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U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [381]

By Root 31447 0

that was split down the back.

She couldn't stop drinking or putting her arms

round the neck of the nearest young man, if she got any cash she threw a party or gave it away.

She tried to drown herself but an English naval

officer pul ed her out of the moonlit Mediterranean. One day at a little restaurant at Golfe Juan she

picked up a goodlooking young wop who kept a garage and drove a little Bugatti racer. Saying that she might want to buy the car, she

made him go to her studio to take her out for a ride; her friends didn't want her to go, said he was

nothing but a mechanic, she insisted, she'd had a few drinks (there was nothing left she cared for in the world but a few drinks and a goodlooking young man); she got in beside him and

she threw her heavilyfringed scarf round her neck

with a big sweep she had and

turned back and said,

with the strong California accent her French,

never lost:

Adieu, mes amis, je vais à la gloire.

The mechanic put his car in gear and started.

-161-The heavy trailing scarf caught in a wheel, wound tight. Her head was wrenched against the side of the car. The car stopped instantly; her neck was broken, her nose crushed, Isadora was dead.

NEWSREEL LIII

Bye bye blackbird

ARE YOU NEW YORK'S MOST BEAUTIFUL

GIRL STENOGRAPHER?

No one here can love and understand me

Oh what hard luck stories they all hand me

BRITAIN DECIDES TO GO IT ALONE

you too can quickly learn dancing at home without music and without a partner . . . produces the same results as an experienced masseur only quicker, easier and less expensive. Remember only marriageable men in the ful possession of unusual physical strength wil be accepted as the Graphic Apol os

Make my bed and light the light

I'l arrive late to-night

WOMAN IN HOME SHOT AS BURGLAR

Grand Duke Here to Enjoy Himself

ECLIPSE FOUR SECONDS LATE

Downtown Gazers See Corona

others are more dressy being made of rich ottoman silks, heavy satins, silk crepe or côte de cheval with ornamentation of ostrich perhaps

MAD DOG PANIC IN PENN STATION

-162UNHAPPY WIFE TRIES TO DIE

the richly blended beauty of the finish, both interior and exterior, can come only from the hand of an artist working towards an ideal. Substitutes good normal solid tissue for that disfiguring fat. He touches every point in the entire compass of human need. It may look a little foolish in print but he can show you how to grow brains. If you are a victim of physical il -being he can liberate you from pain. He can show you how to dissolve marital or conjugal problems. He is an expert in matters of sex

Blackbird bye bye

SKYSCRAPERS BLINK ON EMPTY

STREETS

it was a very languid, a very pink and white Peggy Joyce in a very pink and white boudoir who held out a smal white hand

MARGO DOWLING

When Margie got big enough she used to go across to the station to meet Fred with a lantern dark winter nights when he was expected to be getting home from the city on the nine fourteen. Margie was very little for her age, Agnes used to say, but her red broadcloth coat with the fleece col ar tickly round her ears was too smal for her al the same, and left her chapped wrists out nights when the sleety wind whipped round the corner of the station and the wire handle of the heavy lantern cut cold into her hand. Always she went with a chil creeping down her spine and in her hands and feet for fear Fred wouldn't be himself and would lurch and stumble the way he some-times did and be so red in the face and talk so awful. Mr. Bemis the stoopshouldered station agent used to kid about it with big Joe Hines the sectionhand who was often put--163-tering around in the station at traintime, and Margie would stand outside in order not to listen to them saying,

"Wel , here's bettin' Fred Dowlin' comes in stinkin' again tonight." It was when he was that way that he needed Margie and the lantern on account of the plankwalk over to the house being so narrow and slippery. When she was a very little girl she used to think that it was because he was so tired from the terrible hard work in the city that he walked so funny when he got off the train but by the time she was eight or nine Agnes had told her al about how getting drunk was something men did and that they hadn't ought to. So every night she felt the same awful feeling when she saw the lights of the train coming towards her across the long trestle from Ozone Park.

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