perfectly safe bet.

So this day, having got rid of all my leaflets, I was slowly working my
way toward the Avenue, when publicity was thrust upon me.

You know this Bohemian part of New York is made up of old houses which
is so picturesque through not having much plumbing and so forth and heat
being furnished principally by the talk of the tenants on Bolshevism and
etc. These inconveniences makes a atmosphere of freedom and all that and
furnishes a district where the shoe-clerk can go and be his true self
among the many wild, free spirits from Chicago and all points west.
Well, this neighborhood could stand a lot of repairs, not alone in the
personal sense, but in a good many of the buildings, but these are
seldom made until interfered with by the police or building departments.
And on the corner of the street which I was now at there was a big old
house full of people who _did_ something, I suppose, and these were
mostly bursting out through the open windows or sitting on the little
balconies which looked like they couldn't hold a flower pot and a pint
of milk with any safety much less a human. But there they was, sitting,
with all the indifference to fate, for which they are so well known. I
couldn't but notice the risk they ran, but I should worry how many
radicals are killed, and so I paid but little heed until I noticed that
there was three little kids--all ragged children of the dear
proletariat--which some of the Bohemians had hauled up on a balcony
which was too frail for adults. The minute I see that balcony I was
scared to death, although the short-haired girl and the long-haired man
which was letting the kids out on it was laughing and care-free as you
please. The kids got out all right, and then something awful happened.

Right below was a open space at the head of this particular column,
where the officers and color-bearers and etc was. Rosco and Ted was
getting a picture of them. But while I generally watch a camera, this
time I didn't on account of watching the kids. And as I looked that
rotten old balcony broke and one them, a little girl, fell through and
hung there, caught by her skirt, and it a ragged one at that. Everybody
screamed and yelled and sort of drew back, which is the first way people
act at a horror before they begin to think. I yelled myself, but I
started toward her, because the radicals couldn't reach her from above
and from below the ground was fully twenty feet away and nothing but