Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 17, 1924 — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

182 luck. I’ve got all the lucky toes on all four feet. I hog it all.” “T see,” Everett mused. ‘‘ Lay a match on his back and let’s see if he tells me it is time to go home.” Tuck struck the match. “Now, watch him!” he said. “If he comes out and sticks his head in the direc- tion your home is, that means that you mosey along.” In a moment four feet began to squirm upon the porch floor and the head of the terrapin slowly emerged. Instantly he turned with his head pointing in the direc- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. tion that Everett must take to go to his home. There was a shout of laughter. Everett went to a room, changed his clothes and ap- peared upon the porch. Lois stood beside him like a slim, athletic boy in her wet bathing suit, to tell him good-by. The light shined from the door upon her. “ Good night!” he said reluctantly. “TI hope some day the terrapin toes will bring me better luck,” ‘““Who knows?” Lois smiled. ‘‘ Maybe - instead of going, you will be commanded to stay.” TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK Le} Le} U Le} HIT TH’ SUNSHINE you are on your uppers, Hit th’ sunshine. When there’s yellow in your scuppers, Hit th’ sunshine. When y’u very seldom grin, an’ you seem to feel all in, An’ your bending backbone shrivels till it shrinks your puddy chin, An’ y’u’ve lost your cunning charm, and you don’t know how to win, Hit th’ sunshine. When y’u feel yourself a slippin’, Hit th’ sunshine. An’ things are torn an’ rippin’, Hit th’ sunshine. * Just clench your feeble fist, give your grit a trigger twist, An’ with your on’ry conscience, turn a high brow humorist, An’ remember that all trouble is a moody mental mist, Hit th’ sunshine. When life is rich an’ rosy, Hit th’ sunshine. An’ y’u’re feelin’ coy an’ cozy, Hit th’ sunshine. Folks that are worth while, all wear a catchin’ smile, This spreads th’ laughin’ habit in a very little while, An’ they disinfect their neighborhood of evrything that’s vile. ’Cause—they hit th’ sunshine. Clem Yore. EO) 00) AMG S (C@