Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers
[he rushes off].
THE FLOWER GIRL
(picking up her scattered flowers and replacingthem in the basket)
Theres menners f’ yer! Te-oo banches o
voylets trod into the mad.
(She sits down on the plinth of the column, sorting her flowers, on the lady’s
right. She is not at all an attractive person. She is perhaps eighteen, perhaps
twenty, hardly older. She wears a little sailor hat of black straw that has long
been exposed to the dust and soot of London and has seldom if ever been
brushed. Her hair needs washing rather badly: its mousy color can hardly be
natural. She wears a shoddy black coat that reaches nearly to her knees and is
shaped to her waist. She has a brown skirt with a coarse apron. Her boots are
much the worse for wear. She is no doubt as clean as she can afford to be; but
compared to the ladies she is very dirty. Her features are no worse than theirs;
but their condition leaves something to he desired; and she needs the services of a