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Review
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Reading Club
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Test
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Grade
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27090
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4,5
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4,5
|
4,5
|
4,5
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37414
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2
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4,5
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4
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3,5
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34842
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4,5
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4,5
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4,5
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4,5
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26222
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4
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4,5
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4,5
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4,3
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23625
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4
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4,5
|
4,6
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4,4
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Tuesday, 11 June 2013
grades
Monday, 27 May 2013
Reading test - Alejandra Velásquez
2. Write four questions based on the story (Think about questions like the ones we used for discussion in our Reading Club meetings.)
2. -do you think that the boy didn´t really love his sister? why?
-why do you think the girl didn't talk at all?was she sick? what did she have?
-what do think that is the relationship between the title and the content of the story?
- how do you think that disabilities in a relative can affect the family relationship?
3. The girl- Marilyn (the beautiful child)
I think that Marilyn as the girl (sheryl) were treated and judged according to her phisical appearence, like if they were both destined to be and to do something specific in their lives but nothing else, when the truth is that Marilyn was dreamy, passioned and fragil in her inside but most important she was strong enough to overstep the boundaries that life puts in her way and so was Sheryl, trying to be as good as her brother with the skates, it turns out that she is really good at it; so I think that it is what the authors were trying to show us, that human beings are more than a physical appearence, a stereotypes and the abilities or disibalities that we have to do something.
3. Establish a relationship between the girl in the story The Flight of the Snowbird and one of the characters from the stories we read. (The Refugee Hotel, Haircut, And the toilet would not flush, The ones who walk away from Omala, Miss Brill, Prue, A beautiful child.)
2. -do you think that the boy didn´t really love his sister? why?
-why do you think the girl didn't talk at all?was she sick? what did she have?
-what do think that is the relationship between the title and the content of the story?
- how do you think that disabilities in a relative can affect the family relationship?
3. The girl- Marilyn (the beautiful child)
I think that Marilyn as the girl (sheryl) were treated and judged according to her phisical appearence, like if they were both destined to be and to do something specific in their lives but nothing else, when the truth is that Marilyn was dreamy, passioned and fragil in her inside but most important she was strong enough to overstep the boundaries that life puts in her way and so was Sheryl, trying to be as good as her brother with the skates, it turns out that she is really good at it; so I think that it is what the authors were trying to show us, that human beings are more than a physical appearence, a stereotypes and the abilities or disibalities that we have to do something.
1- What do you think is Sheryl problem? Why she can not speak?
2-How old you think is she?
3-Do you think he really hate them? Why he think he hate her?
4-What is the relationship between the title and the story?
In Haircut story Paul is seems by the other people like someone who does not feel or think and is always rejected and discriminated. In this story the boy has the same appreciation of her sister but in both stories they figured out than both Paul and Sheryl are more than they think and they finished given a lesson to otherones.
2-How old you think is she?
3-Do you think he really hate them? Why he think he hate her?
4-What is the relationship between the title and the story?
In Haircut story Paul is seems by the other people like someone who does not feel or think and is always rejected and discriminated. In this story the boy has the same appreciation of her sister but in both stories they figured out than both Paul and Sheryl are more than they think and they finished given a lesson to otherones.
Test
Questions:
1). What do you think was the "problem" Sheryl had? Why did she have that emptiness in her eyes?
2). What is the relationship between the little bird and Sheryl?
3). Why do you think Benji run over her to help her, even when the thought of getting rid of her came to his mind?
4). If you had a sister like Sheryl and you had Benji's age, how would you treat her? Would you be like him?
Sheryl (The flight of the Snowbird) and Marilyn Monroe (A beautiful child):
I think Sheryl and Marilyn share this being fragile and strong at the same time, though in different ways, I mean Sheryl is so small and white like snow that she makes you think you cannot touch her otherwise you would hurt her, but she has this natural gracefulness she's not aware of and an emptiness and strneght in her sight that makes her invincible and very strong to her brother, I mean she can break him just gazing at him and the boy can feel her presence even if she's not there. Meanwhile, Marilyn shows a strenght in her looks that makes her look unbreakable to the people who do not know her like she really is, the people who consider her a sex symbol and watch admired-because of her beauty, the films she acts in, however those who know the real Marylin know that she's really sensible, that she can change her mood as quickly as the flutter of a bird and that she is not a sexy woman but a beutiful child with her chareacteristic girlish giggle and the chewing of her thumbnail. These two characters with really different lives and personalities and who are different ages have this compound of strenght and fragileness, one shows to be fragile but is strong and the other one shows to be strong but is fragile.
1). What do you think was the "problem" Sheryl had? Why did she have that emptiness in her eyes?
2). What is the relationship between the little bird and Sheryl?
3). Why do you think Benji run over her to help her, even when the thought of getting rid of her came to his mind?
4). If you had a sister like Sheryl and you had Benji's age, how would you treat her? Would you be like him?
Sheryl (The flight of the Snowbird) and Marilyn Monroe (A beautiful child):
I think Sheryl and Marilyn share this being fragile and strong at the same time, though in different ways, I mean Sheryl is so small and white like snow that she makes you think you cannot touch her otherwise you would hurt her, but she has this natural gracefulness she's not aware of and an emptiness and strneght in her sight that makes her invincible and very strong to her brother, I mean she can break him just gazing at him and the boy can feel her presence even if she's not there. Meanwhile, Marilyn shows a strenght in her looks that makes her look unbreakable to the people who do not know her like she really is, the people who consider her a sex symbol and watch admired-because of her beauty, the films she acts in, however those who know the real Marylin know that she's really sensible, that she can change her mood as quickly as the flutter of a bird and that she is not a sexy woman but a beutiful child with her chareacteristic girlish giggle and the chewing of her thumbnail. These two characters with really different lives and personalities and who are different ages have this compound of strenght and fragileness, one shows to be fragile but is strong and the other one shows to be strong but is fragile.
The Flight of the Snowbird - Test 1 - Angélica Riascos
1.
Read the story: The
Flight of the Snowbird
2.
Write four questions based on the story (Think about questions like
the ones we used for discussion in our Reading Club meetings.)
Preguntas
- What symbolizes the bird, for the boy, the second time he sees it?
- What thoughts do you think go by the boy's mind when seeing the girl cry?
- What do you think the girl thinks while staring blankly at his brother's friends?
- What do you think the mother thinks is the reason why her boy is so mean to his sister?
- What thoughts do you think go by the boy's mind when seeing the girl cry?
- What do you think the girl thinks while staring blankly at his brother's friends?
- What do you think the mother thinks is the reason why her boy is so mean to his sister?
3.
Establish a relationship between the girl in the story The
Flight of the Snowbird and oneof
the characters from the stories we read. (The Refugee Hotel, Haircut,
And the toilet would not flush, The ones who walk away from Omala,
Miss Brill, Prue, A beautiful child.)
I can find a relationship between the little boy in "The ones who walk away from Omala" because he and the girl are never heard. They think and feel but they can't express their pain. The kid used to say he was going to be good until one day he gave up. The girl can't say anything but at the end of the story we find that she is aware of what happens around her, really aware, and his brother is stunned that she can actually feel stuff and express it. In the story, the ones who walk away from Omala, this kid feels but with time he lost the strength to complain, to cry, he knows he is going to be left there to "almost die", but also knows he is going to be well taken care of so he doesn't escape and doesn't die. The girl for her part, never gives signs of pain because she has dissabilities and can't express them unless she is really scared, like at the end of the story, where she starts to recognize her brother. The two of them, seem to fragile for me, they seem to be in their own worlds barely recognizing the people who intercede on their behalf, but they are still alive and don't have anything else to do but confront their own realities. They are alone, because althought the girl has her family around her, she feels like part of the landscape. Both characters move me, because in the end we can't totally infer what is going to happen with the rest of their lives.
