Songs of the Underworld

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: Chung Hi Lo and Mary Chung Hi Lo is a Chinaman And he lives at Polk and Clark, And he only paddles around at night When the town is damp and dark; And he runs a place in a basement Lit by a taper's spark. This is the story of Mary Who was seen by Chung Hi Lo. Like some cashiers, of tender years, Mary...
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Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: Chung Hi Lo and Mary Chung Hi Lo is a Chinaman And he lives at Polk and Clark, And he only paddles around at night When the town is damp and dark; And he runs a place in a basement Lit by a taper's spark. This is the story of Mary Who was seen by Chung Hi Lo. Like some cashiers, of tender years, Mary wanted to know ' 'What went on in those basements Where 'slumming parties' go. She went with a crowd to this basement Run by Chung Hi Lo. He slipped her a ring, a golden thing, As he smirked and bended low, And the lure of the place got into her blood And called where e'er she'd go. She is hitting the pipe in this basement, And her cheeks are chalk-like cheeks, And she's been dreaming, drearily dreaming, For weeks, and weeks, and weeks, But Lo cooks her hop deliciously As fanciful words he speaks. Some day she'll float in the river; This is the end alway, When her fair eyes fade and another maid Charms her Lo away, And she will be known as missing, Missing 'till judgment day. chapter{{Section 4The Halo on the Snow The December wind was wailing, And sobbing around Saint Anne. And snow drifts dragged destruction, As far as the eye could scan. And the choir was at rehearsal, And the lights were burning low? Reflecting a stained glass Jesus, Upon the drifting snow. Huddled deep in a snow drift A child of the streets lies dead. With the richly stained glass Jesus, Blessing his childish head. He was only the spawn of the city. He was churched at old Saint Anne And Father Obrien for want of a name, Christened him Danny Magann. Often he wondered who he was, Daily he stood the jibe. Of Jew and Gentile newsboy, Born of a Ghetto tribe. Until this night he realized, Tomorrow was...