Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

t ico, niul and Every Tuesday "Oh, nolliiiig— nolhiiiR. Nothing at all. You want two on I he tinlo siile?" Mr. Dow V(M'y nc:irly fiownei'i. "I'm II H:irvai(l niiin, Ml.-s Hii^gins," \n\ said wilh (liHin'ty. "No Ilaivaid man wonid su))|iort a loHin from Texas. That's all." "Yes, Mr. Dow." Sylvia turned meekly towards tlio door; liut Ihrre lii'i- progress was arrested. "One moment!" c:illi'il her employer, rising to his feet.. "What aliout (lie lights to-night?'' "I have your seals—the tickets are at (ho l)ox-ofFiro." "Tlianii you. Ar^d—or—Mi.ss Uiggins- lioekey gaiiio to-morrow?" "You'll ho sitting riyht on the Mr. Dow." Mr. Dow beamed all over his wide ruddy faee. "Splendid, Miss Higgins," he said, waved a hand in dismissal. In the outer offioe Miss lliggins put on her liat again, hut while she was putting it on a thought struek her and she dialled a nuiTilier on the telephone (hat was on her own desk. As a result, a hell rang in (he living-room of a fh'st-floor flat in an unpretentious apartment- house in N'ort.h lOnd Avemie, the Bronx. Mrs. Emma Higgins. a plump and eomely widow, nearer si.xty tlian lif(y, yet without a grey hair in her brown head, was busy in the kitoher\ of the flat, but she emerged from it into tlie living-room, wiping her hands on her apron, and went to the telephone that had inteirupted her labours. "Always the way," she complained. "Hallo!'' "Mother," said Sylvia's excited voice in lier oar. "I simply liatl to call you. The most wonderful thing has happened ! Gale is going to play McKiriley!" "Gale—McKinley?" echoed !Mrs. Higgins impatiently. "Sylvia, l')n cooking something. I'm bLisy. What are you (alking about?" "The school in Texas that Uncle Fiank went to," explained Sylvia. "Y'on remember?" "And you called me to tell me that?" Like all good cooks, Mrs. Higgins objected very strongly to being called away from the kitchen when she was busy there. To add BOY'S CINEMA to her umioyati'-e, (he doorbell begun to ring noisily. "Wait a miiuife, Sylvia," she .said, and laid the iustrum<'n( on its side to go to the door. Jnto the living room, as she opened the door, darted a twelve-year old boy, daik haired, and eviMi niore excised than Sylvia, lie had an evening paper in his haiuls, and he tried to (haw her attention to an item in it. ISut she had lu) desiiv-' to' see the item. "Haven't you a key?" shc> admonished. "I lost il. mom," confessed the boy. "Gale's picked McKinley !" Mis. Higgins went back to the (elephonc, but lu'r small son followed her. "All right, Sylvia," said she. "Gee, mom," pro(es(ed (he boy, "you don't understand. McKinley's the school Uncle Frank went (o, and they're coniin' out here. Will he bo glad?" "Billy, slop i(!" Mrs. Higgins spoke again into (he telephone. "I'm going to hang up, Sylvia, before I lose my mind. Come right home. Good-bye, dear." The teleiihone crashed on to its plunger. "Now will you tell me what all this non- sense is about?" Mrs. Higgins turned (o demand of her hovering boy. "I've been dying to," was the shrill re- sponse. "Gale has picked McKinley!" "Yes, I know— fo what?" "Mom!" "What?" . "You said, '.so what?' Y'ou never let me say, ' so w hat ? ' " "I said il,' retorted Mrs. Higgins. on her way back to the kitchen, "and I'll say it again. When you're a parent you can say anything you like. My home turned upside down by a football game!" She re-entered the kitchen and went to an oven in which a cake was baking; but Billy followed her to say: "This is dift'erent. mom. Uncle Frank did go to McKinley, didn't ho?" "Yes." She ascertained that the cake was progressing favourably and closed the oven door. " But college diplomas don't mean much these days," she added bitterly. "He can throw a football!" cried Billy. "He dici go to college." said Mrs. Higgins, pursuing her own train of thought. "He might e better oft if he hadn't." "Bov will he be happv when he finds out' I'm Loiu to II 11 him ' 3 "Billy, coino bu.'k at once! What did I tell you about dislui'l)ing Unolo Frank?" Billy s(oi)jiod hhort and turned to exfHMt- tulate. "But he'll want In know, mom. You don't know what college is like. \'oii, go to one, and then you ^tay soila goofy about It for llio rest of your life." "t)h, will you go out and Jiliiy bi'fnru I go goofy myself?" UNCLE FRANK HEARS THE NEWS BILI.N' was silling (|iiielly iit tlir> (able in the living room, gloating over the news in the (nening |»aper, when Sylvia arrivi-d home and opened the door with her latch- ■key. But he was o(V liis chair (ho instant ho saw her. "Hi, sis, did you hear the big news?" he cried. "Ye.s." she nodded, "ilave you (old Undo Frank?" "No, mom wouldn't let mc. You know her!" Mrs. Higgins api)eared from the kitchen to lay the table, and Milly grabbed hi.s paper. "You can sit right down, Sylvia," Mrs. Higgins informed lier daughter. "Supper's ready." "Isn't it great. Sylvia?" piped Billy. "I'll say it is." confirmed Sylvia, divesting herself of her hat and coat. Mrs. Higgins went r)H' to a bod room door and rapped on it. "Six o'clock, Fiauk!" she called out. "Thank , jMunia," responded a sleepy voice ^from within. Billy sei/.<'d the o[)|Kut unity provided by his mother's absence to ask Sylvia if she thought Uncle P'rauk would really care. "Of course he will," was the emphatic reply. "But mom seems to think " "Billy!" Mrs. Higgins was back. "Were you saying something?" 'Just expressing an opinion, mom." "How would you like to express your opinions oi; an empty stomach?" "I wouldn't." "Very well, then!" Abbott declared heartily If you'll just step into my office we'll build three seats for you right on the goal-posts ! " February lOtli, IWO.