“Ladies and gentlemen,” she screamed, “this is a fake business—that man won a’ umbreller an’ brought it back, an’ so did the other man.” By this time she was out of reach of the stomach and voice, who threatened to knock two more teeth down her throat. But Lizzie’s voice was not out of reach, and the crowd could hear her yelling, “Everybody else wins penny lead pencils.” The crowd laughed and left.
Lizzie waited for the next crowd, and, coming from her hiding-place, gave them the same information.
After the crowd had gone the stomach and voice caught Lizzie, who, while trying to free herself from his grasp, bumped her lip, and the blood oozed from her tender gum.
“P’liceman, p’liceman, help!” she screamed.
Seeing the people in the neighbourhood coming to Lizzie’s rescue, the stomach and voice promised to return her money if she would keep quiet.
“I’m goner tell ’em all you knocked my teeth out ’less you gi’ me the album,” snapped Lizzie.
“A’ right,” meekly answered the stomach and voice, who had been collared by this time, but was released when the men received Lizzie’s invitation to come up the alley and see her album.
“Good-bye, mister—thanks awfully for the gum an’ pencils, too,” and away she ran, the album in her arms.
When in the room, she locked the door for fear the album would be taken away.
“Kitty, look! A’ album, and me on’y seven. They’ll just have to call me Elizabeth, freckles an’ legs an’ all.”