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Page 28 text:
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just transferred from another train. That first part of the trip was filled with a variety of scenes and experiences, many of which seemed strange and unreal. Gal- loping alongside of the train on a magnifi- cent white stallion, was Hopalong Harlan, the pride of the Texas prairie. His par- ticiples were dangling from the saddle, while he frantically tried to mend a split infinitive. As the line of cars sped by the horseman, the passengers could hear him shouting, and although the words were un- intelligible, they could make out the phrase incendiary bomb. The engineer slowed down as the train passed through a little Indian village. In the early dusk, the tourists could see a medicine man, Dr. Lonesome Levi, sitting before his tepee and drawing strange sym- bols in the sand: X A dy dx S L »; but these were promptly forgotten by the gang in the coach. At one point in the trip, the monotony was temporarily relieved when a tall, paunchy man entrained and, while perspir- ing profusely, harangued the stupefied audience on the philosophy of St. Thomas Aquinas. Lothario Luthin, as the traveling evangelist called himself, didn ' t stay long. When the fellows fled to the parlor car for refuge, he gave up in disgust and hopped off the train as it slowed down for a curve. Soon after this incident, a travelling show got on board, and offered to entertain the weary throng. Best part of the act was the Amazing Anzelmi, Master Magician. From water he produced wine, and vice-versa. With a wave of his hand he brought forth explosions and lightning flashes, and kept the spectators thoroughly absorbed. When the more boisterous of the onlookers got out of control, the bouncer and muscle-man for the show, H. J. Amsterdam, reduced their excess pounds to grains without showing any scruples. This show was sponsored by Whimsical Wimmer, salesman of Wimmer ' s Panacea, a secret formula handed down from Claudius Q. Galen. It was a guaran- teed cure for corns, callouses, common colds, chilblains, catarrh, chronic colitis, cataleptic convulsions and cardiac collapse. After the performance, Calm Carter showed the prospective buyers of this cure-all many of the details of its manufacture, complete with chemical equations. Just about this time, the conductor came by and punched everybody ' s tickets. This marked the end of the first leg of the journey. Early the following morning, while the tired voyagers were still asleep, a sharp report rent the air. As bleary eyes opened and heads turned, the sound was repeated, and there in the middle of the car stood Leering Liberman, his long,snake-like whip raised again. When everyone ' s attention was finally focused on the newcomer, he started ranting and raving at the cowed assemblage. He analyzed their characters quantitatively and qualitatively, and when one poor unfortunate began to doze c again, the Master gave his 20 lashes with a length of Bunsen tubing, till the poor wretch reached his end-point and changed colors. A bustling character elbowed his way down the aisle toward the control board. Then he proceeded to play with the buttons, causing panels to slide, windows to open, steel shutters to clang and lights to flicker, all the while mumbling meaningless phrases in a New England accent. As they, led him away still struggling, he kept shrieking, But I tell you that I ' m Fearsome Farwell. After this interlude, the ravenous horde descended on the dining car for breakfast. The smiling head-waiter eloquently ex- plained, in polysyllabic words, the inner- most secrets of the flowers adorning the tables. If the service isn ' t just right, he said, one finger raised in the air, just call on Frank Pokorny. On looking at the menu, one of the diners let out a surprised cry, But this is in Ger- man! The waiter, an obliging chap named 24
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Page 27 text:
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CLASS HISTDHY Early one September morn in 1941, about 45 assorted boys and girls boarded a sleek, new streamliner at the 68th Street Station, for a fast trip to Graduation. The scheduled running time was four years. Before the passengers had time to relax, the ticket agent, a flint-eyed person named Pritchard, was around to collect the fare. As they settled down to enjoy the trip, the group looked around and took stock of their fellow passengers. The studious looking fellow in the corner engrossed in a book was Stew Kaplan. The book that he seemed to be memorizing was The Art of Seduction in Sex Easy Les- sons. Next to Stew sat a big guy with his eyes bulging as he ran them rapidly over the pages of a Fantastic Story magazine. Art Borden ' s the name, he said, but Arty to my friends. The train was just beginning to roll out of the station, when a sleepy looking and somewhat breathless character dashed up and hopped on the rear platform. Paul Glazer, he gasped between breaths, I guess I ' m a little late. One little fellow kept pacing nervously up and down the aisle. He must have been afraid that he would never reach his destination for he kept looking out the window and asking everybody, Are we almost there yet. With a winsome smile, he introduced him- self, Mr. James J. Tobin. The Dapper Dan sitting near the window, who kept straight- ening his tie, had the monogram E. K. on his valise, but he introduced himself simply as Eddie. He soon struck up a conversation with the wavy-haired boy sitting next to him, Marty Margolis. The peace was shattered by a deafening roar from the platform that had all the ear- marks of a political discussion. Look, Berger, a stentorian voice bellowed out, I don ' t care how many . . . Take it easy Dinerman, counseled the youthful looking Harry Hill. Okay, Harry, he replied, then turning to a fellow adjusting his garters, What do you think. Herb? I think that if we don ' t quiet down, we ' ll wake Tabach over there, Herb Halpern replied, pointing to the chubby youngster peacefully sleeping with his head on his fist. Sitting next to the corpulent slumberer was a quiet fellow engrossed in a White Plains newspaper, who answered to the name of Al. No train trip is complete without a card game — nor was this one any exception. There were six passengers already aboard when the train pulled in at the 68th Street Station — Hank Greenberg, Sonny Kaner, Protopapas, Starkman, Saffer, and Maurice (Cugat) Zolkower. Hank lost no time in starting up a pinochle game with Max Wise and Rosy. It seemed the trip had no sooner started, when the train began to slow down and finally came to a stop at station No. 1942, to pick up more passengers. A wave of panic rippled through the car as the first of the passengers entered twirling two pistols, spurs aflashing. The crowd calmed down however, when they learned that Wild Bill Fink was just a drug store cowboy. Behind the cowboy, helping un- tangle him from his spurs was the grinning Ray Weinstein. For the first time, Maxim S. unglued his eyes from the cards, looked at the ankles passing by and let out a long low whistle. The handkerchief that she promptly drop- ped had Selma neatly embroidered in the corner. The two fellows hunting for seats were heatedly discussing baseball. Joe Naka- shian, zestfully chewing on a carrot, was gloating over Bright Boy Gottheim ' s mourn- ful recollections of the Dodger ' s debacle. Just as the newcomers were getting set- tled, three more fellows boarded the train and shook hands all around. George Coutros was the tall, slender, mournful look- ing chap. The boy with the new luggage and carefully waved hair was Harry Row- insky and the third member of the trio was Marty Gale. They explained that they had 23
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