A Social Meteor — page 108: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

98 A SOCIAL METEOR. the store windows at the gay holiday goods dis- played there. Wretched-looking women, leading ill-clad, sad- faced little children, besieged the passers-by, begging, more or less successfully, for “a few pennies to buy bread.” The stage-drivers, muffled up to the chin, showed only their quick, watchful eyes and the tips of their rosy noses as they drove clattering along, swinging their arms to keep up the circu- lation. Men and women, laden with mysterious bundles which assumed grotesque shapes under their brown paper wrappings, hastened up and down the streets, on Christmas thoughts intent. Georgie shivered a little as she turned into Fifth avenue, for the wind struck her full in the face, and she was glad to find herself in the close, warm atmosphere of Mrs. Wheatley’s spacious drawing-room. She found the old lady confined to her room with an attack of rheumatism so severe that she could not put her foot to the floor. “Dear me, grandma,” said she, “this is really too bad, and I was going to ask you and Uncle Harry to a play to-night.” Gomicbooks (E(o)