English test, Cristine Noguera
Questions
- What is the relation you find between the title and the text?
- Have you ever been in that boy's situation or attitude?
- What is your impression of Sheryl? In your mind, what does she think of her brother?
- What do you think the end means? Why did the boy walk faster?
Two Girls
I believe we can find a parallel between this ill girl, this story's protagonist sister and the glamorous blonde we are introduced to in ¨A beautiful child¨. As we see they both are something they don't seem to be at the beginning: With Sheryl, I first thought of her as just an awkward, sick little girl who was on the way of his brother all the time; with Marilyn, I got the first impression of a strong, confident, amusing woman who had it all and felt pretty sure about who she was.
As both stories go on, they reveal themselves as something different: Marilyn, as this softened, insure, complex girl who just wanted to be loved and happy, and Sheryl, as a lovely little child that was a whole world inside of her and helps his brother discover some of his own worlds too as they interact.
They end up being something similar the two of them. They end up as brilliant, misunderstood, fragile, beautiful and complex creatures that, as they find themselves, enlighten the world that surrounds them.
Reading in English, test
1. Read the story: The Flight of the Snowbird
2. Write four questions based on the story (Think about questions like the ones we used for discussion in our Reading Club meetings.)
3. Establish a relationship between the girl in the story The Flight of the Snowbird and one of the characters from the stories we read. (The Refugee Hotel, Haircut, And the toilet would not flush, The ones who walk away from Omala, Miss Brill, Prue, A beautiful child.)
The Flight of the Snowbird
The
snow was falling quickly now. It was beginning to form little piles
in the corners of the wooden
cross of
the windowpane. The winter sky was pink-white and the bare trees in
the front yard cast their weird shadows in the pale winter light.
Suddenly
something flapped its way into the yard. It landed awkwardly in the
snow and fell forward on its beak. The bird struggled to its feet and
glanced around intently. It was small and white, about the size of
a sparrow.
The bird waddled clumsily, occasionally pecking at the ground.
The
boy at the window watched the bird with his nose against the glass.
He pressed his forehead against the pane and then watched as its
vapor print disappeared. He did this three times and wondered if he
would be able to get away from them tonight. The lawn chairs in the
front yard were heavy with snow, and he longed to be outside to tip
them over.
His
mother called him and the bird flew off. The boy watched it
fly gracefullyacross
the moonlit sky and idly wondered to himself what kind of bird it
was. He watched it until it was out of sight behind the barn and then
resumed his drawings on the window.
His
mother called again sharply, and he began to walk slowly through the
hall into the kitchen. He stepped into the warmly heated sun porch
and waited. Without looking up from the table his mother said, “Go
wash your hands in the kitchen.” The boy frowned but went into the
kitchen and swished his hands through the cold water. Waving them
dry, he walked back to the sun porch.
While
his mother said grace, he drew designs on the worn oilcloth with his
fingernail. He picked up his spoon and dipped it into the steaming
chicken noodle soup.
“Don’t
lean on the table, son.” His mother said softly. The boy frowned,
but took his elbows off the table. Crumbling a cracker into his soup,
he forced his eyes over to where his sister was sitting. Her eyes
were already fastened on his face. Could she read his mind? Sometimes
it seemed to him that she saw right through him.
A
wet noodle was pasted against her chin and he looked away in disgust
as his mother helped the noodle back into her mouth and tried to get
her to start eating again.
He
finished eating his soup, and drank his milk in one gulp.
“Can
I go now?” His mother looked up puzzled, “Where?” The boy
frowned at her impatiently as if she should know.
“I
thought I’d go out to the pond and try my new skates.”
His
mother glanced over to where his sister sat and said softly,
“Wait
a few more minutes, and you can take her with you.”
The
boy pushed the chair violently and said loudly, “I’m going by
myself. I won’t take her.”
“Please,
Benjy, you never give her a chance. You know how she loves to skate.
Just because she can’t tell you, you think you can just ignore
her. Please let her go with you this time.”
The
boy was watching the curious floating noodles in his soup bowl. He
mumbled something. His mother looked up. “What did you say?”
“I
said, I don’t ignore her. She always stares at me. I’m not taking
her.”
A
strand of gray hair fell across his mother’s pale cheek, and she
said tiredly, “Her skates are in the hall closet.”
The
boy stared at both of them with hate and then burst out, “I won’t
take her!”
He
ran to the closet and grabbed his coat, mittens, and cap. Slamming
the door behind him, he ran to the shed and opened the creaky door.
He looked over to where his skates hung. There bluish blades were
glittering in the pale blue light. He pulled them off the peg and
felt their sharp blades against his palm. Touching the soft black
leather and silver eyelets, he slung them across his shoulder and ran
into the yard. The lawn chairs were still waiting, and he went over
to them and tipped each one over. He smiled and ran across the field.
The
skates thumped carelessly against his back, and he looked around the
pasture. The pale winter light gave everything and unnatural glow and
made the tree and bushes stand out darkly against the snow.
The
snow was still falling but more lightly now, and he let it tickle his
nose until his eyes began to water; then he scratched at his nose
furiously. The snow beneath his feet was soft, and his shoes squeaked
crisply.
At
the end of the pasture, the pond gleamed brightly, like an open eye.
He sat down on a snow-covered hayrack and put it on his skates. Tying
the shoelaces of his other shoes, he slung them across his shoulder
and walked at the edge of the pond. He stood there and shivered
deliciously.
Something
tugged at his coat, and his stomach jumped. He looked down to see his
sister. Her coat was buttoned up crookedly, and her muffler was tied
loosely. He saw that her nose was running.
He
reached into his pocket and got out a wadded-up Kleenex and wiped her
nose viciously. Taking her hand, he pulled her roughly over to the
rack. As he sat her down he considered sending her back, but he knew
he would get into trouble if he did. He laced her skates too tight
and looked to see if there was any change in her face, but there was
none… nothing at all. Even when the laces bit into her skin, she
sat looking at him, her eyes boring quietly through him.
“Why
couldn’t she have had a good baby instead of you?” He looked at
her as if she were something loathsome, and hated himself for hating
her. She was nothing to him but a barrier between him and his mother.
At times he found he couldn’t even remember her name. But then,
perhaps, he made himself forget. He finished lacing her skates and
then walked away from her.
There
was a slight breeze now, and it cut through his corduroy pants. He
slid out onto to the pond and began to skate. His ankles ached
pleasantly, and he could feel his sharp blades hiss and scrape on the
ice below the snow. The cold was numbing; it bit into his face and
ears, making them tingle.
Skating
backward, he could see her approaching from behind. He watched her
skate toward him with a gracefulness he
knew he would never have. She was a good skater, he admitted. But did
she really know what she was doing? Was skating just something that
came naturally to her?
She
wasn’t well coordinated with her fingers, but she could skate
better than anyone he knew. Maybe it was her smallness and frailness
that made her so detestable to him. So pale and white.
