The producers news. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1918-1937, 1930-05-02
Cured By a Quack

Bills Place, an old-fashioned
speakeasy with well-stocked
free-lunch counter, where they
sampled the products of the phil
anthropic bootleggers and blessed
their stars for living in a free
country.
Johnny, like most people whose
ambitions in life are thwarted bv
seemingly insurmountable oh
stacles and find themselves an
preaching physical decline without
having accomplished ANYTHING
worth while, INDUCED in good
deal of day dreaming. In the mel
low warmth Of the speakeasy, with
couple of whiskeys roaming thru
his blood he would conjure up vi
sions of future success that would
keep him happy until the cool air
of Madison street brought him
back to reality. Exaltation would
then give way to dependency.
On his way home from work one
evening a shabby Individual thrust
a leaflet into his hand. He put it
in his pocket automatically and
paid no further attention to it UNI
til he was undressing for bed.
Johnny took off his overcoat
and tossed it carelessly over the
back of chair. The rest of his
clothing found Judgement in vari-
Gus parts Of the room. He got
into his pajamas and rolled into
bed. He turned on the reading
light over his pillow and then dis
covered that he had forgotten to
place the Tribune conveniently
near the bed within reach. With
curse he got up and extracted
the paper from his overcoat poe
ket. The leaflet he had received
from the shabby person got stuck
in a corner of the paper and
caught his attention. "a Warn
ing!" in bold type stood out like
a death sentence from the top of
the leaflet.
whats this faker excited
about ?" unused Johnny as he
crumpled up the leaflet and shot
it into the waste basket. He would
read himself to sleep with the aio
of the Tribune. He shrugged his
shoulders and was about to droI
into bed when he happened tc
glance in the mirror. What he
saw there did not contribute to his
peace of mind.
For the first time he noticed
that his face showed the signs Of
old age. His hair was gray but
that didn't bother him much. i
was a hereditary trait. But his
eyes were getting baggy and those
wrinkles in the back of his neck
Only thirty-five and getting old
Nothing accomplished. Rewriting
news day after day. Getting al
occasional kick out of a snapp!
headline. Pleasant evenings a
Bills Place, tho he had to indulge
in a lot of internal lying to as
suage his disgruntled ego. We'll
what's the use in worrying? Ill
could be worse. What the devil di'
he want to accomplish anyhow
He could not think of anything II
particular he would like to be
Perhaps a novelist! He woul,
like to make money and travel
Just now he would go to bed AM
read the news-murders, divorc
scandals, political scandals, finanl
cial scandals, strikes, little coloni
wars and rumours of a worl
war.
On his way to bed he bange
his toe against the waste baske
and toppled it over. With mui
fled oath he stopped down to pic
up the scraps of paper that wer
ON the floor. There was tn
crumpled leaflet. He looked
it again, flattened it out and too
II to bed with him. He would Sc
! what the darned thing had to sa,
No sooner had he glanced ov'
; the first lines than he curse
, himself for not having left 1t
. the wastebasket. Johnny's favo
iteway of overcoming obstacles
4 life was to dodge them. Here
D was reading leaflet that book'
. him for almost every disease
a the medical catalogue outside
exczema. Yet he could not for u
. life of him take his eyes off u
4 Internal tract.
{ 1t started out with a generol
!, compliment to the standing OF l
O'Toole as a practitioner in t
y art of healing human beings
4 natural" methods. Medical dc
tors were branded as poisone
and surgeons were given stan
ing somewhat lower than state e
: ecutioners.