Arthur Stringer

“ He had, of course, many rivals, for there was always a wandering herd of equally hungry-eyed, ragged-looking urchins haunting those alluring wharves, flitting about from boat to boat and cart to cart, like a flock of overgrown city sparrows, ever ready to pounce down upon and fight over any stray piece of fruit, melon rind, or other dubiously misplaced edible to be found among those over-crowded, dirty, busy, clamorous streets and stalls where men bring from far off all those things that go to feed a great, hungry, heedless city. ”

“ In Hungry the paternal instinct had developed at an early age. He even gave Brickie, willingly, his last bit of orange, for Brickie's appetite was enormous. He found he could satisfy the gnawing pain in his own stomach by saving the peelings and eating them afterwards, when Brickie was n't looking. At times, it was true, the gnawing would become frightfully strong, but on his hungriest day he would rather see Brickie's lips close deliciously round the end of an over-ripe banana than eat it himself. ”

“ How it all might have turned out it is hard to say. But on the paltriest accidents of life hinges the course of destiny.
It came about simply because the driver of an express waggon took four glasses of beer, when he knew three glasses were enough. His waggon was piled high with crates on their way to the commission house. And in those crates were little wooden boxes of imported Maryland strawberries. Their fragrance was wafted up and down the wharf, and they glowed through the chinks in the crate in such a manner that Hungry could not help following after the waggon. ”