Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 97: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

BLONDES AND BLEACHERS. “Well, for the Lord’s sake,” growled Sid. “If you can’t, somebody else can. Now, shut up. I mean, keep still.” — I did shut up. I smoothed down my wilted honeydew crépe, took off my torn chiffon hat and sat there like a lamb. But sweet daddy! Inside I was hissing. Here I consent to go with my fiancé to his favorite sport, merely to be with him, and end by getting as much attention as a guy with a sore thumb in a hospital for broken necks. I wade through a subway jam, I brave the terrific heat, I inhale a conglomeration of mixed tobacco smoke that would make a hide factory smell like a breath of spring—all to please one man that don’t even realize I’m present. So I remained, silent and alone with my thoughts, while the little white and gray bugs run around the green field, doing something that evidently meant life and death to ’em and the crowd that watched "em. After what seemed to me a couple of days, the whole grand stand stood up and let out a sigh. I put on my hat and com- menced to wedge through. ‘““ Where are you going?” asked Sid. “Ain’t the game over?” I inquired, weary. “Naw, it’s only the seventh inning.” “Then what are they all standing up for?” “Oh, I don’t know. They always stand up to stretch in the middle of the seventh.” ‘They do?” I returned, sarcastic. ‘‘ Why not the sixth or the eighth? Who told them to stand up the seventh?” ‘“T told you I don’t know,” answered Sid, irritable. ‘‘ Everybody does it hes cause—everybody else does.” “ What a lot of cattle!” I exclaimed in wonder. ‘‘ What a lot of dumb oxes!” The rubes around us delivered me a dirty look and commenced firing back a string of uncomplimentary remarks. “ Do vou hear what them yeggs 1s say- ing, Sid?” I protested. ‘‘ Are you going to see a lady insulted, especially your own fiancée, without knocking some of them nasty safe crackers for a row of gas houses?”’ “Aw, Irene,” he begged. ‘Here, I'll ‘ 127 buy you a soda pop,” he exclaimed with sudden inspiration. ‘‘ Never thought about it before.”’ ‘“T don’t want no soda pop,” I snapped. “In fact, I don’t expect no attention from you at all. Look, the game’s beginning again. Now sit down, deary, and watch it close. You mustn’t miss anything, honey boy. And don’t talk to me. only your promised bride. Talk to your cunning little new friends sitting all around you—that handsome gentleman that give you the loan of his pencil so polite. Maybe he’ll Jend you a puff on that high priced cheroot he’s smoking right in my face. Or how about your friend there with the lav- ender shirt? You seemed kind of intimate with him. Oh, no, don’t you bother none about me. I’m all right. I’m perfectly all right.” “Now, listen, honey,” he began, but a sudden roar drowned him out. ‘“A homer!” he yelled, jumping up with the rest. ‘““A homer! The Babe! Wowie, that ties it! Oh, you kid, Babe! Atta boy!” And he forgot all about me. Somehow I managed to wade through the home-going crowds without falling in my tracks and finally dropped breathless on the home steps, feeling like the charge of the Light Brigade. “See you to-night, honey girl,” said Sid. ‘ Great game, wasn’t it? Glad it didn’t end in a tie.” “Yes,” I remarked dryly. little game of love right here ain’t going to end in no tie, either.” A lump choked in my throat, but I swal- lowed it down and went on with my cus- tomary poise. ‘“ Maybe I don’t know much about base- ball, but I Jearned enough this afternoon to inform you that you are out, boy. You— are—out! So go chase some other chicken. Yowre not going to catch this foul. I’m going where my curves will be appreciated. Here, take your diamond and let’s see you make a home run.” ‘“Trene, what are you driving at?” ‘Merely this—that our engagement is coming to a short stop. I’m giving you up, kiddo, and I don’t consider I’m making no sacrifice, either.” oO GCOMIGIOOKSACO After all, nr *“ And this.