In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

'06 · David OhIe On Wednesday, Hunyadi Janos, vendor of pharmaceuticals, appeared at noon on the corner of 10th and Dockery. In his hand-made cart there was stacked in place a fair selection of the best available toilet goods. As was his custom, he annunciated his inventory through a cone ofnewsprint. "I gotDr. Snow's Amber Petroleum Jelly, I got pure distilled witch hazel, Rosedale Cold Cream, benzoin, glycerine and lithia compounds. I got pearly pink tooth powder, talcum by the sack. I got it all. I got little Puppy Cakes, Mandheling Syrup, Swift's White Ribbon Floating Soap. You name it, I got it." An elderly and loquacious neutrodyne, carrying a little hand-satchel, asked Janos the direction to Thomas Jefferson Park, saying she wanted to go there to hear the "lovely music of the Chatterjee Brothers," a shorthorn trio. Janos enjoyed a reputation for gallantry and he was very courteous and patient in explaining the route to the park, and the old neut was mightily grateful. She said to Janos, after fumbling in her satchel, "Take an old neutrodyne's blessing for your kindness and keep this Tampa nugget to remember me by," placing a fat, fine looking cigar in his palm. "A real Perfecto," said Janos, and was puffing delightedly when the neutrodyne wandered off. As it happened, a Sergeant-in-Charge came by with an Italian in custody, and at a sudden report, it was thought a gun had been fired. The Italian, accustomed to firearm emergencies, threw himself onto the banquette, as did the Sergeant, and both lay still, hoping they were out of danger. A doormanthen emerged from avestibule carrying a glass ofwater and poured it on theblazing stump ofJanos's nose, atthe same time squashing theremnant of the trick cigar with the heel of an ox-blood cordovan. "Poor Janos," the doorman said, "When it comes to neutrodynes, kindness is often rewarded with novelty, isn't it?" A railcar halted near the scene and a motorman, from its window, said laconically, "She took you fer a lemon, Hunyadi." Striped adders are so thick in a pasture on my farm that they have taken to milking my goats. I found, last evening, that every one in the herd of nine had been milked. I watched the pasture today and every hour or two I saw a striped adder crawl up a goat's leg and begin to milk the animal. There is a sweetish odor aloft when the adders are active. They are quite good in their art, I believe. Those goats never grin that way when I palm the teats. Such is life. I was in the City recently, shopping at Saposcats, a national market, for these The Missouri Review · 79 items: lighter pine for the belly stove, bricks of D-meat, a tin of Omnicoli Vitalis, some carbolic for killing adders, fresh lumpia, skrada-kaka, wooden matches, monk's bread, sauce diablo, neut repellent, boudin, hag roe, and a bottle of Nunn's Oil. As I crossed Gravesend Avenue I saw a neutrodyne dragged to death by a railcar. Jumping from the car in a fit of haste he caught his coat on a protruding piece of iron and was dragged over a distance of one hundred feet before the motorman was attracted by the gasps of pedestrians and the car stopped. Again, that sweetish odor quickened the air, as though a stinkbug had been squashed. I had an unusual experience while fishing horned pout in Pincenez Brook yesterday afternoon. In an extra effort to throw the line far into the stream, where the grandest pout lie, I slung it high into the air, with the result that the hooks, sinkers, and line became lodged in a tree thirty-five feet tall. I climbed the tree to release the tackle. When I reached the limb on which the line was entangled I found a young jayhawkfastto the hook. The barb had penetrated the occiput and lay in the brain. The hawk had gone for my grub in error and had suffered the price. C'est la vie. Xmas is a time of year I much look forward to. I have a little...

pdf

Share