He
watched her slide across the pond like a piece of chipped ice. Then
he turned around and skated forward. He stopped to sniff his nose and
felt a gentle tug at his coat. He shook her loose and went the other
way.
He
used to have his friends over, but she would stand behind the kitchen
door and stare at them until they stopped coming. She made them feel
uneasy.
She
could tell if he was happy, and if he was, she would pad along behind
him and hang onto his shirttail. But always there were the eyes
following him around-empty eyes boring through his back when he
wasn’t looking.
He
looked around her and couldn’t see her. He skated to the middle of
the pond and looked around. Then he saw her over on the part of the
pond that was off limits to them. There was no sign, but he knew it
was thin ice.
For
a moment he stood motionless. It would be so easy. So easy to tell
his mother he hadn’t even known she was there…so easy to see the
look of age and weariness disappear from her lined face…no more
kind and patient words from his sister’s bedroom, no more look of
defeat on his mother’s face when his sister wouldn’t learn to tie
her own shoes. There would be no more tears from his mother.
He
watched as his sister slid farther and farther away. Suddenly he saw
something out of the corner of his eye. It was the small, awkward
bird that flew so beautifully. It was flying slowly across the pond,
but when the boy looked at it directly, it disappeared; but he knew
it was there. He had seen it.
His
legs began to pump forward, and his skates dug frantically at the
ice. He couldn’t see her now, and his legs were burning with
impatience. He couldn’t seem to move fast enough, and tears were
beginning to stream from his eyes. She was visible to him now. He
watched as she skated onto the thin part. Then he heard the loud
crack, and he felt the ice tremble and shake as the ice broke and she
fell into the frozen lake. He reached in and clung tight as the icy
water numbed his fingers. Pulling as hard as he could, he saw her
head appear. The coat slipped from his fingers, and he lost her.
Desperately he thrust his arms into the water and searched franticly
for her. He felt her coat in his hands again, and this time he heaved
her out onto the ice.
For
what seemed a long time, he watched her blue face as he prayed to
Jesus for her eyes to open. His stomach jerked convulsively when her
eyes opened. She began to shiver, and he quickly took off her frozen
clothes, put her on his warm coat, and wrapped it around her small
body. He was vaguely aware of his freezing arms and hands as he took
off his skating socks and put them on her feet. The biting cold cut
into his feet, and he tried but couldn’t unlace his other shoe. He
slipped them on as best as he could. Picking her up, he started to
walk to the edge of the pond. Her body was very still in his arms,
and he noticed that her lips were bleeding. He took the tissue from
his pocket and wiped the blood away. Looking down at her face, he
searched for something in her eyes, but still there was nothing…no
pain, no accusation, nothing…except tears. Never before had he seen
her cry. Even when his mother would cry her heart out in front of his
sister, she would sit and stare unknowingly. Now that the tears began
to form and roll down her cheeks, the boy finally remembered her
name. It was Sheryl. She struggled closer to the warmth of his body,
and unconsciously he hugged her closer to him. Looking at her, he
softly said her name. At last he saw something more than emptiness.
He saw that she began to recognize him. He began to walk faster.
By
Jean Lively
Sunday, 19 May 2013
Monday Mayo 20th
Hola chicas,
Acabo de revisar el blog y no vi ninguna novedad.
Juliana, ¿qué texto escogiste?
Yo voy a llevar tortillas, un atún y una lata de arveja y zanahoria.
Por favor confirmen quien se encarga de: la bebida, un quesito, champiñones, cebolla, tomate, maíz.
See you tomorrow!
Sol Colmenares
Saturday, 27 April 2013
HAIRCUT - RING LARDNER
Hello guys, below is the story I chose for the reading club meeting of May the 6th just after Cristine's story! If you want me to put it downstairs with Alejandro please let me know it! Enjoy it
I got another barber that comes over from Carterville and helps me out Saturdays, but the rest of the time I can get along all right alone. You can see for yourself that this ain't no New York: City and besides that, the most of the boys works all day and don't have no leisure to drop in here and get themselves prettied up.
You're a newcomer, ain't you? I thought I hadn't seen you round before. I hope you like it good enough to stay. As I say, we ain't no New York City or Chicago, but we have pretty good times. Not as good, though, since Jim Kendall got killed. When he was alive, him and Hod Meyers used to keep this town in an uproar. I bet they was more laughin' done here than any town its size in America.
Jim was comical, and Hod was pretty near a match for him. Since Jim's gone, Hod tries to hold his end up just the same as ever, but it's tough goin' when you ain't got nobody to kind of work with.
They used to be plenty fun in here Saturdays. This place is jampacked Saturdays, from four o'clock on. Jim and Hod would show up right after their supper round six o'clock. Jim would set himself down in that big chair, nearest the blue spittoon. Whoever had been settin' in that chair, why they'd get up when Jim come in and at" it to him.
You'd of thought it was a reserved seat like they have sometimes in a theaytre. Hod would generally always stand or walk up and down or some Saturdays, of course, he'd be settin' in this chair part of the time, gettin' a haircut.
Well, Jim would set there a w'ile without opening his mouth only to spit, and then finally he'd say to me, "Whitey,"--my right name, that is, my right first name, is Dick, but everybody round here calls me Whitey--Jim would say, "Whitey, your nose looks like a rosebud tonight. You must of been drinkin' some of your aw de cologne."
So I'd say, "No, Jim, but you look like you'd been drinkin' something of that kind or somethin' worse."
Jim would have to laugh at that, but then he'd speak up and say, "No, I ain't had nothin' to drink, but that ain't sayin' I wouldn't like somethin'. I wouldn't even mind if it was wood alcohol."
Then Hod Meyers would say, "Neither would your wife." That would set everybody to laughin' because Jim and his wife wasn't on very good terms. She'd of divorced him only they wasn't no chance to get alimony and she didn't have no way to take care of herself and the kids. She couldn't never understand Jim. He was kind of rough, but a good fella at heart.
Him and Hod had all kinds of sport with Milt Sheppard. I don't suppose you've seen Milt. Well, he's got an Adam's apple that looks more like a mush-melon. So I'd be shavin' Milt and when I'd start to shave down here on his neck, Hod would holler, "Hey, Whitey, wait a minute! Before you cut into it, let's make up a pool and see who can guess closest to the number of seeds."
And Jim would say, "If Milt hadn't of been so hoggish, he'd of ordered a half a cantaloupe instead of a whole one and it might not of stuck in his throat."
All the boys would roar at this and Milt himself would force a smile, though the joke was on him. Jim certainly was a card!
There's his shavin' mug, setting on the shelf, right next to Charley Vail's. "Charles M. Vail." That's the druggist. He comes in regular for his shave, three times a week. And Jim's is the cup next to Charley's. "dames H. Kendall." Jim won't need no shavin' mug no more, but I'll leave it there just the same for old time's sake. Jim certainly was a character!
Years ago, Jim used to travel for a canned goods concern over in Carterville. They sold canned goods. Jim had the whole northern half of the State and was on the road five days out of every week. He'd drop in here Saturdays and tell his experiences for that week. It was rich.
I guess he paid more attention to playin' jokes than makin' sales. Finally the concern let him out and he come right home here and told everybody he'd been fired instead of sayin' he'd resigned like most fellas would of.
It was a Saturday and the shop was full and Jim got up out of that chair and says, "Gentlemen, I got an important announcement to make. I been fired from my job."
