Judge — June 9, 1923 — page 22: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“That life-saver has saved over three hundred peopt!e.” “What is he—a bootlegger?” The Perils of Print by Walter Prichard Eaton I HAD Nor seen my old friend Allen, the book reviewer, for two or three years, and when I met him recently Tv turbed at the change in his appea thin, flushed, evidently worr es, once so frank and= merry avoided mine. He seemed the prey of some consuming fear. “Come,” I said, getting him at last into a quiet corner of the club, “what's the er with you, old Sec What's your so-called min« 1 violently, and then sank abjectly back. “I—I'm afraid,” he whis- ed. “Afraid of what?” I dem “Of my subconsciouness “Of your what?” “My man, aren’t you afraid of yo “T didn’t know I had on aid I. “Didn’t know you had one?” he gasped. “Don’t a re modern fiction? “Sure,” I replied cheerfully. set of O. Henry the other day— “No, no, no!” whimpered poor Allen, “I don’t mean that! I mean ly modern, real literature written since the great disco of Dr. Freud.” “And what did he discover?” I de- manded blandly. Allen sat up, flushed with excitement. nded. said he. xd God, subconsciousness. Got a “He discovered the subconscions self!” he cried. “He discovered the Oedipus complex “The what?” said I, “Never mind—you've got one, and you thank your lucky star you don’t “How did that architect become so poor?” know it; and the suppressed desire, and—" “L know what a suppressed desire is,” said I. “I want a drink right now.” Allen ignored the interruption, and—and-—and_ Ser!” he finished, voice high and shrill. I was really getting worried about him, but I endeavored to keep calm. “T sort of n idea Adam and E discovered that, with the help of the Serpent, not Dr. Freud,” said I. his ‘0, no, no! he whimpered “Adam and Eve knew nothing sex. How could they? ‘They had no parents and no married neighbors.” “Well, now [ really don’t see “OF course you don't. You haven't read Ben Hechi and Joseph Hergesheimer and Floyd Dell and H. D. Lawrence and nes Joyce and—oh, scores of the at Moderns. You can’t really know sex till you've experienced an Ovdipus complex’ and. watched your neighbor's wife picking larkspur in a large floppy garden hat, and—and realized that all women want to—” “See hh Allen,” T interrupted him watched my neighbor's kspur in a large floppy tall. She picking bouquet for her husband, Likewise he adores nks evidently to the ing stopped with ve wife picking Id nd in no hi em to make 4 whom she her. I don't. Th fact that my fiction O. Henry, [can still look at my mother without blushing, and watch the high school girls’ basket-ball team without feeling like Actwon, Probably — your ling is so modern you don’t know who he was. We'll let that pass. What I want to know is, will you come hon with me for a few days and play: gol He shudde “T dreamed last n I did a hole in one,” he whispe “That means I have a suppressed desire (Continued on page 27) rm “He built a house for himself.” 20