Transcribe
Translate
Fantasy Digest, v. 1, issue 6, August-September 1939
10
More information
digital collection
archival collection guide
transcription tips
Hours passed. We compared Texas and Maryland weather; discussed the World's Fair; talked of science fiction--though the two who didn't go along with the rest weren't ardent fans--; spoke of music; radio; automobiles; and a thousand and one other topics. After all, we had three or four hours in which to do it. Midnight passed quickly like a silent ghost; far away the clock in the tower boomed out the hollow pronouncement that it was one A.M. Still no return. One of the two that remained remembered that he had to drive all of the next day, and that sleep wouldn't be a bad idea. No sooner said than done! To bed, and if the rest came before it was light, they would be let in. Well, they finally did come--two A.M., and frankly, sooner than I'd expected. After all, I know how hard it is to break away from Miss Stone's house myself. By that time, the pangs of sleep were gripping me, so that I knew no more until morning. Oddly enough, it grew light the next day--though during the thunderstorm which was raging all the night before, since the time they had arrived, I had wondered if it ever would grow light once more. We had breakfast, Dale immediately throwing a wet blanket on proceedings by announcing that he liked a big breakfast, including such things as fried potatoes. After that none of us were hungry, save Highlands Hart. There was little time for more. All signed my STEPHAN booklet; Su-llivan snapped my picturem to place in his Rogue's Gallory; J. Pohl & I agreed on Wagner and almost came to blows over[?]; I had one awful glimpse of their car---magazines, magazines, everywhere, and crowning all the Paul original--and it was a fond farewell. Eight fans in two days--and previously I had not seen a one! At that time, of course, I little know that in another two weeks I would meet Willis Conover, which historic occasion has been chronicled for another magazine; and as I type this (August 25), Jack Speer and MIl-ton Rothman are due in forty eight hours. John Mason is coming down from Canada sometime soon, and probably others will drop in. But, re-member this always--there's an extra bed at 303 Dryan Place. END
Saving...
prev
next
Hours passed. We compared Texas and Maryland weather; discussed the World's Fair; talked of science fiction--though the two who didn't go along with the rest weren't ardent fans--; spoke of music; radio; automobiles; and a thousand and one other topics. After all, we had three or four hours in which to do it. Midnight passed quickly like a silent ghost; far away the clock in the tower boomed out the hollow pronouncement that it was one A.M. Still no return. One of the two that remained remembered that he had to drive all of the next day, and that sleep wouldn't be a bad idea. No sooner said than done! To bed, and if the rest came before it was light, they would be let in. Well, they finally did come--two A.M., and frankly, sooner than I'd expected. After all, I know how hard it is to break away from Miss Stone's house myself. By that time, the pangs of sleep were gripping me, so that I knew no more until morning. Oddly enough, it grew light the next day--though during the thunderstorm which was raging all the night before, since the time they had arrived, I had wondered if it ever would grow light once more. We had breakfast, Dale immediately throwing a wet blanket on proceedings by announcing that he liked a big breakfast, including such things as fried potatoes. After that none of us were hungry, save Highlands Hart. There was little time for more. All signed my STEPHAN booklet; Su-llivan snapped my picturem to place in his Rogue's Gallory; J. Pohl & I agreed on Wagner and almost came to blows over[?]; I had one awful glimpse of their car---magazines, magazines, everywhere, and crowning all the Paul original--and it was a fond farewell. Eight fans in two days--and previously I had not seen a one! At that time, of course, I little know that in another two weeks I would meet Willis Conover, which historic occasion has been chronicled for another magazine; and as I type this (August 25), Jack Speer and MIl-ton Rothman are due in forty eight hours. John Mason is coming down from Canada sometime soon, and probably others will drop in. But, re-member this always--there's an extra bed at 303 Dryan Place. END
Hevelin Fanzines
sidebar