Well, they asked him if he was in earnest and he said he was and nobody could think of nothin' to say till Jim finally broke the ice himself. He says, "I been sellin' canned goods and now I'm canned goods myself.
You see, the concern he'd been workin' for was a factory that made canned goods. Over in Carterville. And now Jim said he was canned himself. He was certainly a card!
Jim had a great trick that he used to play w'ile he was travelin'. For instance, he'd be ridin' on a train and they'd come to some little town like, well, like, well, like, we'll say, like Benton. Jim would look out the train window and read the signs of the stores.
For instance, they'd be a sign, "Henry Smith, Dry Goods." Well, Jim would write down the name and the name of the town and when he got to wherever he was goin' he'd mail back a postal card to Henry Smith at Benton and not sign no name to it, but he'd write on the card, well somethin' like "Ask your wife about that book agent that spent the afternoon last week," or "Ask your Missus who kept her from gettin' lonesome the last time you was in Carterville." And he'd sign the card, "A Friend."
Of course, he never knew what really come of none of these jokes, but he could picture what probably happened and that was enough.
Jim didn't work very steady after he lost his position with the Carterville people. What he did earn, coin' odd jobs round town why he spent pretty near all of it on gin, and his family might of starved if the stores hadn't of carried them along. Jim's wife tried her hand at dressmakin', but they ain't nobody goin' to get rich makin' dresses in this town.
As I say, she'd of divorced Jim, only she seen that she couldn't support herself and the kids and she was always hopin' that some day Jim would cut out his habits and give her more than two or three dollars a week.
They was a time when she would go to whoever he was workin' for and ask them to give her his wages, but after she done this once or twice, he beat her to it by borrowin' most of his pay in advance. He told it all round town, how he had outfoxed his Missus. He certainly was a caution!
But he wasn't satisfied with just outwittin' her. He was sore the way she had acted, tryin' to grab off his pay. And he made up his mind he'd get even. Well, he waited till Evans's Circus was advertised to come to town. Then he told his wife and two kiddies that he was goin' to take them to the circus. The day of the circus, he told them he would get the tickets and meet them outside the entrance to the tent.
Well, he didn't have no intentions of bein' there or buyin' tickets or nothin'. He got full of gin and laid round Wright's poolroom all day. His wife and the kids waited and waited and of course he didn't show up. His wife didn't have a dime with her, or nowhere else, I guess. So she finally had to tell the kids it was all off and they cried like they wasn't never goin' to stop.
Well, it seems, w'ile they was cryin', Doc Stair come along and he asked what was the matter, but Mrs. Kendall was stubborn and wouldn't tell him, but the kids told him and he insisted on takin' them and their mother in the show. Jim found this out afterwards and it was one reason why he had it in for Doc Stair.
Doc Stair come here about a year and a half ago. He's a mighty handsome young fella and his clothes always look like he has them made to order. He goes to Detroit two or three times a year and w'ile he's there must have a tailor take his measure and then make him a suit to order. They cost pretty near twice as much, but they fit a whole lot better than if you just bought them in a store.
For a w'ile everybody was wonderin' why a young doctor like Doc Stair should come to a town like this where we already got old Doc Gamble and Doc Foote that's both been here for years and all the practice in town was always divided between the two of them.
Then they was a story got round that Doc Stair's gal had thronged him over, a gal up in the Northern Peninsula somewhere, and the reason he come here was to hide himself away and forget it. He said himself that he thought they wasn't nothin' like general practice in a place like ours to fit a man to be a good all round doctor. And that's why he'd came.
Anyways, it wasn't long before he was makin' enough to live on, though they tell me that he never dunned nobody for what they owed him, and the folks here certainly has got the owin' habit, even in my business. If I had all that was comin' to me for just shaves alone, I could go to Carterville and put up at the Mercer for a week and see a different picture every night. For instance, they's old George Purdy--but I guess I shouldn't ought to be gossipin'.
Well, last year, our coroner died, died of the flu. Ken Beatty, that was his name. He was the coroner. So they had to choose another man to be coroner in his place and they picked Doc Stair. He laughed at first and said he didn't want it, but they made him take it. It ain't no job that anybody would fight for and what a man makes out of it in a year would just about buy seeds for their garden. Doc's the kind, though, that can't say no to nothin' if you keep at him long enough.
But I was goin' to tell you about a poor boy we got here in town-Paul Dickson. He fell out of a tree when he was about ten years old. Lit on his head and it done somethin' to him and he ain't never been right. No harm in him, but just silly. Jim Kendall used to call him cuckoo; that's a name Jim had for anybody that was off their head, only he called people's head their bean. That was another of his gags, callin' head bean and callin' crazy people cuckoo. Only poor Paul ain't crazy, but just silly.
You can imagine that Jim used to have all kinds of fun with Paul. He'd send him to the White Front Garage for a left-handed monkey wrench. Of course they ain't no such thing as a left-handed monkey wrench.
And once we had a kind of a fair here and they was a baseball game between the fats and the leans and before the game started Jim called Paul over and sent him way down to Schrader's hardware store to get a key for the pitcher's box.
They wasn't nothin' in the way of gags that Jim couldn't think up, when he put his mind to it.
Poor Paul was always kind of suspicious of people, maybe on account of how Jim had kept foolin' him. Paul wouldn't have much to do with anybody only his own mother and Doc Stair and a girl here in town named Julie Gregg. That is, she ain't a girl no more, but pretty near thirty or over.
When Doc first come to town, Paul seemed to feel like here was a real friend and he hung round Doc's office most of the w'ile; the only time he wasn't there was when he'd go home to eat or sleep or when he seen Julie Gregg coin' her shoppin'.
When he looked out Doc's window and seen her, he'd run downstairs and join her and tag along with her to the different stores. The poor boy was crazy about Julie and she always treated him mighty nice and made him feel like he was welcome, though of course it wasn't nothin' but pity on her side.
Doc done all he could to improve Paul's mind and he told me once that he really thought the boy was getting better, that they was times when he was as bright and sensible as anybody else.
But I was goin' to tell you about Julie Gregg. Old man Gregg was in the lumber business, but got to drinkin' and lost the most of his money and when he died, he didn't leave nothin' but the house and just enough insurance for the girl to skimp along on.
Her mother was a kind of a half invalid and didn't hardly ever leave the house. Julie wanted to sell the place and move somewhere else after the old man died, but the mother said she was born here and would die here. It was tough on Julie as the young people round this town--well, she's too good for them.
She'd been away to school and Chicago and New York and different places and they ain't no subject she can't talk on, where you take the rest of the young folks here and you mention anything to them outside of Gloria Swanson or Tommy Meighan and they think you're delirious. Did you see Gloria in Wages of Virtue? You missed somethin'!
Well, Doc Stair hadn't been here more than a week when he came in one day to get shaved and I recognized who he was, as he had been pointed out to me, so I told him about my old lady. She's been ailin' for a couple years and either Doc Gamble or Doc Foote, neither one, seemed to be helpin' her. So he said he would come out and see her, but if she was able to get out herself, it would be better to bring her to his office where he could make a completer examination.
So I took her to his office and w'ile I was waitin' for her in the reception room, in come Julie Gregg. When somebody comes in Doc Stair's office, they's a bell that rings in his inside office so he can tell they's somebody to see him.
