MAGGIE: A GIRL OF THE STREETS
BY STEPHEN CRANE





Chapter I


A very little boy stood upon a heap of gravel for the honor of
Rum Alley. He was throwing stones at howling urchins from Devil's
Row who were circling madly about the heap and pelting at him.

His infantile countenance was livid with fury. His small body
was writhing in the delivery of great, crimson oaths.

"Run, Jimmie, run! Dey'll get yehs," screamed a retreating
Rum Alley child.

"Naw," responded Jimmie with a valiant roar, "dese micks can't
make me run."

Howls of renewed wrath went up from Devil's Row throats.
Tattered gamins on the right made a furious assault on the gravel
heap. On their small, convulsed faces there shone the grins of
true assassins. As they charged, they threw stones and cursed in
shrill chorus.

The little champion of Rum Alley stumbled precipitately down