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Necromancer, v. 1, issue 1, July 1947
Page 18
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if yer kind had our eyes, and acted as we do, there wud be less strife, and all animal life wud be much the better for it." He thought for a short moment, and then hurried on. "Now dinna misunderstand me, lad," he hastened, "I dinna mean that ye humans should go around sniffing at one anithor's backsides or the like. It wud certainly be undignified, and, I daresay, most repellant in many instances." "Indeed, indeed!" I interjected emphatically. "Nay," he continued "just lurrn to look upon each ithor as we beasties do and teach love o' all without hate and prejudices toward some -- and then, and then only, can ye rightly make a claim o' animal superiority." There was a moment of silence, as I turned this over in my mind. I was touched, and I'm sure I would have become quite Bourbonly sentimental ((ancient gag coming up)) had not a horse named Bourbon, (or something like that) who happened to be passing by, and had seen us through the window, poked his head in and asked directions to the race-track. Goldberg was so surprised he almost knocked the bottle over. "Well, by the ghostio o' Robbie Burns hi'sol'! Wot do you know! A talking horse!" ((Irresistible!)) After he had recovered, we pointed the equine animal in the correct direction, and I - who happened to know that he was running the next day - wished him luck in the fifth. Upon hearing the fifth mentioned, Soda, as we sometimes call him (have to get the Scotch in somewhere. Yuk! Yuk!) again looked longingly at the bottle. I couldn't resist him. "Hoot, man, - but this a drop o' the old stuff. I canna' understand a body that doosna' tak'a'wee drinkie noo and then." He wagged his indicator contentedly, and proceeded to kill the remainder of the Bourbon. He hasn't said a word since. You know, sitting there with my 20/20 blurred to 30/40, I was proud of the pup, and I found after thinking it over that I am more and more inclined to agree with Danner, when he says, "THE MORE I SEE OF PEOPLE, THE MORE I LIKE DOGS." Surely if a soul is a thing of beauty, then the canine race - not the human, was chosen to have them. -----00000----- Why publish such a narrative in a 'zine supposedly devoted to fantasy? Talking dog, - FANTASTIC --- see? PAPER, SCHMAPER! Let's get UNKNOWN WORLDS back!!! Write to Sir Campbell today! Have you noticed that three of the better films of the current crop have been out-and-out fantasies? They are, in order of release: IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN and MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET. don'tmissthemdon'tmissthemdon'tm PAGE 18
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if yer kind had our eyes, and acted as we do, there wud be less strife, and all animal life wud be much the better for it." He thought for a short moment, and then hurried on. "Now dinna misunderstand me, lad," he hastened, "I dinna mean that ye humans should go around sniffing at one anithor's backsides or the like. It wud certainly be undignified, and, I daresay, most repellant in many instances." "Indeed, indeed!" I interjected emphatically. "Nay," he continued "just lurrn to look upon each ithor as we beasties do and teach love o' all without hate and prejudices toward some -- and then, and then only, can ye rightly make a claim o' animal superiority." There was a moment of silence, as I turned this over in my mind. I was touched, and I'm sure I would have become quite Bourbonly sentimental ((ancient gag coming up)) had not a horse named Bourbon, (or something like that) who happened to be passing by, and had seen us through the window, poked his head in and asked directions to the race-track. Goldberg was so surprised he almost knocked the bottle over. "Well, by the ghostio o' Robbie Burns hi'sol'! Wot do you know! A talking horse!" ((Irresistible!)) After he had recovered, we pointed the equine animal in the correct direction, and I - who happened to know that he was running the next day - wished him luck in the fifth. Upon hearing the fifth mentioned, Soda, as we sometimes call him (have to get the Scotch in somewhere. Yuk! Yuk!) again looked longingly at the bottle. I couldn't resist him. "Hoot, man, - but this a drop o' the old stuff. I canna' understand a body that doosna' tak'a'wee drinkie noo and then." He wagged his indicator contentedly, and proceeded to kill the remainder of the Bourbon. He hasn't said a word since. You know, sitting there with my 20/20 blurred to 30/40, I was proud of the pup, and I found after thinking it over that I am more and more inclined to agree with Danner, when he says, "THE MORE I SEE OF PEOPLE, THE MORE I LIKE DOGS." Surely if a soul is a thing of beauty, then the canine race - not the human, was chosen to have them. -----00000----- Why publish such a narrative in a 'zine supposedly devoted to fantasy? Talking dog, - FANTASTIC --- see? PAPER, SCHMAPER! Let's get UNKNOWN WORLDS back!!! Write to Sir Campbell today! Have you noticed that three of the better films of the current crop have been out-and-out fantasies? They are, in order of release: IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN and MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET. don'tmissthemdon'tmissthemdon'tm PAGE 18
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