icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Log out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

Maggie: A Girl of the Streets

Chapter 8 No.8

Word Count: 1424    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

's mind, she began to have an inte

be allus fixin' and fussin'? Good Gawd,"

She envied elegance and soft palms. She craved those adornments of person which she

s she chanced to meet, smiled with serenity as though

d surely shrivelling in the hot, stuffy room. The begrimed windows rattled incessantly fr

ing out, with heads bended over their work, tales of imagined or real girlhood happiness, past drunks, the baby at home,

woman with an eternal grievance. Too, she thought Pete to be

the oily beard of the fat foreigner who owned the establishment.

e depths of a cushioned chair. His pocket

At home, she found her mother often drunk and always raving. It seems that the world had treated this woman very badly, and she took a deep revenge upon such portions of it as came within her reach. She broke furniture as if she

d no control. His well-trained legs brought him staggering home and

dime museum where rows of meek freaks astonished her. She contemplate

At home, she found her mother often drunk and always raving. It seems that the world had treated this woman very badly, and she took a deep revenge upon such portions of it as came within her reach. She broke furniture as if she

d no control. His well-trained legs brought him staggering home and

dime museum where rows of meek freaks astonished her. She contemplate

rts. Sunday afternoons would sometimes find them at these places. Pete did not appear to be part

ause one of them had pulled his tail and he had not wheeled about quickly enough to discover who did it. Ever after Pete knew that monkey

t 'till next summer an' I'

are for stony stare, the appalling scrutiny of the watch-dogs of the treasures. Occasiona

ment he would go to the mum

y to all which he had to go through, bu

ittle jugs! Hundred jugs in a row! Ten rows in a case

e of her guardian, who is cruelly after her bonds, by the hero with the beautiful sentiments. The latter spent most of h

n singing "Joy to the World." To Maggie and the rest of the audience this was transcendental realism. Joy always within, and th

ery accurately drawn. She echoed the maledictions that the occupants of the gallery sho

he drama. With untiring zeal they hissed vice and applauded virtue. Un

hero with cries, and jeered the villain, hooting and calling attention to his whiskers. When anybody died i

s generous and noble sentiments and confounded the speeches of his opponents by making irrelevant but very sharp remarks. Those actors who were cursed with villainy parts were confronted at every turn by

ive of the audience, over the villain and the rich man, his pockets stuffed with

eventually surmounted the wealthy and wicked. The theatre made her think. She wondered if the culture and refinement she had seen imitated

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open