lots of school-girls snub that kid. Now that’s not right. It’s downright horrid! Mary was brought up in what you almost might call a pool of liquor, and I don’t call it fair to snub a child for that; for you know that, not only ‘Past’ Councilman Antor, but also Madam Antor, got what our boys call ‘lit-up’ on many public occasions. Antor’s pantry was full of it! Which way could that poor kid look without finding it? You know Mary is not so old as most of us; and I’m just going to go to that child and try to bring a ray of comfort into that young mind. That rum-guzzling Antor family!! Ugh!!”
****
But a city also has amusing sights; and our trio ran plump into that kind, just around a turn; for, standing on a soap box, shouting a high-sounding jargon of rapidly shot words, was Arthur Rankin, an original Organization lad; a crowd of boys, a man or two, and a woman hanging laughingly around. Our trio’s first inkling as to what it was all about was Arthur’s hail to Priscilla:—
“Aha! Branton Hills’ fair womanhood is now approaching!!”
Now if our trio didn’t know Arthur so thoroughly, such girls might balk at this pub-
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