So he left my old lady inside and come out to the front office and that's the first time him and Julie met and I guess it was what they call love at first sight. But it wasn't fifty-fifty. This young fella was the slickest lookin' fella she'd ever seen in this town and she went wild over him. To him she was just a young lady that wanted to see the doctor.
She'd came on about the same business I had. Her mother had been doctorin' for years with Doc Gamble and Doc Foote and with" out no results. So she'd heard they was a new doc in town and decided to give him a try. He promised to call and see her mother that same day.
I said a minute ago that it was love at first sight on her part. I'm not only judgin' by how she acted afterwards but how she looked at him that first day in his office. I ain't no mind reader, but it was wrote all over her face that she was gone.
Now Jim Kendall, besides bein' a jokesmith and a pretty good drinker, well Jim was quite a lady-killer. I guess he run pretty wild durin' the time he was on the road for them Carterville people, and besides that, he'd had a couple little affairs of the heart right here in town. As I say, his wife would have divorced him, only she couldn't.
But Jim was like the majority of men, and women, too, I guess. He wanted what he couldn't get. He wanted Julie Gregg and worked his head off tryin' to land her. Only he'd of said bean instead of head.
Well, Jim's habits and his jokes didn't appeal to Julie and of course he was a married man, so he didn't have no more chance than, well, than a rabbit. That's an expression of Jim's himself. When somebody didn't have no chance to get elected or somethin', Jim would always say they didn't have no more chance than a rabbit.
He didn't make no bones about how he felt. Right in here, more than once, in front of the whole crowd, he said he was stuck on Julie and anybody that could get her for him was welcome to his house and his wife and kids included. But she wouldn't have nothin' to do with him; wouldn't even speak to him on the street. He finally seen he wasn't gettin' nowheres with his usual line so he decided to try the rough stuff. He went right up to her house one evenin' and when she opened the door he forced his way in and grabbed her. But she broke loose and before he could stop her, she run in the next room and locked the door and phoned to Joe Barnes. Joe's the marshal. Jim could hear who she was phonin' to and he beat it before Joe got there.
Joe was an old friend of Julie's pa. Joe went to Jim the next day and told him what would happen if he ever done it again.
I don't know how the news of this little affair leaked out. Chances is that Joe Barnes told his wife and she told somebody else's wife and they told their husband. Anyways, it did leak out and Hod Meyers had the nerve to kid Jim about it, right here in this shop. Jim didn't deny nothin' and kind of laughed it off and said for us all to wait; that lots of people had tried to make a monkey out of him, but he always got even.
Meanw'ile everybody in town was wise to Julie's bein' wild mad over the Doc. I don't suppose she had any idea how her face changed when him and her was together; of course she couldn't of, or she'd of kept away from him. And she didn't know that we was all noticin' how many times she made excuses to go up to his office or pass it on the other side of the street and look up in his window to see if he was there. I felt sorry for her and so did most other people.
Hod Meyers kept rubbin' it into Jim about how the Doc had cut him out. Jim didn't pay no attention to the kiddie' and you could see he was plannin' one of his jokes.
One trick Jim had was the knack of changin' his voice. He could make you think he was a girl talkie' and he could mimic any man's voice. To show you how good he was along this line, I'll tell you the joke he played on me once.
You know, in most towns of any size, when a man is dead and needs a shave, why the barber that shaves him soaks him five dollars for the job; that is, he don't soak him, but whoever ordered the shave. I just charge three dollars because personally I don't mind much shavin' a dead person. They lay a whole lot stiller than live customers. The only thing is that you don't feel like talkie' to them and you get kind of lonesome.
Well, about the coldest day we ever had here, two years ago last winter, the phone rung at the house w'ile I was home to dinner and I answered the phone and it was a woman's voice and she said she was Mrs. John Scott and her husband was dead and would I come out and shave him.
Old John had always been a good customer of mine. But they live seven miles out in the country, on the Streeter road. Still I didn't see how I could say no.
So I said I would be there, but would have to come in a jitney and it might cost three or four dollars besides the price of the shave. So she, or the voice, it said that was all right, so I got Frank Abbott to drive me out to the place and when I got there, who should open the door but old John himself! He wasn't no more dead than, well, than a rabbit.
It didn't take no private detective to figure out who had played me this little joke. Nobody could of thought it up but Jim Kendall. He certainly was a card!
I tell you this incident just to show you how he could disguise his voice and make you believe it was somebody else talkie'. I'd of swore it was Mrs. Scott had called me. Anyways, some woman.
Well, Jim waited till he had Doc Stair's voice down pat; then he went after revenge.
He called Julie up on a night when he knew Doc was over in Carterville. She never questioned but what it was Doc's voice. Jim said he must see her that night; he couldn't wait no longer to tell her somethin'. She was all excited and told him to come to the house. But he said he was expectin' an important long distance call and wouldn't she please forget her manners for once and come to his office. He said they couldn't nothin' hurt her and nobody would see her and he just must talk to her a little w'ile. Well, poor Julie fell for it.
Doc always keeps a night light in his office, so it looked to Julie like they was somebody there.
Meanw'ile Jim Kendall had went to Wright's poolroom, where they was a whole gang amusin' themselves. The most of them had drank plenty of gin, and they was a rough bunch even when sober. They was always strong for Jim's jokes and when he told them to come with him and see some fun they give up their card games and pool games and followed along.
Doc's office is on the second floor. Right outside his door they's a flight of stairs leadin' to the floor above. Jim and his gang hid in the dark behind these stairs.
Well, tulle come up to Doc's door and rung the bell and they was nothin' coin'. She rung it again and she rung it seven or eight times. Then she tried the door and found it locked. Then Jim made some kind of a noise and she heard it and waited a minute, and then she says, "Is that you, Ralph?" Ralph is Doc's first name.
They was no answer and it must of came to her all of a sudden that she'd been bunked. She pretty near fell downstairs and the whole gang after her. They chased her all the way home, hollerin', "Is that you, Ralph?" and "Oh, Ralphie, dear, is that you?" Jim says he couldn't holler it himself, as he was laughin' too hard.
Poor Julie! She didn't show up here on Main Street for a long, long time afterward.
And of course Jim and his gang told everybody in town, everybody but Doc Stair. They was scared to tell him, and he might of never knowed only for Paul Dickson. The poor cuckoo, as Jim called him, he was here in the shop one night when Jim was still gloatin' yet over what he'd done to Julie. And Paul took in as much of it as he could understand and he run to Doc with the story.
It's a cinch Doc went up in the air and swore he'd make Jim suffer. But it was a kind of a delicate thing, because if it got out that he had beat Jim up, Julie was bound to hear of it and then she'd know that Doc knew and of course knowin' that he knew would make it worse for her than ever. He was goin' to do somethin', but it took a lot of figurin'.
Well, it was a couple days later when Jim was here in the shop again, and so was the cuckoo. Jim was goin' duck-shootin' the next day and had come in lookin' for Hod Meyers to go with him. I happened to know that Hod had went over to Carterville and wouldn't be home till the end of the week. So Jim said he hated to go alone and he guessed he would call it off. Then poor Paul spoke up and said if Jim would take him he would go along. Jim thought a w'ile and then he said, well, he guessed a half-wit was better than nothin'.
