Page by Page Books
Read Books Online, for Free
Dawn O'Hara Edna Ferber

Blackie's Philosophy

Page 6 of 7

Table Of Contents: Dawn O'Hara

Previous Page

Next Page

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

More Books

More by this Author

"Von Gerhard!" I repeated, startled. "Do you know him?"

"Well, he ain't braggin' about it none," Blackie admitted. "Von Gerhard, he told me I had about five years or so t' live, about two, three years ago. He don't approve of me. Pried into my private life, old Von Gerhard did, somethin' scand'lous. I had sort of went to pieces about that time, and I went t' him to be patched up. He thumps me fore 'an' aft, firing a volley of questions, lookin' up the roof of m' mouth, and squintin' at m' finger nails an' teeth like I was a prize horse for sale. Then he sits still, lookin' at me for about half a minute, till I begin t' feel uncomfortable. Then he says, slow: `Young man, how old are you?'

"`O, twenty-eight or so,' I says, airy.

"`My Gawd!' said he. `You've crammed twice those years into your life, and you'll have to pay for it. Now you listen t' me. You got t' quit workin', an' smokin', and get away from this. Take a ocean voyage,' he says, `an' try to get four hours sleep a night, anyway.'

We have hundreds more books for your enjoyment. Read them all!

"Well say, mother she was scared green. So I tucked her under m' arm, and we hit it up across the ocean. Went t' Germany, knowin' that it would feel homelike there, an' we took in all the swell baden, and chased up the Jungfrau -- sa-a-ay, that's a classy little mountain, that Jungfrau. Mother, she had some swell time I guess. She never set down except for meals, and she wrote picture postals like mad. But sa-a-ay, girl, was I lonesome! Maybe that trip done me good. Anyway, I'm livin' yet. I stuck it out for four months, an' that ain't so rotten for a guy who just grew up on printer's ink ever since he was old enough to hold a bunch of papers under his arm. Well, one day mother an' me was sittin' out on one of them veranda cafes they run to over there, w'en somebody hits me a crack on the shoulder, an' there stands old Ryan who used t' do A. P. here. He was foreign correspondent for some big New York syndicate papers over there.

"`Well if it ain't Blackie!' he says. `What in Sam Hill are you doing out of your own cell when Milwaukee's just got four more games t' win the pennant?'

"Sa-a-a-ay, girl, w'en I got through huggin' him around the neck an' buyin' him drinks I knew it was me for the big ship. `Mother,' I says, `if you got anybody on your mind that you neglected t' send picture postals to, now's' your last chance. 'F I got to die I'm going out with m' scissors in one mitt, and m' trusty paste-pot by m' side!' An' we hits it up for old Milwaukee. I ain't been away since, except w'en I was out with the ball team, sending in sportin' extry dope for the pink sheet. The last time I was in at Baumbach's in comes Von Gerhard an'--"

"Who are Baumbach's?" I interrupted.

Page 6 of 7 Previous Page   Next Page
Who's On Your Reading List?
Read Classic Books Online for Free at
Page by Page Books.TM
Dawn O'Hara
Edna Ferber

Home | More Books | About Us | Copyright 2004