Pulp Fiction, 1931 · page 6 of 68
10-Story Book, July 1931 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is page 4 of a pulp magazine story, containing narrative prose and a small cartoon illustration. The illustration shows a man's surprised face with the caption quoting "Count Omme" objecting to something in a 1931 10-Story Girl magazine. The main text continues a story about two young women—Ann and Kit—who enter a hotel lobby after being dismissed rudely by a man in an automobile. The narrative describes their shabby appearance, their exhaustion, and their conversation about their difficult circumstances, including hunger and homelessness. The story appears to be realistic fiction focusing on working-class struggles during what seems to be the Great Depression era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
4 10-STORY BEGINS ITS 30TH SUCCESSFUL YEAR! * #4] [be “My word!” ejaculates Count Onme, “won’t one of you seventeen gents kindly get away from that new 1931 .10-Story Girl Photo Revue for a minute and let me have another look at that bally picture on page five?” (Continued from page 2) feet and, as the automobile drew up to the curb, started forward. He paused for a second as he passed the girls and, with a disgusted gesture, ordered; “G’wan! Beat it, you... . you street walkers!’ The younger one tugged at the other’s arm. “Let’s go, Ann,” she begged, plain- tively. The older girl shook her head em- Dhatically. =” Nix 2.7. coldt H's warm in there. Wait ’till the big knob twister gets his hoeks on that limmy door ... . he won’t remember us for thinkin’ of the dollar tip he hopes to get. Now . ‘saacs back’s turned... <.. hus- tle!” Inside, a gentle warmth, tinged with the somewhat stagnant odor of tobacco smoke, met them. They loosened their coats, shaking the fine snow particles from the tawdry fur and stamped the caked snow from high heeled shoes. The small entry foyer was deserted. A long, wide, carpeted hall led to the hotel lobby, and, on each side of this “Peacock Alley,’ huge arm chairs and comfortable divans invited temptingly. Half way down this hall, Ann stopped and dropped into an empty seat, tired but not too exhausted to cross her legs care- fully, and arrange her coat to flare open, inviting attention to a well shaped knee peeping forth from below the hem of her brilliantly colored dress. The younger girl slouched down, dumbly. There was a haunted, scared look in the thin but rather pretty face, a face that was not improved by the in- discriminate use of make-up she affected. She was a newcomer in her profession, one could see that readily; one easily dis- couraged, probably already disgusted with the life and not hardened to its erim realities. She did not exhibit her lower limbs— darned runs prevented even had she had the desire to do so. “Buck up, Kit,” Ann said. “We gotta talk and pretend we b’long here or we'll get the bum’s rush out!” “But... . Um tired.» Gawd, I wisht was home!” “Year Alone, I suppose?” “You're darned right.” “How you goin’ to eat? Aw.... you make me sick!” “And these Johns make me sick! Hag- gle and bargain and tryin’ to get a few free paws .... feelin’ you over as if they was buyin’ a dog! Gawd, I hate ’em!” “Well, kiddo .... you shoulda thought of that before now... . here comes a likely prospect .... perk up!” — Ann turned and smiled slightly, ex-— pertly, as a well dressed man of middle age strolled past. The younger girl watched disgustedly, but also had to smile as the intended prey, unconscious of their scrutiny, continued on. “Stung!” Kit whispered. “You can’t make ’em here .... too high toned!” “Can't, eh? You just wait. Did I tell you of the John I got here last week?” She turned an animated face toward her companion: =—Fle 22.35" EORNICOOOKS.EO© mn