Womanhood— In Extremis
Sunday is a meagre day for the street seller. No one likes to be asked to buy matches, at any rate, in the earlier part of the day. There is a general feeling that the unpleasant things of life should be hidden away until after church time. Churchgoing, as a matter of fact, does not predispose to the giving of alms. I amused myself with experiments in this direction, but never got so much as a penny from any would-be worshipper. After they leave the House of God they are a little softer, and if you attack them at the right moment, between leaving worship and getting home to dinner, you may be quite lucky.
No one with any sense will, of course, try to sell matches or beg coppers from the Sunday crowd in the park. I very much wanted to see what would happen if I asked one of the beautifully gowned women on church parade for the price of a bed, but I felt it was too risky. It was ninety to one that I should have been run in, and that was an experience which during this adventure, at least, I did not want to try.