Gr-r-r-r-rh!
* * * * *
That, then, is why Warble stood in such evident relief on the Pittsburgh
block.
Expelled! The world was hers!
It had always been hers, to be sure, but it was now getting bigger and more
hers every minute.
The very first day she went to school, a little boy said to her:
"Do you like me?"
"No," said Warble.
The little boy gave her all his candy and his red balloon.
So you see, she had a way--and got away with it.
* * * * *
Warble was an orphan. She had a paprika-seasoned sister, married to a
chiropodist, in Oshkosh. But for all that, she planned to earn her own
living.
And she had an ambition. At present beyond her grasp, yet so sure was she
of its ultimate attainment, that she shaped her entire cosmic consciousness
toward that end. Her ambition was not unique, perhaps not unattainable. It
had been achieved by others with seemingly little effort and less skill;
and though as yet, merely a radiant hope, Warble was determined that some
day she would gain her goal.
Her ambition was to get married. Her sister had; her mother had; she
politely assumed her grandmother had.
She would.
Often she imagined herself the heroine of delightful scenes she watched
at the cinema.
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