men, and things like
that. And so there are. Unfortunately, the people who need them aren't
up on them. Try it. Plant yourself, penniless, in the middle of State
Street on a busy day, dive into the howling, scrambling, pushing
maelstrom that hurls itself against the mountainous and impregnable form
of the crossing policeman, and see what you'll get out of it, provided
you have the courage.

Desperation gave Jennie a false courage. On the strength of it she made
two false starts. The third time she reached the arm of the crossing
policeman, and clutched it. That imposing giant removed the whistle from
his mouth, and majestically inclined his head without turning his gaze
upon Jennie, one eye being fixed on a red automobile that was showing
signs of sulking at its enforced pause, the other being busy with a
cursing drayman who was having an argument with his off horse.

Jennie mumbled her question.

Said the crossing policeman:

"Getcher car on Wabash, ride to 'umpty-second, transfer, get off at Blank
Street, and walk three blocks south."

Then he put the whistle back in his mouth, blew two shrill blasts, and
the horde of men, women, motors, drays, trucks, cars, and horses swept
over him, through him, past him, leaving him miraculously untouched.

Jennie landed on the opposite curbing, breathing hard. What was that
street? Umpty-what? Well, it didn't matter, anyway. She hadn't the
nickel for car fare.

What did you do next? You begged from people on the street. Jennie
selected a middle-aged, prosperous, motherly looking woman. She framed
her plea with stiff lips. Before she had finished her sentence she found
herself addressing empty air. The middle-aged, prosperous, motherly
looking woman had hurried on.

Well, then you tried a man. You had to be careful there. He mustn't be
the wrong kind. There were so many wrong kinds. Just an ordinary
looking family man would be best. Ordinary looking family men are
strangely in the minority. There are so many more bull-necked, tan-shoed
ones. Finally Jennie's eye, grown sharp with want, saw one. Not too
well dressed, kind-faced, middle-aged.

She fell into step beside him.

"Please, can you help me out with a shilling?"

Jennie's nose was red, and her eyes watery. Said the middle-aged family
man with the kindly face:

"Beat it. You've had about enough I guess."

Jennie walked into a department store, picked out the oldest and most
stationar