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If there help wanted were flies aboard they would be buzzing all around this man. With a "humph" of disgust he turns away. A bill in, 25c back. Ding, time for another to sit. help wanted This time a woman boards. Close beside her is a small boy, no more than six years old. Blond and blue- eyed, the both help wanted of them and "where is the father," he thinks to himself. They take a seat near the front, away from the two individuals in back. Mother could smell them even before she took a breath. "Mustn't be bothered with men like these," she tells herself. Passing the next stop, the driver signals a left turn. Heading now away from the country and towards the center of a town, the scenery changes. Trees disappear and are replaced by commercial buildings. Hills and valleys become automobiles and bicycles. The mechanical noise of the conveyance is now accompanied by horns honking and occasional sirens; yet his thoughts cannot be drowned out. "Yes, still a shit hole."
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