Archive for January 17, 2022

Page Seventeen III: The End of Innocence

Posted in FILM, literature with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 17, 2022 by dcairns

“Slaver, pound to a penny!” yells our young Nelson. “Bosun, clear away the gun. Tomkins, open the arms chest! Sir Harry, I’d be obliged if your fellows would take station two either side, ready to fire if need be. Tally-ho!” And he seized the wheel while his engineer thundered his motor and our little sloop fairly flew over the water. Ballantyne’s dozen tars were diving below deck and emerging with pieces and cutlasses, and I directed my sergeant to place his fellows at the rail as requested, and shocked his military soul by countermanding his order to them to put on their hats and coats. You shoot straighter in shirt sleeves when there’s an African sun blazing down on you.

Sir Harry leaned his head close to Faulks’ ear and whispered: “Keep looking at it for as long as you can, old man. Try not to let it get away.” Then in his normal, conversational tone, which was a kind of cheerful roar, he spoke to Archer: “Seems you have a bit of a sticky problem here, what?”

‘Adzooks!’ exclaimed the bailiff–‘sure Harry Wakefield, the nattiest lad at Whitson Tryste, Wooler Fair, Carlisle Sands, or Stagshaw Bank, is not going to show white feather? Ah, this comes of living so long with kilts and bonnets–men forget the use of their daddles.’

The child disdained to reply; she had heard it too often. She waited patiently until she had been tucked, clean and sweet-smelling, into a white-painted crib. Then she favored her mother with a smile that inevitably made her mother think of the sun bursting into a rosy pre-dawn. She remembered Hank’s reaction to the color pictures of his beautiful daughter, and with the thought, realized how late it was.

Well, the idea of Harry the Horse and Spanish John and Little Isadore looking for Judge Goldfobber sounds somewhat alarming to me, and I figure maybe the job Judge Goldfobber gives them turns out bad and they wish to take Judge Goldfobber apart, but the next minute Harry says to me like this:

The day ended when the light became yellow. The cast was given the call for next day and dismissed. Griffith would go this office to meet with Frank Woods, Albert Banzhaf (his lawyer), someone named Harry Aitken, who had something to do with money, and another named J.A. Barry, who seemed to be a manager of sorts. These were not secret, closed-door meetings; they were merely private business meetings. Nobody snooped or listened at doorways. Privacy was privacy, not to be invaded. What they discussed and what they planned was their business. In fact, I learned very one never to listen to secrets of any kind. Then, if the matter ever became public, it could never be traced to me. So I added one extra beatitude to the Biblical list: blessed are the ignorant, for they shall never be called to account.

Ruth Bryan Owen, who was the Ambassador to Sweden or Norway or something, and Mr. And Mrs. Harry Winston were there too. Jim was very fond of Mrs. Winston. As for the rest of the people, although it was a very small group, I didn’t even know their names. I wasn’t interested in them one bit. But I knew that they were supposed to be the social elite of Miami.

Seven passages with seven men called Harry from seven books stacked in a teetering pile with many others by my armchair.

Flashman on the March by George MacDonald Fraser; ⤝✤⤞ by Gahan Wilson, from Again, Dangerous Visions Book 2 edited by Harlan Ellison; The Two Drovers by Sir Walter Scott, from Selected English Short Stories (Nineteenth Century); That Only a Mother by Judith Merrill from Science Fiction Hall of Fame II edited by Robert Silverberg; Breach of Promise from Runyon on Broadway by Damon Runyon; Adventures with D.W. Griffith by Karl Brown; The Times We Had: Life with William Randolph Heart by Marion Davies.