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Shangri-LA, issue 4, January-February 1948
Page 4
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"When dogs have language, Ep," said he, "they will have most of what man has, haven't I taught that?" "You have," wrote Ep. The Professor smiled, but not with his eyes, because he knew what went on in the world outside of the campus. "I should like to be there, Ep," was all he said. "What have you planned?" But Ep wrote only "Every dog has his day," for They liked Their pun, nor was he destroyed by Hoge because the Professor knew that when the big night came it wouldn't be Ep's fault. The darkness did come. It was fire and madness, and it came from Them, to begin with, and Them it destroyed in agony, in murderous flame, nor could the sun be seen. Two of the last were Standish and Professor Hoge. They stood with Ep on the bridge amid the ruins of the campus of UCLA to watch the good red brick become rubble and saw flames on the hills around them and the flames below them out towards the sea. They stood on the bridge and watched their fragment of world vanish. Standish had his bottle. He didn't understand, because he had his bottle, and it was good whiskey, the best that money had once bought. He would not understand, but he would not feel death because of the bottle. He swayed to Ep, and his knees sagged. "You....devil," he gasped. That was all he comprehended, and that was his hail and farewell. He said no more as death swallowed him up. The Professor brushed the fallen ashes from his coat and said, "To think that all of the centuries that men domesticated dogs it was only to the end of producing a mutation that would succeed him. Yet -- justice. You're the closest animal to man, and you've earned this burnt cinder, Ep." Nor did he apologize for Them nor believe that Ep would do better because They were like that. "I only wish," and his eyes pleaded with the red sky, "that I could see it." But there was no answer. "Good luck, Ep," he said. Then Ep went to his prepared place and put his plan into operation. And now that They're gone, because of Their atom, we preach against Their wars and Their hate. We honor Ep, Ep the magnificent, Tme's Favored One Chief of the Age, he who leads us from sunset to dawn. And that's the end of my sermon. A bulldog will pass among you to take up the collection. T H E E N D -- 4 -
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"When dogs have language, Ep," said he, "they will have most of what man has, haven't I taught that?" "You have," wrote Ep. The Professor smiled, but not with his eyes, because he knew what went on in the world outside of the campus. "I should like to be there, Ep," was all he said. "What have you planned?" But Ep wrote only "Every dog has his day," for They liked Their pun, nor was he destroyed by Hoge because the Professor knew that when the big night came it wouldn't be Ep's fault. The darkness did come. It was fire and madness, and it came from Them, to begin with, and Them it destroyed in agony, in murderous flame, nor could the sun be seen. Two of the last were Standish and Professor Hoge. They stood with Ep on the bridge amid the ruins of the campus of UCLA to watch the good red brick become rubble and saw flames on the hills around them and the flames below them out towards the sea. They stood on the bridge and watched their fragment of world vanish. Standish had his bottle. He didn't understand, because he had his bottle, and it was good whiskey, the best that money had once bought. He would not understand, but he would not feel death because of the bottle. He swayed to Ep, and his knees sagged. "You....devil," he gasped. That was all he comprehended, and that was his hail and farewell. He said no more as death swallowed him up. The Professor brushed the fallen ashes from his coat and said, "To think that all of the centuries that men domesticated dogs it was only to the end of producing a mutation that would succeed him. Yet -- justice. You're the closest animal to man, and you've earned this burnt cinder, Ep." Nor did he apologize for Them nor believe that Ep would do better because They were like that. "I only wish," and his eyes pleaded with the red sky, "that I could see it." But there was no answer. "Good luck, Ep," he said. Then Ep went to his prepared place and put his plan into operation. And now that They're gone, because of Their atom, we preach against Their wars and Their hate. We honor Ep, Ep the magnificent, Tme's Favored One Chief of the Age, he who leads us from sunset to dawn. And that's the end of my sermon. A bulldog will pass among you to take up the collection. T H E E N D -- 4 -
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