Pulp Fiction, 1920 · page 211 of 232
Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 211: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1920. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ODD AND BEAUTIFUL. _ ago make now but a closed book, sealed and getting dusty—like the moah late Spanish Wah seemed to get almost immediately aftuh I’d been given my commission. I re- peat; wah is not why!” He paused to clear a throat“unaccustomed to public speaking; never before had he felt it his duty to talk so forcibly. ‘ We folks of Callabee object to being told wien to cel:brate and what to celebrate. prefuh to pick out ouh own holidays. That’s why, ladies and gen’lemen, we rise to rebel!” An approving hum cemented the colonel’s opinion into a fact. ‘“‘ And we entuhtain only respect and ad- muhration fo’ the great Washin’ton and fo’ the equally famous Greene; we have named upwahds of a dozen towns in No’th Cah’- lina aftuh Mistuh Greene. Ouh complaint t’-day is based on puhsonal grounds only. Heah in Callabee we’ve got the best town in the State—in the United States—yes, and on tbe face of the entiah globe, I mod- estly decla’h! ““'Why, then, should we have ouh holi- days picked out of the calendah by the No’th? I assuht that we’ve got the best people heah in Callabee, too—” he went on, his voice rising in their defense. ‘‘ The best people alive! Why shouldn’t we be? We've got no troubles—don’t let ouhselves have ‘em. Having no troubles, we keep gentle; - having no troubles, we stay kind and loving to’ahds each othuh— Bang! A wisp of blue smoke curled up from the shoulder-high hedge to the west of the yard. ‘ The colonel tog aff his Stetson; sunlight came through a tiny, round hole «drilled in the rim. “This may hint at one small trouble I had inadvuhtently ovuhlooked,” he said. “Tt is only that old devil next doah, so’th, @py friends; be calm.” The assemblage was perfectly calm. Some hadn’t even bothered to turn their heads. Everybody knew the meaning of that gun-shot—nothing unusual in it, aid they didn’t mind. Only one man asked, quite superficially: “Homer Palley, wasn’t it? The old fel- luh who—” Digitized by Go ogle We- - onel. 493 “Who hasn’t beauty enough in him to’ve evuh raised a hedge round his dwelling, suh. Yes, suh. Reckon that’s why he shot from — behind mine.” Colonel Blalock replaced his pinked hat —to remove it quickly once more that he might wipe his brow; yet the cold kind of sweat had not been there. “ Hot, colonel?” , “Right, wahm, suh. But it doesn’t get neah so wahm down heah as it does this time of yeah up No’th, suh.” No dissenting voice was heard. The good folk of Callabee would have solemnly sworn their Carolina hills either cooler or warmer than similar altitudes northward, whichever comparison the season of year might re- quire. “To go back to my point befo’ this mild distuhbance ”—the colonel pursued—“ not one of us heah t’-day would lift a finguh to hahm a dog.” Eying the hedge, he raised both his thin hands benignly. “ We of Cal- labee, an old-fashioned, law-abiding and God-fearing people, gathuh heah now to obsuhve ouh semiannual Centennial—and not fo’ the Fo’th of July. Callabee was founded one hund’ed and fifty yeahs ago t’-day by pioneahs on the edges of civilization, and we haven’t changed a mite since.” He stopped for a sip of water. ‘““ Looks like good white co’n in that glass,”’ said some one ’way back, wistfully. “It is not, howevuh, suh,” said the col- ‘““The So’th has beaten the No’th in proh’bition, same as in ev’rything else. Down heah we’ve stamped the evil entiahly out.” He caught the sound of a happy chuckle —smothered, as if it hadn’t meant to be heard. “ All except the liquoh what yo’-all make and bring into town, Tom Palley,” the colonel qualified. His old eyes were searching for the author of that chuckle, who now stepped free of the crowd and obligingly into full view. An up-standing, clear-featured boy he was; in his middle twenties, perhaps, and a sort of military ruggedness written on him. ‘‘ Haven't yo’-all got bettuh sense than to laugh on a day like this, Tom Palley?” the THE O 410 INGE STTY Ouh city of * DOO Q CO