Clarence went down to the Plugged Nickel, a pot house on the corner.
"Do you have anything you want to make disappear, Nokomis?"
"Only my paunch."
"If I make it disappear it'll leave a hole in you and you'll bleed to death."
"That's right, I would. Why don't you try it on the fire plug outside?"
This in a way was one of the happiest afternoons ever in the neighborhood. The children came from blocks around to play in the flooded streets and gutters, and if some of them drowned (and we don't say that they did drown) in the flood (and brother! it was a flood), why, you have to expect things like that. The fire engines (whoever heard of calling fire engines to put out a flood?) were apparatus-deep in the water. The policemen and ambulance men wandered around wet and bewildered.
"Resuscitator, resuscitator, anybody wanna resuscitator," chanted Clarissa Willoughby.
"Oh, shut up," said the ambulance attendants.
Nokomis, the bar man in the Plugged Nickel, called Clarence aside.