In Long Island City, N. Y., across the square from a courthouse where an adultress and a corset salesman were on trial for murder, a small man appeared at dawn trundling a wheelbarrow full of lumber. He selected a site, began sawing, hammering, whistling.
Asked a policeman: "Say. what the . . .?"
"Everything 0. K.," cried the small man, dragging out a scrawled piece of paper, "me got what you call permit."
The scrawl explained that the small man was, in consideration of $100 paid, entitled to sell "hot dogs" and soft drinks...