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Tale of the 'Evans, Fall 1944
Page 2
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page 2 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- I LIKED IT. "Did you hear that Mrs. Murphy's little boy was run over by a steam roller?" "Hivin ferbid! And phwat did yese do wit' th' lad?" "We took him hime, but no one was there, so we slid him under the front door." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- EUREKA! I FINALLY GOT IT! I was most dismayed and ashamed when the June BONFIRE cam along, with its listing of members past and present, and the status of their financial standing with the NFFF. There, in large letters of flaming brightness, was the horrid word DUES after the name of our ignoble and disillustrious Vice President. Came thos Michicon and came the Heathen Chinee. Hardly had he turned the corner into our street when my strident tones were calling out to him, "Hey, is you is or is you ain't a'goin' to pay them thar dues?" Night and day I hounded him, until the night before he left. Came one of the poker sessions, and Tucker won. I collected his dues, which he finally and reluctantly disgorged out of his nefarious winnings. I was, at long last, successful in again making him an honest member (more or less) of the organization of which he is second high official. Justice had finally triumphed! All was well with the..... HORRID AFTERTHOUGHT! Just as I finish typing the above, there is a strange clicking of the wheels of memory and awareness and it suddenly dawns on me that I have been had again -- but good! I was the guy who lost in that poker game. It was MY money with which Tucker paid his dues. Oh, whoa is me! ----------------------------------------------------------------- I LIKED THIS ONE, TOO. An Eastern University research worked has just completed her long and thorough examination in the real meanings of the various letters used to designate degrees given to scholars. Her findings on M.D., D.D., and L.L.D. are especially interesting. They mean, so she discovered, Mairzy Doats, Doazy Doats, and Liddle Lamzy Divie. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- THOSE CHIDISH STORIES I have been greatly intrigues by the stories written by various Fen in their childhood days, and am sorry that I do not have my first effort to print, but that was destroyed many aeons agone. However, I did run across and article about Space Flight that was written some eighteen years ago, when Ashley and I belonged to a Scribblers' Club here in Battle Creek. We were asked to bring in an article written for a Trade Journal (we were practicing various types of writing). I am going to inflict it on your poor suckers in this issue. (And I really don't think it's TOO bad, either.) However, it is too bad I haven't that first masterpiece. As I recall, it was about the Spanish American War (does THAT date me!) and there was a terrific battle in which "all the officers were killed except a lieutenant and two privates". Oi, Oi, Oi! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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page 2 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- I LIKED IT. "Did you hear that Mrs. Murphy's little boy was run over by a steam roller?" "Hivin ferbid! And phwat did yese do wit' th' lad?" "We took him hime, but no one was there, so we slid him under the front door." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- EUREKA! I FINALLY GOT IT! I was most dismayed and ashamed when the June BONFIRE cam along, with its listing of members past and present, and the status of their financial standing with the NFFF. There, in large letters of flaming brightness, was the horrid word DUES after the name of our ignoble and disillustrious Vice President. Came thos Michicon and came the Heathen Chinee. Hardly had he turned the corner into our street when my strident tones were calling out to him, "Hey, is you is or is you ain't a'goin' to pay them thar dues?" Night and day I hounded him, until the night before he left. Came one of the poker sessions, and Tucker won. I collected his dues, which he finally and reluctantly disgorged out of his nefarious winnings. I was, at long last, successful in again making him an honest member (more or less) of the organization of which he is second high official. Justice had finally triumphed! All was well with the..... HORRID AFTERTHOUGHT! Just as I finish typing the above, there is a strange clicking of the wheels of memory and awareness and it suddenly dawns on me that I have been had again -- but good! I was the guy who lost in that poker game. It was MY money with which Tucker paid his dues. Oh, whoa is me! ----------------------------------------------------------------- I LIKED THIS ONE, TOO. An Eastern University research worked has just completed her long and thorough examination in the real meanings of the various letters used to designate degrees given to scholars. Her findings on M.D., D.D., and L.L.D. are especially interesting. They mean, so she discovered, Mairzy Doats, Doazy Doats, and Liddle Lamzy Divie. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- THOSE CHIDISH STORIES I have been greatly intrigues by the stories written by various Fen in their childhood days, and am sorry that I do not have my first effort to print, but that was destroyed many aeons agone. However, I did run across and article about Space Flight that was written some eighteen years ago, when Ashley and I belonged to a Scribblers' Club here in Battle Creek. We were asked to bring in an article written for a Trade Journal (we were practicing various types of writing). I am going to inflict it on your poor suckers in this issue. (And I really don't think it's TOO bad, either.) However, it is too bad I haven't that first masterpiece. As I recall, it was about the Spanish American War (does THAT date me!) and there was a terrific battle in which "all the officers were killed except a lieutenant and two privates". Oi, Oi, Oi! ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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