The Well Dressed Beggar

nobody@flickr.com (Ladybird Photography) — Fri, 27 Apr 2012 07:57:38 -0700

From The Beggar on Dublin Bridge, short story by Ray Bradbury

And we looked again from the window. There was the cobbled Dublin street with the night wind blowing in a fine soot along one way to Trinity College, another to St. Stephen's Green. Across by the sweet shop two men stood mummified in the shadows. Farther up in a doorway was a bundle of old newspapers that would stir like a pack of mice and wish you the time of evening if you walked by. Below, by the hotel entrance, stood a feverish hothouse rose of a woman with a bundle.

"Oh, the beggars,' said my wife.

"No, not just "oh, the beggars,'' I said. "But, oh, the people in the streets, who somehow became beggars.'

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The Well Dressed Beggar