Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

6 "Doc, if you were to go back and be i a king what would that make nic?" He dropped a rope to go straight over to lier, and he took one of her little liands in his. "Listen, honey," he said, with nn- wontcd seriousness, "regardless of what 1 am, you're a queen—my little queen. Hero, there, or anyw liero !" He bccanio suddenly businesslike. "Haven't sold any medicine at any fairs for quite a while," he said. "How does this town look to you for a little tonic?" Rosie glanced up at a ^ign on the van beside the narrow door: "Criminologists and the Police Continually Want Me." "The clerk ot the hotel," she said. " told me that the'-e were three medicine liien in gaol ;,lrcady." "Wliat abo\it this?" suggested Doc. piodueing from a box a sign: " Dr. Droops, Oculist." "Have to have a licence—and that costs five dollars." "That's out!" He tossed the sign back in the box. "Hair straightcncr'/" he inquired. " Not enough coloured people in town." He held up another card, inscribed : "Mind Reading. Fortunes Told. Your Problems Solved." "Okay," nodded Rosie. "Tell their fortunes. That's all right." "Fortunes it shall be, child. There's millions in it—millions!" Always an optimist, Dr. J. Dockweiler Droop ! The card was hung in a promi- nent position, and Dcm; became busy pre- paring for the public, while Rosie vanished into the van. A Good Beginning. THAT morning I he sheriff of Arcadia, a slightly bald and very bulky man, called at a house on the outskirts of (he town, almost large enough to be described as u mansion. His object was to discuss various mat- ters pertaining to law and order with Mr. James William Lowe, a councillor and a man of considerable standing in the community. But iMrs. Lowe, a woman of self-importance, diverted the fonversation the moment she entered the drawing-room. "Sheriff Hopkins." she said impres- .sively, "I iiromised the members of our Social Improvement League that tliis carfiival would operate only undei- our supervision. I insist that you keep the carnival in order. There must be no gambling or fakers permitted on the grounds." "Very good, Mrs. Lowe,' bowed the slieriff. "They must be driven fiom (he town, these fakers and quacks." "Oh, come now, niotlKU," protested JMr. Lowe mildly, "wo uiustn't be too hard on (hem." "I'll handle this in my own way, father." insisted his wife. 'We must protect our \oiuig folks." Mr. I>owe looked at the sheriff, and the sheriff' looked at .Mr. Lowe. The bheritV shrugged his broad shoulders. On a chesterlield near (he grand piauo a black-haired girl who was obviously aware that i he was good-looking \\as powdering her little nose, iind beside iior loimged the son of the house, a tall young man with an unalfected manner, intelligent brown eyes and a h'ght- hearted nature. The girl was Ma<l(5line van Dorn, and it -was her ambidon (o marry Billy Lowe. She lookeil .acro<!S at liis jjiothcr, and she said impishly: ■''•'.' • '■'■■■•■.'' October IO(li, \'J3\. BOY'S CINEMA "Especially if the term ' young folks ' happens to include Billy Lowe, the ris- ing young lawyer." "Thank you," responded Billy, with a mock bow, " but I assure you that I am quite capable of taking care of myself." "That will do, Billy," said his mother austerely, and turned to the sheriff again. "Wc rely on you," she told him, "to lid the carnival of its undesirable elements." The sheriff nodded and picked up his hat. Mr. Lowe and his wife accom- panied the ofhcial to the front doer, while Billy, leaning down over Made- line, said laughingly : "Let's run down and see this carnival, shall we, before mother takes all the fun out of it?" "Carnivals," scoffed Madeline, "are for children. I'm not in the least inter- ested." "Okay. Then I'll drop you off at your house on my way there." "Thanks, but I'll stay here. I want to talk to your mother." "I'm off, then." he informed her. "'Bye !" And he disappeared to get out his (wo-seater, in which he niade for the fair-ground. By this time Doe, from the end of his van, was addressing a crowd that increased in size every minute, while Rosie, in her gipsy costume, stood beside him. " Now, folks," boomed Doc, " we're just starting—just commencing. Come up a little closer, we mustn't block the sidewalk." The crowd squeezed forward. "That's fine," approved Doc. "And now-, ladies and gentlemen, behold (he eighth and ninth wonders of the world 1 The professor sees the past and the future, identifies articles, calls your full name, solves your troubles, also repairs