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hardly finished reading through the advertisement for the second
time when the train reeled round a corner, the flanged jaws of
its wheels screeched, and Miss Craig trying desperately to grab
a strap, dropped her little pink handkerchief. The hankerchief
fluttered down past Mr. Warburg’s newspaper, spread its wings
like a butterfly, and landed gently in his unconscious lap. The
train having taken the curve, and Miss Craig regaining her bal
ance turned to Miss Williams and said, “Holy Moses 1” Leaving
a blurred trail of lights and spectral faces the train slewed past
Eighteenth street. “What?” said Miss Williams. “Look!”
Miss Craig lowered her eyes. Now if Miss Williams hadn’t
laughed or if their eyes hadn’t met, it might have turned out all
right. The handkerchief might have blown off his lap, or it
might have just slipped onto the floor, or he might have seen it
lying there and passed it up to her if he was gentleman enough.
But he probably was
NOT GENTLEMAN ENOUGH
Miss Williams began giggling, the motion of the train is giggly
anyway, doing her mouth up with a lip stick to make off she
wasn’t laughing, which of course was no use because she lost her
balance and that set them off all over again. And just then that
fat nigger woman saw it lying there, so she began rolling her
eyes trying to hide her big blobber lips with a handkerchief, and
then the man next to Miss Williams saw it, and the young man
who’d fallen over, saw it, and pretty soon everybody in the car
was peeking over their shoulders to take a look at it. Miss Craig
went white and red by turn not daring to look at Miss Williams
for fear she’d scream. And then the man himself began to get
figgety behind his newspaper and the next moment he was star
ing over it again at Miss Craig. Of course he must have seen
everyone looking in that direction, for he looked down over his
paper and saw it. Or probably he must have just glanced at it,
for he was wearing a baby blue shirt and the handkerchief was
pink. At any rate the difference in color didn’t seem to mean
much to him, for he went behind his paper and when a moment
or two later he coughed and turned to a new page Presto! the
handkerchief had absolutely disappeared. Naturally Miss Craig
and Miss Williams didn’t dare move their eyes one way or the
other, but kept them positively glued to “Nodoreen. Harmless.
Effective.” until finally the train did stop at Canal Street, and
out Miss Craig and Miss Williams wriggled as hard as they
could and then just ran for the exit. As for Mr. Warburg, he
stayed within the shell of his newspaper, and was carried past
his usual station all the way to Rector street. But this is not
extremely unusual in the daily annals of the subway, for occa