DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Phantagraph, v. 8, issue 3, whole 32, August 1940

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Phantagraph, v. 8, issue 3, whole 32, August 1940

Page 8

The Phantagraph  Aug '40  Page 6
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   I had no idea where I was.  It was an utterly alien place, with buildings shooting thousands of stories into the air and low, rounded vehicles whizzing breackneckedly through the streets.
   I approached one of the hustling inhabitants.
   "I beg your pardon --", I began.
   "Never give to beggars", he said frowning fiercely.  "Find it encourages idleness", and rushed on.
   I walked up to a young lady who was looking into a store window, watching a youth industriously shoveling books into a furnace.  The name on the store-front was McCLINTOCK -- MICROFILM.
   "Pardon me", I said, raising my hat.  "Could you possibly --"
   "I'm a lady, see", she shrieked, spinning around.  "A lady!  And, bein' a lady, I don't have no trucj with your sort.  Understand?  I'm a la -- "
   This time I fled.
   I had gone three blocks before remembering my Uncle Jason's sage words.  "When in doust", he would say, patting my tousled blonde head affectionately, "ask a policeman."
   No policeman was in sight, but a few blocks on I found a reasonably accurate facsimile thereof.  He stood stiffly in front of a gas-mask shop.  He was about seven feet tall, dressed gaudily in a vari-colored uniform, with a blue-&-red neon sign on his cap, which read "Information" and flashed on and off.
   I stopped in front of him.  He clapped his hand to his head in a smart salute.  There was a loud _clang_.
   "I am Robert the Robot", he said metallicaly "and am at your service."
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The Phantagraph Aug '40 Page 6 ****************************************************** I had no idea where I was. It was an utterly alien place, with buildings shooting thousands of stories into the air and low, rounded vehicles whizzing breackneckedly through the streets. I approached one of the hustling inhabitants. "I beg your pardon --", I began. "Never give to beggars", he said frowning fiercely. "Find it encourages idleness", and rushed on. I walked up to a young lady who was looking into a store window, watching a youth industriously shoveling books into a furnace. The name on the store-front was McCLINTOCK -- MICROFILM. "Pardon me", I said, raising my hat. "Could you possibly --" "I'm a lady, see", she shrieked, spinning around. "A lady! And, bein' a lady, I don't have no trucj with your sort. Understand? I'm a la -- " This time I fled. I had gone three blocks before remembering my Uncle Jason's sage words. "When in doust", he would say, patting my tousled blonde head affectionately, "ask a policeman." No policeman was in sight, but a few blocks on I found a reasonably accurate facsimile thereof. He stood stiffly in front of a gas-mask shop. He was about seven feet tall, dressed gaudily in a vari-colored uniform, with a blue-&-red neon sign on his cap, which read "Information" and flashed on and off. I stopped in front of him. He clapped his hand to his head in a smart salute. There was a loud _clang_. "I am Robert the Robot", he said metallicaly "and am at your service." ******************************************************