mctor-cycles. Ha, ha ! Pardon me, that was last week ! "And now-, folks, for a demonstration you will never forget. The young lady will blindfold herself, and I will (hen select from among you articles at ran- dom, and with the aid of mental tele- pathy and thought-waves I will trans- fer the inferma(ion to the blindfolded mademoiselle. Are you ready?" He handed Rosie a black handkerchief which she tied round her head, -covering her, eyes, while he stepped down amongst the interested onlookers. Rosie annoimced that she was ready, and he reached out a hand and touched a gold pin projecting from a hideous (ie worn hy a .sniggering man badly in need of a shave. "I have my hand on an article here, mademoiselle," he announced. "What is it? Don't let it stick .you." "It's a pin." said Rosie. . "A pin," said Doc. "But I'haven't collared it." "It's a tie-pin," said Rosie. "Right!" cried Doc. "The young lady is right. She's always right !" Doc was, as usual, smoking a cigar. Ho sniffed the air, in which he detected an offensive aroma. An ugly little man. with a white wai:-tcoa( and a remark- ably scraggy neck, was smoking a per- fectly dreadful cigar in his immediate vicinit,v. Without the slightest cere- mony Doe plunged his hand into a pocket of the white waistcoat and fished out a cheap watch. "Another article, niadeinoiselle," he said loudlv, "and I ask you to name it." Rosie hesitated, raised her hands. " Watch out, and .you can't go wrong!"' .;; , •_ "It's a watob," decided.llosie. Every Tuesday "Right! The young lady is rigiit ! She's always right !" Puffing at his cigar, he restored tho watch and moved away to an enormous man from whoso waistcoat pocket he removed a pencif. Rosie, with his artful aid, decided that it was a fountain- pen, whereat Doc winced. "Come, come," he exclaimed im- patiently, "get this right. Do you have to be led ?" "It's a pencil." There came a burst of applause, and Doc proceeded from one onlooker to another, selecting in turn some candy from a small girl and an umbrella from a fat woman. "And now, folks," he said, after satis- factory answers had been given to his leading questions by his blindfolded accomplice, "that's just a slight idea of what you can expect on the inside. I shall now step into the big tent and prepare myself for the strenuous ordeal that lies before me." He disappeared into (he newly-erected tent to invest himself in the garments of an Indian seer, complete with turban and a pair of spectacles set in square frames, while Rosie removed the hand- kerchief from her eyes and endeavoured to coax people to have their fortunes told. It was not long before she escorted into the tent a credulous-looking person who had farmer written all over his clothes, and who carried in his hand a low-crowned bowler-hat. "Professor," said Rosie softly, "here's a gentleman who wants to have ' his hand read." ; i'-' Doc looked at the man—and looked into the hat. On its band had been written in ink: "Sam Hall, Rockford." "Come right in and take a seat," wel- comed Doe. " How are things in Rock- ford?" Sam Hall gaped, and seemed half- inclined to run away, but Rosie pro- pelled him to a chair facing a small portable table, and Doc, in his robes, sat down en the other side of it. An upturned metal urn was on the table, and on the urn was a cr.ystal. Rosie disappeared to roimd up other clients. "That's right, sit down, Mr. Hall." said Doc pleasantly. "Or may I call you Sam ?" "Well I'll be duriied !" gasped Sam Hall. "I was never in this town up to about an hour ago, and here you know my name and where I come froni." "A mere bagatelle," declared Doc, airily waving his cigar. "And what is it that's troubling you, Sam?" It appeared that (ho farmer was in love wi(h two women, one not very good-looking, but the richest woman in Rockford, (he other very poor but very beautiful, and the question was, which should he marry. "Why, you marry the good-lockin? girl that is very poor, of course," Doc told him promptly, and jiushed across to him a pencil and a notepad. " What do you want me to write ?** inquired Sam Hall. "The name and address of the other girl. That will be two dollars, please." The Sheriff Intrudes. TMK client, patient, or customer who followed Sam Hall was a particu- larly harassed-looking man, who, blinked at the charts on (he canvas walls of (he tent, blinked at Doc, and nervously announced (hat his name was., Oberdorf—Adolf Oberdorf. ': Ta the noise of a hurdy-gurdy which; an Italian had begun to grind outside^ the tent. Doc said sympathetically: