Upon the sidewalks the little world of
Polk Street swarmed and jostled through its daily round of life. On
fine days the great ladies from the avenue, one block above, invaded
the street, appearing before the butcher stalls, intent upon their day's
marketing. On rainy days their servants--the Chinese cooks or the second
girls--took their places. These servants gave themselves great airs,
carrying their big cotton umbrellas as they had seen their mistresses
carry their parasols, and haggling in supercilious fashion with the
market men, their chins in the air.
The rain persisted. Everything in the range of Trina's vision, from the
tarpaulins on the market-cart horses to the panes of glass in the roof
of the public baths, looked glazed and varnished. The asphalt of the
sidewalks shone like the surface of a patent leather boot; every hollow
in the street held its little puddle, that winked like an eye each time
a drop of rain struck into it.
Trina still continued to work for Uncle Oelbermann. In the mornings she
busied herself about the kitchen, the bedroom, and the sitting-room; but
in the afternoon, for two or three hours after lunch, she was occupied
with the Noah's ark animals.
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