From the day
Perspective: The Anxious Local · Sight
The July glare bounces off those new glass shop windows, making my head ache as I stare at the headline about Bishop Potter’s successor. Blimey, five cents for a single loaf of bread is highway robbery, and I can hardly breathe in this humidity while those rich blockheads uptown probably have that new cooling air machinery. I see a silk-ribboned **Teddy Bear** propped in a display, its button eyes mocking my empty coin purse; everyone is mad for them, but how can a man think of toys with prices climbing so high? I just pull my cap low against the noon sun and try to whistle "Bill Bailey" to drown out the dread of tomorrow's bills.