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Scienti Tales, v. 1, issue 1, January 1939
Page 22
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THE HORRIBLE PANTOMINE SCIENTI-TALES PAGE 22... "Wake up and talk to me, my friend," I urged, as I gently shook him. He opened his eyes, seemed to recognize me and then raised his left hand. Once more his fingers spoke their peculiar language. The nearest policeman read obscenity, reached for his club and fainted. And then the sailor closed his eyes. I stood erect and faced the law indignantly. "You have killed him! And he was not a bad man but a sick one. His conduct was the result of intoxication and not of sin. You and your men are guilty ones." "He was my friend. But he was more than that. He was versed in pornographic pantomine. He knew symbols that have been lost for hundreds of years. He spoke a language with his fingers that even I, a master of obscenity failed to understand. His death is a loss to the entire civilized world. What are you going to do about it?" He came off his chair and around his desk. "For God's sake, get out of here before we have to arrest you too. We have had all we can stand for one morning. Who are you anyway?" "I am the Captain of his ship, the master of his soul." "Please get out," he almost cried, "Don't you see that this is a Hell of a way to spend a Sunday morning? And take him with you if you want to." "Do you expect me to carry him?" I asked sarcastically, as I walked cautiously to the door. I beat him to it. A half an hour later I met my daughters and Ralph. Told them the story on the way home. "And look at this," I added triumphantly, and reproduced the horrible pantomine with my fingers. "Do you know what that means?" I asked laughingly. "Damned if I know," acknowledged Ralph. "In all my experience in a co-educational and dancing the tango I never saw anything as obscene and as mysterious," cried Catharine. "It means another story and more Bobsy Books," purred Elizabeth, as she hugged me. "It means more than that," I told the little one. "This story will be so indecently obscene and so full of pornographic pantomine that the judges and lawyers will not be able to understand it. But sailors can, and so can the policemen and the desk clerk, and they will buy the magazine by the thousands and we won't be arrested and have to divide the with the lawyers. I will be a noted author. You girls will have money and Ralph can get his law office furnished and I can buy more and larger tubes of shaving soap. But I wish I knew what he meant. I will have to go the Congressional Library." "More books," murmured Elizabeth contentedly as she cuddled close to me. FINALE [Image of two spaceships flying past Earth. Signed Giunto.]
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THE HORRIBLE PANTOMINE SCIENTI-TALES PAGE 22... "Wake up and talk to me, my friend," I urged, as I gently shook him. He opened his eyes, seemed to recognize me and then raised his left hand. Once more his fingers spoke their peculiar language. The nearest policeman read obscenity, reached for his club and fainted. And then the sailor closed his eyes. I stood erect and faced the law indignantly. "You have killed him! And he was not a bad man but a sick one. His conduct was the result of intoxication and not of sin. You and your men are guilty ones." "He was my friend. But he was more than that. He was versed in pornographic pantomine. He knew symbols that have been lost for hundreds of years. He spoke a language with his fingers that even I, a master of obscenity failed to understand. His death is a loss to the entire civilized world. What are you going to do about it?" He came off his chair and around his desk. "For God's sake, get out of here before we have to arrest you too. We have had all we can stand for one morning. Who are you anyway?" "I am the Captain of his ship, the master of his soul." "Please get out," he almost cried, "Don't you see that this is a Hell of a way to spend a Sunday morning? And take him with you if you want to." "Do you expect me to carry him?" I asked sarcastically, as I walked cautiously to the door. I beat him to it. A half an hour later I met my daughters and Ralph. Told them the story on the way home. "And look at this," I added triumphantly, and reproduced the horrible pantomine with my fingers. "Do you know what that means?" I asked laughingly. "Damned if I know," acknowledged Ralph. "In all my experience in a co-educational and dancing the tango I never saw anything as obscene and as mysterious," cried Catharine. "It means another story and more Bobsy Books," purred Elizabeth, as she hugged me. "It means more than that," I told the little one. "This story will be so indecently obscene and so full of pornographic pantomine that the judges and lawyers will not be able to understand it. But sailors can, and so can the policemen and the desk clerk, and they will buy the magazine by the thousands and we won't be arrested and have to divide the with the lawyers. I will be a noted author. You girls will have money and Ralph can get his law office furnished and I can buy more and larger tubes of shaving soap. But I wish I knew what he meant. I will have to go the Congressional Library." "More books," murmured Elizabeth contentedly as she cuddled close to me. FINALE [Image of two spaceships flying past Earth. Signed Giunto.]
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