from The San Franciscan March 1, 1885:
A woman passed along Kearny street, one afternoon this week, who attracted a good deal of attention.
People did not turn and look after her because she was very beautiful, famous for her genius, notorious for her misdeeds, or because she was doing anything unusual. She was just walking along on the proper side of the pavement, like the rest of the people. Her face was far from handsome, and not by any means bright. She was past the age when men compete for the favor of her attention. Yet this unknown, middle-aged, commonplace woman drew as much notice as if she had been a great actress or criminal.
She wore trowsers.
(Joseph T. Goodman, from The Sagebrush Anthology: Literature from the Silver Age of the Old West)
A woman passed along Kearny street, one afternoon this week, who attracted a good deal of attention.
People did not turn and look after her because she was very beautiful, famous for her genius, notorious for her misdeeds, or because she was doing anything unusual. She was just walking along on the proper side of the pavement, like the rest of the people. Her face was far from handsome, and not by any means bright. She was past the age when men compete for the favor of her attention. Yet this unknown, middle-aged, commonplace woman drew as much notice as if she had been a great actress or criminal.
She wore trowsers.
(Joseph T. Goodman, from The Sagebrush Anthology: Literature from the Silver Age of the Old West)
