not no dago.
She have earrings because my mar
mer She say SO. and her saint name is
MaEda1ena-but my par-per he say It
Is MaRgee for Amerry-can-andi II she
be boy she be President, maybeso."
Why. that is splendid. And what is
your name~
II am Marree-ah, after the Mother of
the cathedral IN Milan. wear blue
oil the time I am child. When am
beeg I have pink ribbon bow in my
hafr ana q green dress and felluh to
go with. But the bambino-no. the
babee she come when we get here. No
boy shall call her dago. I win nght
heem. I will keel heem IL he call her
dago."
That's about all, only
One would like to know in advance
what America will do for Maggee,
whose saints name is Magdaiena,
when she Is no longer a fat, bald
headed baby with rings in her ears.
And for dago Marree-ah. when the
time comes for pink ribbons and a
green dress with a felluh on the side !?
Quien 6abe3
A man was providing a free show
for two women who sat behind him
in a car.
He was a we'll dressed, clean scrub
bed man, but he had on the back Of
his neck that demoralizinS thing we
call pimsinnit when we have it our
selves, but which otherwise is heart
lessly known as a boil.
The women must have especially
relished the i'll that the mans flesh
was heir to. for at every stfff move
ment Of his head toward the man who
was with him they looked at each
other and eigsIed and giggled and
Well, Of course. all Of US get into
nervous gusts of laughter now and
then, but there is always a time to
stop. But the women didn't stop
they kept on gigsling and giggling.
II the sufferer heard he made no sign
boils.
His companion. however. obviously.
was not OF the mold Of which saints
are made. He gave several backward
6lances. which the women construed
dattering1y-it is q habit we dear girls