Magruder's Curiosity Cabinet by H. P. Wood Page A

tenement—somehow extinguishing the flames, while previous efforts had failed—and the building too, is saved. Then one miracle more: the bodies on the street spring to life again, bowing and waving.
    Archie joins the crowd in applauding and whistling. “Now that is a show!”
    Kitty claps along but shakes her head. “No, that is bizarre!”
    â€œHow do you mean?”
    â€œWell, it’s a ‘show’ about something tragic that happens all the time, to real people! And real people who are forced to choose between burning and jumping? They don’t take bows afterward.”
    â€œPrecisely my point! Child, look around you.” He gestures at the happy crowd, now gathering their belongings and streaming out in search of the next miracle. “These sheep live the most dreary lives imaginable. Lives that will, for the most part, end very badly indeed. What was it the poet said? ‘Eat, drink, and be merry’?”
    â€œFor tomorrow we die in a tenement fire?”
    â€œQuite so. Tomorrow , we die in a tenement fire. But not today , you see. Today is our lucky day. Today, we cheat death once again.”
    Kitty smiles sadly, thinking of Nate. How his lucky day had come and gone. “Only in New York,” she says quietly.
    â€œCome! I’ve a mighty thirst, Miss Hayward. But not that watered-down swill they sell in the park. I have a better idea.”

Chapter 11
    Unflappable Girls
    As night falls on Magruder’s, Rosalind sends Whitey home with a fresh bandage and strict instructions to get some rest and avoid entanglements with princesses and tattooed men alike.
    At the bar, Zeph, Rosalind, and Enzo nurse their drinks and mull over the strange events of the day. The door opens, and a young woman soon appears at the bottom of the steps. She wears a modest, ankle-length skirt in a warm-brown color with a white, high-necked shirtwaist top. Enzo nudges Rosalind and jerks his thumb at the girl. “See, peacock?” he says. “This is how proper ladies dress.”
    â€œHumph,” Rosalind mutters. “Dress like a mud pie with a face to match.”
    The young woman’s escort carefully ducks in the doorway. With his hat removed, he can just barely stand upright without bumping the ceiling. “Afternoon, folks,” he says, and his deep voice makes the glasses vibrate.
    Zeph smiles. “Bernard! How’s every little thing?”
    Bernard nudges the young woman toward the bar. Beside her towering companion, she looks like a midpriced china doll. They each take a stool—Bernard sits sideways to stretch out his massive legs. “This is my new friend Miss Maggie.”
    â€œWelcome to Magruder’s, Miss Maggie. Any new friend of Bernard’s and so forth. So, a glass of the good stuff for Bernard, and for you, miss? Can I get you something? I can make you a Belle Epoque; it’s a cocktail I invented for Rosalind. You’ll think you’re at the Manhattan Beach Hotel.”
    â€œI’ll try it, thank you.”
    As Zeph gets the drinks, Bernard says, “Maggie’s a table girl at Koster’s Music Hall.”
    â€œTable girl, huh? So you sit on their laps and talk ’em into ordering more beer than they should?”
    â€œAnd I sing!” Maggie says indignantly. “Sometimes I sing.”
    â€œShe sings something beautiful,” Bernard says proudly.
    â€œWasn’t criticizing.” Zeph rolls back with the cocktails. “We all gotta make a living.”
    â€œI’m confused,” Maggie says, looking around. “You said Magruder’s, but I thought Magruder’s was the dime museum? I guess I had it wrong?”
    â€œNo, miss, you have it just about right. We prefer ‘curiosity cabinet,’ but dime museum is close enough. That’s upstairs. Couple years back, Doc Timur built this big ol’ boiler contraption, kinda by accident, and he said”—here Zeph