Grace of Bigelow Street
Crossing a black cat is bad luck...A black cat lay on the porch of 13 Bigelow Street. She yawned and stretched, then looked at the men milling about in the street. Some were armed with bats, chains, and tire irons. All were clearly spoiling for a fight. After another yawn, the cat got up and wandered into the house. She found Grace Bigelow in her sewing room and mewed at her. “Trouble brewing, eh,” Grace said, smiling at the cat, “Guess I should have a loo...
