The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze Read Online Free PDF

I felt dirty. All night the men yell. Is it wrong to sell flowers?
    Hardly, said Paul. Tell me about the jail.
    He led the way to the table in the corner, and the Jew sat across from him.
    It is not for us, that place, the Jew said. They put me in a cesspool with three others. One was a beggar. I don’t know what the others were, but they looked bad. I don’t mean they were criminals. Bad, they themselves. All night I felt like a man in a room with frogs, warty things, and I kept holding the door and crying. I am ashamed. It is not often that I cry, but it was rotten. In another cell . . . but it is too rotten.
    Go ahead, said Paul. I’ve never been in jail. Tell me what it is like.
    In the next room, said the Jew, were two pansies. And the other two men, they were talking to those fellows . . . I mean whispering and begging, and the pansies were saying
no
, just like cheap women. I didn’t know men were really that way. I thought it was just talk, joking. And in all the rooms was that dirty laughter. I was sick all the time, and I had no cigarettes.
    What food did they bring you? Paul asked.
    Slop . . . dirt . . .
    Bread?
    Yes, bread, but I couldn’t eat. Only the bread was fit to eat, but I was too sick.
    Do you remember any of the things the men said at night? Did they sing?
    Yes, said the Jew.
    Any religious songs?
    Yes, religious, with dirty words.
    Did anyone pray?
    I heard only cussing, said the Jew.
    Across the room Paul saw Lambough walking slowly, holding a copy of the morning paper. He came soberly to the table and sat down without a word.
    This man just got out of jail, Paul said. He sells flowers. They put him in Saturday.
    Lambough glanced at the Jew and asked him if he felt all right. It seemed to him that the Jew must be very ill.
    I feel better, the Jew said. Anything is better than that place.
    What are you going to do? Lambough asked.
    The Jew coughed. I’ll try again. If they catch me, I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t beg.
    Paul said to Lambough, How much money have we?
    I’ve got sixty cents, Lambough said.
    The Jew got to his feet. Thanks for the cigarettes, he said to Paul.
    We’re almost broke, Paul said. Can you use a quarter?
    He brought some small change from his pants pocket.
    Thanks, said the Jew. I’ll try again. If they come after me, I’ll run.
    He hurried away from the table in confusion. Lambough watched him walk away. Everybody around here is either sick or cracked, he said. That poor fellow is ready to keel. What’d he say?
    Nearly killed him, the jail, said Paul.
    I went up to a place on Jones Street, said Lambough. They had an ad in the paper for a student to work for room and board. I didn’t get the job.
    But you
are
a student, said Paul. You had a right to go up. By the way, what
are
you studying?
    Starvation, said Lambough. Sure I’m a student. I felt lucky not to get the job, though. It was a cheap rooming house. They hired a Willy from Manila.
    What’s on your mind? Paul asked.
    Nothing, as usual, said Lambough. I’m just killing time.
    Do you think we’ll ever get jobs?
    Oh, said Lambough, it’s a cinch.
    So it looks bad, said Paul.
    Well, said Lambough, it doesn’t look good. Everything looks the same as ever, only more well-dressed men are begging in the streets. I had a talk with that girl up on Eddy Street. We get to sleep in the waiting-room again if business is slow.
    How was she? said Paul.
    Who? said Lambough. The girl? Oh, fine; she looked all right.
    What can you think of to talk about? Paul asked.
    You know me, said Lambough. One thing or the next. I know a little about everything.
    Paul slipped
New Bearings in English Poetry
from his coat pocket. What do you know about English poetry? he asked Lambough.
    What? said Lambough. You don’t want to go on discussing economics?
    Nuts, said Paul. We covered all that.
    Yes, said Lambough, but what has English poetry got to do with us?
    Nothing has anything much to do with us, said Paul. We’re