Indianapolis Times, Volume 48, Number 6, Indianapolis, Marion County, 18 March 1936 — Page 19

MAKCH 18,1036

Today's Short Story • PAPPY By Charles M'Guirk

PAPPY VENABLE went carefully through the magazine. It was a garish book with a girl's head and shoulders smiling out from a background that had started out to be red and then blushed, rhere was nothing to offend the most sensitively religious soul on that cover

but it upset him. It was red. and red had the same effect on Pappy as it has on a bull. He turned the pages and came smack upon a full-page picture of another girl who had little or nothing on. Spelling out the caption with difficulty, he learned that she was a blond international heroine of the movies and that she was playing a dance hall girl in a story of San Francisco in the days of forty-nine. Pappy kept turning the pages, and as he turned them, his indignation rose. Nevertheless, it didn’t hurry him. Never, since he had gotten himself into a burlicue house down in Lenoxville, the big coal town 15 miles away, had he ever seen such hussies. M M M WHY, he thought, there wasn't enough coverin’ on 20 wimmen in that magazine to cover --a young squirrel 1 Having determined which, he allowed his wrath to boil up and spill over Lessinda, his wife. He opened this act by flinging the magazine into a corner of the cabin. It flew over a pallet on the floor, which he and Lessinda occupied at night, and it banged against bare log walls. It brought four tow-heads, ranging in age from 4 to 11, to a startled and expectant attention. Three of these, the younger three, were boys. The fourth, the 11-year-old, was a girl. The heads popped up like a row of dewy daisies because the book whirling through the air had wakened them. “A nice thing fer a gal to be alookin’ at!” Pappy said, disgustedly, and sent a stream of tobacco in the very middle of the crude fireplace, missing Lessinda by about two inches. a u n “T ESSIE. I won't have you aidin’ JL 4 and abbetin’ Millie in this yere wickedness. What kind of thoughts is them pictures goin’ to raise in the mind of a young girl. Now, you hear me! If I ever ketch another sich an instrument of the devil in this yere house, I'm a goin’ to whup Millie and I'm a goin' to whup you! You hear me?” Lessinda didn’t answer. She was a frail wisp of a woman, a typical mountaineer's wife. She was round-shouldered and sad-faced and unutterably weary from a lifetime of work and of bearing five children. Her round shoulders got rounder now as she bent over the stove. She did not look at Pappy. She was tired of lookin’ at Pappy, especially when he was in one of his tantrums. He’d be all right when he’d had a touch of co'n but, meanwhile—” ‘‘You hear me, Lessinda?” he repeated. “You answer me!” Lessinda turned slowly and looked at him. She saw a tall, thin, slouching man with three days’ hair on his face, a hickory shirt and a pair of pants so short that ♦ hey hit him four inches above the ankle. His hair, turning gray, was tousled. He was pale. His eyes were red-rimmed. His nose was hooked and his lips were a straight line to make a hard, cruel mouth. He was 40. He looked 58, worn with a lifetime of doing nothing. n n u *‘T HEARN ye.” She admitted. A “Millie don't mean no harm. There can’t be no harm in them magazines. They sell them all over town down in Spingairn.” “They’re an abomination!" Pappy thundered. “Where'd you put that corn?” “It's thar under the table—where you put it last night.” She told him. And there was scorn in her voice. “Don’t you take that tone to me. woman.” He threatened. ‘‘You. Bootch, hustle out and git some kindlin. You, Sarah, go see about the cow. She’s a mooin’ to be milked. Whar's Millie?” "She’s up and gone to work—this t\v) hours.” Lessinda told him sullenly: “And Sarah’s too young to milk. Why'n’t you milk this mawnln’?” ’’l’m a goin' to town.” He told her. "Got business!” mam HER sniff was soft but fairly audible and he glared at the back which was again turned angularly toward him. He dressed with exceeding care—for him, running his dirty hands through his hair until he had into a semblance of tidiness. ducked over a pail of water ana flowed some of it to come upon his face. Then he vigorously removed it with a tow'el which had seen much service. He sat himself down and ate some corn pone, after taking a lusty swig of the corn whisky he had distilled himself. He lingered not over his breakfast and. when he had finished it, he donned a ragged coat, a pair of scuffed shoes, a dilapidated hat and a new.chaw of tobacco and left the cabin without a word. The cabin rested upon a hillside and from its front and only door he could look down upon Spingairn, the milltown about a mile below him. He looked at the mill and saw smoke ascending from it. He could see people moving briskly about the mill yard. And the sight of that activity with the plaintive mooing of the cow-, begging to be milked, annoyed him. m m m THINGS weren’t like they used to be. Why, only 10 years ago, he could look down into the valley and see nothing but a straggling, starving village on which the wooded hills encroached. Why, from that spot a hundred feet up he had lain in wait until he had killed Jem Huddleston from ambush, drappin’ him with a rifle at 200 yards. A darn good shot! That mil’ didn’t mean no good to Spingairn and the country surrounding It. It had brought some money to the people it employed. But it had also brought movin’ pictures and dance halls and social workers who stuck their snoopin’ noses into a man’s affairs. And truant officers who wanted to ’’now why the children weren't in school. But what he resented most about the “improvements” the mill had brought with it was the attitude of the new generation. • mm The new generation didn’t pay any attention to its parents unless you whupped it good. And when you Whupped it good, it just took

