Pulp Fiction, 1923 · page 62 of 196
Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 6, 1923 — page 62: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1923. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
844 here at a time, say for a month. Twenty more the next month. July and August. No punishments; time’s too short. If a lad is cruel, or filthy, or in any way a real menace to others, warn him. If he repeats, ship him back F. O. B. and replace with another one. And if I ever heard of my overseer teaching them any fool games out of books, I’d sack him! Have plenty of haseballs and bats and a football or two, for those who wish them; but no drills, set- ups, lessons; nothing but fifty acres of God’s country, a clean bed, lots to eat and their own ideas as to play. Not so much as a book, even! I wouldn’t make ’em go to church, as far as I am concerned. But they can if they want to, or if their folks insist. What do you think of such a plan?” He seemed to await almost anxiously the Slapper’s views. ‘“ Hot dog, mister! liked myself.” “Well, that’s what I aim to do. Only, it is such a drop in the bucket! Millions of kids, and I can only handle a couple of score for two months! But it is a beginning. Other men, younger and richer, may hear about it and carry it on in a bigger way. Of course I haven’t really figured it all out vet. But this isn’t to be a sanitarium; I haven’t the means to run one. Just ordi- nary, healthy boys. All creeds, races, colors. They have got to get on together when they grow up and run the country after we have gone; let ’em get used to it early. How would vou like the job of overseeing such a crew?” The Slapper blinked. “Id be a hell of a guy to be trusted with a lot of kids!” he decided promptly. ‘Their folks would throw fits!” ‘“Vou’ve got every young one who can toddle alone running after you in this vil- lage,” the major argued. ‘“ And I haven't heard any mothers worrying about it, either!” ‘Well, there ain’t much mischief they can get into here. And I was only killing time.” ‘A pretty fair way to judge a man is to take note of how he kills time,” Hendrie said. ‘ Anyhow, you are the one I want. I won’t have anybody who is trying to teach That’s what I’d have ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘em book stuff, and drilling ’em like a reform school battalion, or anything like that. So long as they don’t set fire to barns or tram- ple down gardens or run cows to death or maim one another, let ’em alone, say I! And the man who could enter into my plans would be worth to me—well, I don’t know, say a thousand dollars for the season. He’d have the rest of the year to himself, and the house to live in if he wanted to.” Hendrie added: ‘‘ Of course, I’d have to have a live housekeeper. Wouldn’t do to get an elderly woman; they’d drive her to drink in no time. Some sensible girl who could cook, and who would get on weil with boys. Wonder how that Letty girl at the place you board would do? She anything of a cook?” The Slapper started violently. ‘“Who?e Her? Mister, she’d make the Ritz look like a night lunch! And the kids couldn’t help liking her.” The major meditated. ‘You think well of her, I take it?” The Slapper sighed, and admitted that he did. ‘Well, before you definitely decide to leave us, give my idea the low down. I don’t know why you are here, and I don’t care. But I do know that I could trust a bunch of young truants in your hands and not feel I’d committed myself to infant damnation.” ‘“He’s a good old guy,” reflected the Slapper as he trudged back to the Tuckers. ‘““'Wise, too. Got just my idea of how to handle kids!” He told Letty about it, guardedly, not mentioning the suggestion of herself as housekeeper. ‘““T guess you could do it all right,” she admitted. ‘ Our village boys would set fire to the church if you asked them to! And it—it would give you something to do here, wouldn’t it? Something that would be worth while.” His quiet evenings with Letty were not as pleasant as they had been. He realized that she expected something he dared not give. She was not the sort to continue to make the advances; she had kissed him, frankly and innocently, that first time; but never since. And it was plain that she was both COMmMicloOoe ©