I suppose he was plottin' to get Paul out in the boat and play some joke on him, like pushin' him in the water. Anyways, he said Paul could go. He asked him had he ever shot a duck and Paul said no, he'd never even had a gun in his hands. So Jim said he could set in the boat and watch him and if he behaved himself, he might lend him his gun for a couple of shots. They made a date to meet in the mornin' and that's the last I seen of Jim alive.
Next mornin', I hadn't been open more than ten minutes when Doc Stair come in. He looked kind of nervous. He asked me had I seen Paul Dickson. I said no, but I knew where he was, out duckshootin' with Jim Kendall. So Doc says that's what he had heard, and he couldn't understand it because Paul had told him he wouldn't never have no more to do with Jim as long as he lived.
He said Paul had told him about the joke Jim had played on Julie. He said Paul had asked him what he thought of the joke and the Doc told him that anybody that would do a thing like that ought not to be let live. I said it had been a kind of a raw thing, but Jim just couldn't resist no kind of a joke, no matter how raw. I said I thought he was all right at heart, but just bubblin' over with mischief. Doc turned and walked out.
At noon he got a phone call from old John Scott. The lake where Jim and Paul had went shootin' is on John's place. Paul had came runnin' up to the house a few minutes before and said they'd been an accident. Jim had shot a few ducks and then give the gun to Paul and told him to try his luck. Paul hadn't never handled a gun and he was nervous. He was shakin' so hard that he couldn't control the gun. He let fire and Jim sunk back in the boat, dead.
Doc Stair, bein' the coroner, jumped in Frank Abbott's flivver and rushed out to Scott's farm. Paul and old John was down on the shore of the lake. Paul had rowed the boat to shore, but they'd left the body in it, waiting for Doc to come.
Doc examined the body and said they might as well fetch it back to town. They was no use leavin' it there or callin' a jury, as it was a plain case of accidental shootin'.
Personally I wouldn't never leave a person shoot a gun in the same boat I was in unless I was sure they knew somethin' about guns. Jim was a sucker to leave a new beginner have his gun, let alone a half-wit. It probably served Jim right, what he got. But still we miss him round here. He certainly was a card! Comb it wet or dry?
You're a newcomer, ain't you? I thought I hadn't seen you round before. I hope you like it good enough to stay. As I say, we ain't no New York City or Chicago, but we have pretty good times. Not as good, though, since Jim Kendall got killed. When he was alive, him and Hod Meyers used to keep this town in an uproar. I bet they was more laughin' done here than any town its size in America.
Jim was comical, and Hod was pretty near a match for him. Since Jim's gone, Hod tries to hold his end up just the same as ever, but it's tough goin' when you ain't got nobody to kind of work with.
They used to be plenty fun in here Saturdays. This place is jampacked Saturdays, from four o'clock on. Jim and Hod would show up right after their supper round six o'clock. Jim would set himself down in that big chair, nearest the blue spittoon. Whoever had been settin' in that chair, why they'd get up when Jim come in and at" it to him.
You'd of thought it was a reserved seat like they have sometimes in a theaytre. Hod would generally always stand or walk up and down or some Saturdays, of course, he'd be settin' in this chair part of the time, gettin' a haircut.
Well, Jim would set there a w'ile without opening his mouth only to spit, and then finally he'd say to me, "Whitey,"--my right name, that is, my right first name, is Dick, but everybody round here calls me Whitey--Jim would say, "Whitey, your nose looks like a rosebud tonight. You must of been drinkin' some of your aw de cologne."
So I'd say, "No, Jim, but you look like you'd been drinkin' something of that kind or somethin' worse."
Jim would have to laugh at that, but then he'd speak up and say, "No, I ain't had nothin' to drink, but that ain't sayin' I wouldn't like somethin'. I wouldn't even mind if it was wood alcohol."
Then Hod Meyers would say, "Neither would your wife." That would set everybody to laughin' because Jim and his wife wasn't on very good terms. She'd of divorced him only they wasn't no chance to get alimony and she didn't have no way to take care of herself and the kids. She couldn't never understand Jim. He was kind of rough, but a good fella at heart.
Him and Hod had all kinds of sport with Milt Sheppard. I don't suppose you've seen Milt. Well, he's got an Adam's apple that looks more like a mush-melon. So I'd be shavin' Milt and when I'd start to shave down here on his neck, Hod would holler, "Hey, Whitey, wait a minute! Before you cut into it, let's make up a pool and see who can guess closest to the number of seeds."
And Jim would say, "If Milt hadn't of been so hoggish, he'd of ordered a half a cantaloupe instead of a whole one and it might not of stuck in his throat."
All the boys would roar at this and Milt himself would force a smile, though the joke was on him. Jim certainly was a card!
There's his shavin' mug, setting on the shelf, right next to Charley Vail's. "Charles M. Vail." That's the druggist. He comes in regular for his shave, three times a week. And Jim's is the cup next to Charley's. "dames H. Kendall." Jim won't need no shavin' mug no more, but I'll leave it there just the same for old time's sake. Jim certainly was a character!
Years ago, Jim used to travel for a canned goods concern over in Carterville. They sold canned goods. Jim had the whole northern half of the State and was on the road five days out of every week. He'd drop in here Saturdays and tell his experiences for that week. It was rich.
I guess he paid more attention to playin' jokes than makin' sales. Finally the concern let him out and he come right home here and told everybody he'd been fired instead of sayin' he'd resigned like most fellas would of.
It was a Saturday and the shop was full and Jim got up out of that chair and says, "Gentlemen, I got an important announcement to make. I been fired from my job."
Well, they asked him if he was in earnest and he said he was and nobody could think of nothin' to say till Jim finally broke the ice himself. He says, "I been sellin' canned goods and now I'm canned goods myself.
You see, the concern he'd been workin' for was a factory that made canned goods. Over in Carterville. And now Jim said he was canned himself. He was certainly a card!
Jim had a great trick that he used to play w'ile he was travelin'. For instance, he'd be ridin' on a train and they'd come to some little town like, well, like, well, like, we'll say, like Benton. Jim would look out the train window and read the signs of the stores.
For instance, they'd be a sign, "Henry Smith, Dry Goods." Well, Jim would write down the name and the name of the town and when he got to wherever he was goin' he'd mail back a postal card to Henry Smith at Benton and not sign no name to it, but he'd write on the card, well somethin' like "Ask your wife about that book agent that spent the afternoon last week," or "Ask your Missus who kept her from gettin' lonesome the last time you was in Carterville." And he'd sign the card, "A Friend."
Of course, he never knew what really come of none of these jokes, but he could picture what probably happened and that was enough.
Jim didn't work very steady after he lost his position with the Carterville people. What he did earn, coin' odd jobs round town why he spent pretty near all of it on gin, and his family might of starved if the stores hadn't of carried them along. Jim's wife tried her hand at dressmakin', but they ain't nobody goin' to get rich makin' dresses in this town.
As I say, she'd of divorced Jim, only she seen that she couldn't support herself and the kids and she was always hopin' that some day Jim would cut out his habits and give her more than two or three dollars a week.
They was a time when she would go to whoever he was workin' for and ask them to give her his wages, but after she done this once or twice, he beat her to it by borrowin' most of his pay in advance. He told it all round town, how he had outfoxed his Missus. He certainly was a caution!
But he wasn't satisfied with just outwittin' her. He was sore the way she had acted, tryin' to grab off his pay. And he made up his mind he'd get even. Well, he waited till Evans's Circus was advertised to come to town. Then he told his wife and two kiddies that he was goin' to take them to the circus. The day of the circus, he told them he would get the tickets and meet them outside the entrance to the tent.