the whuppin’ and hated you with its eyes. Like Millie hated him ever since she had gone to work. He suspected that Millie had the suport of Lessinda. ’Course, Lessinda haled him. But it weren't fair for her to pass on that hate to her child. If she did. He was pretty sure she did, but he oiuldn't prove it. You couldn’t prove things like that on a woman. Women were too slick for a man, some ways. He felt himself growing bitter and he had half a mind to turn back into the cabin and thump Lessinda once, just for luck. But he looked up at the sun and saw that it was nigh on to 11 o'clock. He’d have to be a-movin’. He really didn't have much business down in Spingairn. All he had to do was to report to the probation officer and explain that hs was doin’ all right and keepin’ out of fights and he’d be workin’ at the mill right now only he’d had a bad attack of rheumatism. If the officer didn’t believe him, he could go up and ask Lessinda. m n m “■yOU got vour knife on you, JL Clyde?” The probation officer asked. “No, I hain’t,” Pappy told him virtuously. “And I hain’t got no gun on me nuther. There both up to the cabin. I don’t aim to get into trouble.” It had been a mistake to slash Herve Handley a year ago in that brawl. What he should have done was to wait and git him like he got Jem Huddleston. They never had proved that killin’ on him. He thought of Millie, his 19-year-old daughter, as he left the Courthouse. He thought of her bitterly. She was to blame for his havin’ to come way down here every week and report. If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have had to quarrel with Herve Hancfley. It was because of her he had quarreled. He had told Herve if he didn’t stop seein’ Millie, he’d cut his heart out. And Herve had told him he couldn’t. He had to pass the mill on his way up to the pool hall where he figured to drop in and play a game while he had a drink or two. The mill hands were streaming out of the gate, groups of girls laughing and talking and young fellows behind him, ogling them and showing off. > ana AND he stiffened suddenly, as a bird dog stiffens at sight of game because his eyes fell on a man and a woman. The man was bending over looking into the girl’s face as he talked. He was Herve Handley. The girl was dark, blue-eyed and pretty. You’d never think she was a Venable. She didn’t look like him and she didn’t look like Lessinda. She was purty but she was bold. It was Millie. Hadn't he told her to stay away from that dog? Hadn’t he— He started toward them, but then he thought of the law and the unpleasant four months he had spent in jail for stickin’ Herve the last time. He thought of a better way. He turned and walked away from there. The two had not seen him. He spent the day brooding about how children didn’t respect their parents no more. Why, Millie was defying him right before his eyes. Right before the eyes of Spingairn. Makin’ him a laughin’ stock. Well, he’d show her. “Honor thy father and thy mother,” the Bible said. He’d write that on Millie's back with a hickory. At nightfall he made the climb to the cabin, cutting a large hickory switch on his way up.- When Millie arrived he was waiting for her. mum “IV/fILLIE.” he said, “I saw you IVI today. You was with that Herve Handley after I told you not to see him no more. I suppose you're carryin’ on with him. Es-n he was a man I'd git out my gun and moke him marry you. But he ain't. So 1 m goin’ to whup you and I'm goin to kill him.” “No. you ain’t, Pappy,” Millie told him and her voice was low and shaking. “You ain’t goin’ to do no sich thing. You ain’t goin’ to bully me like you bullied Maw all these years. You ain’t goin’ to make no mule outta me like you made outta her. You ain't goin’ to tell me w’hat to do because you never supported me. You never did nothin’ for us kids. Everything we got Maw had from her family or worked to git. Now. I’m workin' to git what I want and you ain't goin' to interfere.” mum SHE stood there, her eyes blazing. her body shaking and the four little tow heads gathered around, their eyes bulging. "Don’t say such things!” Lessinda begged. “Don't carry on so! He's your pappy!” “That’s his fault and yourn—not mine!” Millie shrilled. "But he ain't goin' to put his hand on me.” “Why. you strumpet!” Pappy Venable laughed grimly and brought the thick hickory down across Millie’s shoulders. Millie staggered. And straightened. Her hand swung behind her and came forward with a revolver in it. She shot three times as fast as she could pull the trigger. Pappy Venable wasn't surprised. Pappy Venable was beyond surprise. Pappv Venable was dead. (THE END) SAFETY WEEK TO BE OBSERVED AT SCHOOL Parents to Join in Program at Crispos Attucks Tomorrow. Mothers and fathers are to compete in an atendance contest tomorrow night at Crispus Attucks High School as a feature of “Safety Week." Sergt. Edward Moore of the Indianapolis Police Department and E. L. Jbhnson, attorney, are to speak. A progrem of music and pictures is to be presented. A safety forum is to be conducted Friday in the auditorium by Sergt. Moore on accident prevention. The school safety committee includes Marimon Hansbery, Julian D. Coleman, Mrs. Blanche Grossen, Henry Murray. Edward Gaillard, Harry Raddiffe, Mr. J. W. Harris, Mrs. Mary Southern, president of the Parent-Teacher Association, and Bussell A. Lane, principal;,

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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THE TARZAN TWINS

As the sinister figure approached, Doc was in a quandary. If they attacked the savage, he would cry the alarm. It was Dick who saved the situation—temporarily. At his suggestion, the three runaways quickly concealed their weapons, though keeping them within reach.

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THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Now they squatted in front of the cache, assuming an innocent air, as if they were watching the village fete. The approaching cannibal was almost upon them before he perceived them. His surprise was evident, for he stopped suddenly with an angry gnnt.

—By Ahern

“Why are you not in your hut?” he demanded in a hoarse whisper. The three recognized him simultaneously, and they knew why he had come, and why he carried the murderous war-club. It was Intamo, the witch-doctor, who had vowed to kill the Tarzan Twins by his own hands!

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

“Which is the white boy witch-doctor?” he asked sternly. Doc knew Intamo had a special grudge against him, but he did not hesitate to accept responsibility. “I am he. What do you want of me?” Intamo did not answer. Instead, he leaped forward with his raised bludgeon.

COMIC PAG*

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Hamlin

—By Martin