Screenland (Nov 1938-Apr 1939)

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or hey Just Kids? have his breakfast in bed. Bing finally had to go in and spank him. As Bing left, the nurse said, 'I guess you'll get up now, all right' and our Mr. Gary said, 'I don't know whether I will or not.' Bing heard him and came back into the room. Gary jumped out of bed like he'd been shot but he's been sulking ever since." About this time Gary, eldest son and heir of Bing, made his appearance, resplendent in white flannels and a white reefer with a red anchor on the sleeve. As we left the house and approached my jalopy he drew his sleeve across the fender. "Don't do that, Gary," I cautioned him. "I haven't a chauffeur like Ted to keep my car clean, and you'll get dirty." "I know," he conceded, giving it a closer inspection. You'll find a clue in this ingratiating article, which portrays stellar off-spring as real youngsters rather than miniature celebrities on parade By S. R. Mook ("Mookie") have used her ole sleeve 'til morning. Had to wake me up !" We drove along in preoccupied silence for a few minutes. As we swung out of the drive from the Lakeside Golf Club on to Dark Canyon road, Gary cast a speculative eye at the mountains. "Hey, Rick," he observed, "we ought to climb those hills some day. Mookie can come, too, and we'll take our lunch and have a picnic. Then we won't have to take a nap, either." Ricky turned to me. "Are there snakes up there?" he asked cautiously. "I'm afraid so," I tried to discourage them. "Big ones." "Oh !" There was silence for a minute and then he brightened. "Well, I can take my gun along and — " "I'll take my tommyhawk," Gary amended. "No!" Ricky bellowed. "I'll take my tommyhawk. We can take Sam (the Arlen (Please turn to page 88) i> :'^vU^:.-. "It's as dirty as my Aunt Kata's." I hadn't seen him in sometime so, as we started off, he regaled me with an account of his domestic difficulties. "Have you been able to swing that breakfast-in-bed business yet?" I inquired sympathetically. "No," he retorted bluntly, "and I don't think I ever will, either. It's a shame, too," he went on gloomily, "because I don't sleep very well at night." "That's bad," I encouraged him. "What seems to be the trouble ?" "Oh," disgustedly, "Eve (his nurse) keeps waking me up all night long going through my room after light bulbs and things. The other day I accidentally hid her handkerchiefs in my drawer and in the middle of the night when her nose started running she had to wake me up looking for the ole things. I guess," he finished aggrievedly, "she couldn't 40 65