Well, he didn't have no intentions of bein' there or buyin' tickets or nothin'. He got full of gin and laid round Wright's poolroom all day. His wife and the kids waited and waited and of course he didn't show up. His wife didn't have a dime with her, or nowhere else, I guess. So she finally had to tell the kids it was all off and they cried like they wasn't never goin' to stop.
Well, it seems, w'ile they was cryin', Doc Stair come along and he asked what was the matter, but Mrs. Kendall was stubborn and wouldn't tell him, but the kids told him and he insisted on takin' them and their mother in the show. Jim found this out afterwards and it was one reason why he had it in for Doc Stair.
Doc Stair come here about a year and a half ago. He's a mighty handsome young fella and his clothes always look like he has them made to order. He goes to Detroit two or three times a year and w'ile he's there must have a tailor take his measure and then make him a suit to order. They cost pretty near twice as much, but they fit a whole lot better than if you just bought them in a store.
For a w'ile everybody was wonderin' why a young doctor like Doc Stair should come to a town like this where we already got old Doc Gamble and Doc Foote that's both been here for years and all the practice in town was always divided between the two of them.
Then they was a story got round that Doc Stair's gal had thronged him over, a gal up in the Northern Peninsula somewhere, and the reason he come here was to hide himself away and forget it. He said himself that he thought they wasn't nothin' like general practice in a place like ours to fit a man to be a good all round doctor. And that's why he'd came.
Anyways, it wasn't long before he was makin' enough to live on, though they tell me that he never dunned nobody for what they owed him, and the folks here certainly has got the owin' habit, even in my business. If I had all that was comin' to me for just shaves alone, I could go to Carterville and put up at the Mercer for a week and see a different picture every night. For instance, they's old George Purdy--but I guess I shouldn't ought to be gossipin'.
Well, last year, our coroner died, died of the flu. Ken Beatty, that was his name. He was the coroner. So they had to choose another man to be coroner in his place and they picked Doc Stair. He laughed at first and said he didn't want it, but they made him take it. It ain't no job that anybody would fight for and what a man makes out of it in a year would just about buy seeds for their garden. Doc's the kind, though, that can't say no to nothin' if you keep at him long enough.
But I was goin' to tell you about a poor boy we got here in town-Paul Dickson. He fell out of a tree when he was about ten years old. Lit on his head and it done somethin' to him and he ain't never been right. No harm in him, but just silly. Jim Kendall used to call him cuckoo; that's a name Jim had for anybody that was off their head, only he called people's head their bean. That was another of his gags, callin' head bean and callin' crazy people cuckoo. Only poor Paul ain't crazy, but just silly.
You can imagine that Jim used to have all kinds of fun with Paul. He'd send him to the White Front Garage for a left-handed monkey wrench. Of course they ain't no such thing as a left-handed monkey wrench.
And once we had a kind of a fair here and they was a baseball game between the fats and the leans and before the game started Jim called Paul over and sent him way down to Schrader's hardware store to get a key for the pitcher's box.
They wasn't nothin' in the way of gags that Jim couldn't think up, when he put his mind to it.
Poor Paul was always kind of suspicious of people, maybe on account of how Jim had kept foolin' him. Paul wouldn't have much to do with anybody only his own mother and Doc Stair and a girl here in town named Julie Gregg. That is, she ain't a girl no more, but pretty near thirty or over.
When Doc first come to town, Paul seemed to feel like here was a real friend and he hung round Doc's office most of the w'ile; the only time he wasn't there was when he'd go home to eat or sleep or when he seen Julie Gregg coin' her shoppin'.
When he looked out Doc's window and seen her, he'd run downstairs and join her and tag along with her to the different stores. The poor boy was crazy about Julie and she always treated him mighty nice and made him feel like he was welcome, though of course it wasn't nothin' but pity on her side.
Doc done all he could to improve Paul's mind and he told me once that he really thought the boy was getting better, that they was times when he was as bright and sensible as anybody else.
But I was goin' to tell you about Julie Gregg. Old man Gregg was in the lumber business, but got to drinkin' and lost the most of his money and when he died, he didn't leave nothin' but the house and just enough insurance for the girl to skimp along on.
Her mother was a kind of a half invalid and didn't hardly ever leave the house. Julie wanted to sell the place and move somewhere else after the old man died, but the mother said she was born here and would die here. It was tough on Julie as the young people round this town--well, she's too good for them.
She'd been away to school and Chicago and New York and different places and they ain't no subject she can't talk on, where you take the rest of the young folks here and you mention anything to them outside of Gloria Swanson or Tommy Meighan and they think you're delirious. Did you see Gloria in Wages of Virtue? You missed somethin'!
Well, Doc Stair hadn't been here more than a week when he came in one day to get shaved and I recognized who he was, as he had been pointed out to me, so I told him about my old lady. She's been ailin' for a couple years and either Doc Gamble or Doc Foote, neither one, seemed to be helpin' her. So he said he would come out and see her, but if she was able to get out herself, it would be better to bring her to his office where he could make a completer examination.
So I took her to his office and w'ile I was waitin' for her in the reception room, in come Julie Gregg. When somebody comes in Doc Stair's office, they's a bell that rings in his inside office so he can tell they's somebody to see him.
So he left my old lady inside and come out to the front office and that's the first time him and Julie met and I guess it was what they call love at first sight. But it wasn't fifty-fifty. This young fella was the slickest lookin' fella she'd ever seen in this town and she went wild over him. To him she was just a young lady that wanted to see the doctor.
She'd came on about the same business I had. Her mother had been doctorin' for years with Doc Gamble and Doc Foote and with" out no results. So she'd heard they was a new doc in town and decided to give him a try. He promised to call and see her mother that same day.
I said a minute ago that it was love at first sight on her part. I'm not only judgin' by how she acted afterwards but how she looked at him that first day in his office. I ain't no mind reader, but it was wrote all over her face that she was gone.
Now Jim Kendall, besides bein' a jokesmith and a pretty good drinker, well Jim was quite a lady-killer. I guess he run pretty wild durin' the time he was on the road for them Carterville people, and besides that, he'd had a couple little affairs of the heart right here in town. As I say, his wife would have divorced him, only she couldn't.
But Jim was like the majority of men, and women, too, I guess. He wanted what he couldn't get. He wanted Julie Gregg and worked his head off tryin' to land her. Only he'd of said bean instead of head.
Well, Jim's habits and his jokes didn't appeal to Julie and of course he was a married man, so he didn't have no more chance than, well, than a rabbit. That's an expression of Jim's himself. When somebody didn't have no chance to get elected or somethin', Jim would always say they didn't have no more chance than a rabbit.
He didn't make no bones about how he felt. Right in here, more than once, in front of the whole crowd, he said he was stuck on Julie and anybody that could get her for him was welcome to his house and his wife and kids included. But she wouldn't have nothin' to do with him; wouldn't even speak to him on the street. He finally seen he wasn't gettin' nowheres with his usual line so he decided to try the rough stuff. He went right up to her house one evenin' and when she opened the door he forced his way in and grabbed her. But she broke loose and before he could stop her, she run in the next room and locked the door and phoned to Joe Barnes. Joe's the marshal. Jim could hear who she was phonin' to and he beat it before Joe got there.
Joe was an old friend of Julie's pa. Joe went to Jim the next day and told him what would happen if he ever done it again.
I don't know how the news of this little affair leaked out. Chances is that Joe Barnes told his wife and she told somebody else's wife and they told their husband. Anyways, it did leak out and Hod Meyers had the nerve to kid Jim about it, right here in this shop. Jim didn't deny nothin' and kind of laughed it off and said for us all to wait; that lots of people had tried to make a monkey out of him, but he always got even.
Meanw'ile everybody in town was wise to Julie's bein' wild mad over the Doc. I don't suppose she had any idea how her face changed when him and her was together; of course she couldn't of, or she'd of kept away from him. And she didn't know that we was all noticin' how many times she made excuses to go up to his office or pass it on the other side of the street and look up in his window to see if he was there. I felt sorry for her and so did most other people.
Hod Meyers kept rubbin' it into Jim about how the Doc had cut him out. Jim didn't pay no attention to the kiddie' and you could see he was plannin' one of his jokes.
One trick Jim had was the knack of changin' his voice. He could make you think he was a girl talkie' and he could mimic any man's voice. To show you how good he was along this line, I'll tell you the joke he played on me once.
You know, in most towns of any size, when a man is dead and needs a shave, why the barber that shaves him soaks him five dollars for the job; that is, he don't soak him, but whoever ordered the shave. I just charge three dollars because personally I don't mind much shavin' a dead person. They lay a whole lot stiller than live customers. The only thing is that you don't feel like talkie' to them and you get kind of lonesome.
Well, about the coldest day we ever had here, two years ago last winter, the phone rung at the house w'ile I was home to dinner and I answered the phone and it was a woman's voice and she said she was Mrs. John Scott and her husband was dead and would I come out and shave him.
Old John had always been a good customer of mine. But they live seven miles out in the country, on the Streeter road. Still I didn't see how I could say no.
So I said I would be there, but would have to come in a jitney and it might cost three or four dollars besides the price of the shave. So she, or the voice, it said that was all right, so I got Frank Abbott to drive me out to the place and when I got there, who should open the door but old John himself! He wasn't no more dead than, well, than a rabbit.
It didn't take no private detective to figure out who had played me this little joke. Nobody could of thought it up but Jim Kendall. He certainly was a card!
I tell you this incident just to show you how he could disguise his voice and make you believe it was somebody else talkie'. I'd of swore it was Mrs. Scott had called me. Anyways, some woman.
Well, Jim waited till he had Doc Stair's voice down pat; then he went after revenge.
He called Julie up on a night when he knew Doc was over in Carterville. She never questioned but what it was Doc's voice. Jim said he must see her that night; he couldn't wait no longer to tell her somethin'. She was all excited and told him to come to the house. But he said he was expectin' an important long distance call and wouldn't she please forget her manners for once and come to his office. He said they couldn't nothin' hurt her and nobody would see her and he just must talk to her a little w'ile. Well, poor Julie fell for it.
Doc always keeps a night light in his office, so it looked to Julie like they was somebody there.
Meanw'ile Jim Kendall had went to Wright's poolroom, where they was a whole gang amusin' themselves. The most of them had drank plenty of gin, and they was a rough bunch even when sober. They was always strong for Jim's jokes and when he told them to come with him and see some fun they give up their card games and pool games and followed along.
Doc's office is on the second floor. Right outside his door they's a flight of stairs leadin' to the floor above. Jim and his gang hid in the dark behind these stairs.
Well, tulle come up to Doc's door and rung the bell and they was nothin' coin'. She rung it again and she rung it seven or eight times. Then she tried the door and found it locked. Then Jim made some kind of a noise and she heard it and waited a minute, and then she says, "Is that you, Ralph?" Ralph is Doc's first name.
They was no answer and it must of came to her all of a sudden that she'd been bunked. She pretty near fell downstairs and the whole gang after her. They chased her all the way home, hollerin', "Is that you, Ralph?" and "Oh, Ralphie, dear, is that you?" Jim says he couldn't holler it himself, as he was laughin' too hard.
Poor Julie! She didn't show up here on Main Street for a long, long time afterward.
And of course Jim and his gang told everybody in town, everybody but Doc Stair. They was scared to tell him, and he might of never knowed only for Paul Dickson. The poor cuckoo, as Jim called him, he was here in the shop one night when Jim was still gloatin' yet over what he'd done to Julie. And Paul took in as much of it as he could understand and he run to Doc with the story.
It's a cinch Doc went up in the air and swore he'd make Jim suffer. But it was a kind of a delicate thing, because if it got out that he had beat Jim up, Julie was bound to hear of it and then she'd know that Doc knew and of course knowin' that he knew would make it worse for her than ever. He was goin' to do somethin', but it took a lot of figurin'.
Well, it was a couple days later when Jim was here in the shop again, and so was the cuckoo. Jim was goin' duck-shootin' the next day and had come in lookin' for Hod Meyers to go with him. I happened to know that Hod had went over to Carterville and wouldn't be home till the end of the week. So Jim said he hated to go alone and he guessed he would call it off. Then poor Paul spoke up and said if Jim would take him he would go along. Jim thought a w'ile and then he said, well, he guessed a half-wit was better than nothin'.
I suppose he was plottin' to get Paul out in the boat and play some joke on him, like pushin' him in the water. Anyways, he said Paul could go. He asked him had he ever shot a duck and Paul said no, he'd never even had a gun in his hands. So Jim said he could set in the boat and watch him and if he behaved himself, he might lend him his gun for a couple of shots. They made a date to meet in the mornin' and that's the last I seen of Jim alive.
Next mornin', I hadn't been open more than ten minutes when Doc Stair come in. He looked kind of nervous. He asked me had I seen Paul Dickson. I said no, but I knew where he was, out duckshootin' with Jim Kendall. So Doc says that's what he had heard, and he couldn't understand it because Paul had told him he wouldn't never have no more to do with Jim as long as he lived.
He said Paul had told him about the joke Jim had played on Julie. He said Paul had asked him what he thought of the joke and the Doc told him that anybody that would do a thing like that ought not to be let live. I said it had been a kind of a raw thing, but Jim just couldn't resist no kind of a joke, no matter how raw. I said I thought he was all right at heart, but just bubblin' over with mischief. Doc turned and walked out.
At noon he got a phone call from old John Scott. The lake where Jim and Paul had went shootin' is on John's place. Paul had came runnin' up to the house a few minutes before and said they'd been an accident. Jim had shot a few ducks and then give the gun to Paul and told him to try his luck. Paul hadn't never handled a gun and he was nervous. He was shakin' so hard that he couldn't control the gun. He let fire and Jim sunk back in the boat, dead.
Doc Stair, bein' the coroner, jumped in Frank Abbott's flivver and rushed out to Scott's farm. Paul and old John was down on the shore of the lake. Paul had rowed the boat to shore, but they'd left the body in it, waiting for Doc to come.
Doc examined the body and said they might as well fetch it back to town. They was no use leavin' it there or callin' a jury, as it was a plain case of accidental shootin'.
Personally I wouldn't never leave a person shoot a gun in the same boat I was in unless I was sure they knew somethin' about guns. Jim was a sucker to leave a new beginner have his gun, let alone a half-wit. It probably served Jim right, what he got. But still we miss him round here. He certainly was a card! Comb it wet or dry?
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