Elizabeth Nowell

114 EAST 56th STREET
NEW YORK

AUTHORS' REPRESENTATIVE

WICKERSHAM 2-1262

July 28, 1941.

Dear Mr. Palmer:

I have your letter of July 24th with regard to
Daniel Fuchs' "Okay Mr. Pappendass Okay", and was
glad to hear that your decision was "yes". However,
in view of the fact that Miss Nowell (Mrs. Perkins now)
will probably be travelling all over the U.S. for
I don't know-how-long, and since the business will be
wound up by the 31st of July, I thought it best to
communicate with Mr. Fuchs and explain the matter to
him. I asked him to write you direct, and if he should
decide to let you have it, he will undoubtedly give
you the address to which the check should eventually
be sent. Miss Nowell, of course, is still entitled
to her commission of 10%. Therefore, I'd suggest that
when the time comes to make payment, that you deduct
her commission and send it to her, as follows:

Mrs. Charles Perkins
% Mrs. Howland Nowell
11 Elm Street
South Dartmouth, Mass.

On the other hand, if Mr. Fuchs should decide that
he would like to have more immediate publication, he
will notify you, in which case he will, I suppose, ask
you to return the script direct to him.

I hope the above arrangement will meet with your satisfaction.

ek

Mr. J.E.Palmer
Southern Review

-2-

"I don't know yet," Howard said.

"All right," Mr. Pappendass said to the boy. "Wait outside. If there's an answer, he'll call you."

The boss then withdrew so that Howard could read his letter in privacy.

My b.f. my dear tried and true b.f. my One and Only. According to you you hold me in such high and mighty regard verily you can bust. Oh yes. Ha. Ha. Ha. Dont make me laugh. Listen to me you gay deciever (that is how you think you are - a gay deciever) I want you to realize one single fact - this is one heart you did NOT break in your philanderings understand? In later life you can tell your freinds - how amusing you see that slim redhead that Terry from the Beauty Parlor - well I broke her heart - well you can say that but it is NOT the truth understand? I should have suspected it - you with your high and mighty aristoccratic ways, your "socalled" shyness - only I am gullable not mean and tough the way you have to be but gullable I am a FOOL but no more understand? Yes you cured me for all time. Now I never want to see you again and that is final. Now I hate you and that is final the last word period.

Howard winced. He closed his eyes and started rubbing them helplessly with his hand. He felt dizzy. The letter made no sense. The first thing that came into his head was to go into the candystore and call up Terry, but then he remembered there were always some guys hanging around there. They'd stand close to the booth and hear every word, especially if he got excited and happened to raise his voice. Howard didn't want the guys on the block to have anything on him to laugh about. He went to the wicker table in the rear of the shop where Pappendass kept a pad of paper. Howard took a pencil out of his pocket and printed on top of a sheet, like a border: WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?

Wham. Zippo. Bang. I am reeling. Listen Terry for Pete sake listen to reason what is this all about? If I did something bad against you if I owe you an apoloxy o.k. I will be the first to offer an apoloxy only first show cause. Only first lets get things straigt and explain it all out. I think I have the right to an explanation. What do you say? O.K.? So the sooner the better Terry pronto please.

He printed three more what's along the bottom, put the letter into an envelope and then went outside to find the boy. As he came back, passing the wall chairs, Toscher suddenly took it into his head to speak up. Howard jumped. He had forgotten all about Peggy's husband.

-3-

"Take the average husband," Toscher was saying, still staring blindly into the mirrors opposite. It was a little weird to see him. He had one hand raised, his finger pointing to the ceiling. "Take the average guy that's married. They go around secretly thinking how nice it would be if their wife suddenly dropped dead of heart failure with none of the blame attaching to themselves and if that's an exaggeration, I'll eat my hat!"

"What's that? What's that?" said Mr. Pappendass.

"What? Oh, what?" Toscher now spoke slowly, stirring himself like a person coming out of a bad dream. "Did I say something? Excuse it. Ignore it. Just thinking out loud...."

Howard went on, moving down to the wicker table where the lights weren't so bright. He sat down and tried to figure out what it might have been that had upset Terry. He searched his mind and searched it but couldn't find a thing. He looked up and saw Mr. Pappendass standing before him.

"Anything wrong?"

"Why, no," Howard said.

"Well, that note. I saw your face go black and gloomy."

"No. Just a note like she always sends me. A note."

"Well, all right," Mr. Pappendass said. "Okay."

The door flew open and Peggy came bustling in. She threw her polo a coat and handbag on the chair, turning her back to her husband as though he wasn't there, but he was already up on his feet, hopping behind her. In another moment the two of them were battling around, the way they always did. They snapped at each other, breaking in, exchanging short scraps, their voices subdued and yet hot and nasty.

"Low class," Pappendass said with regret. "No refinement, no taste, no decency, no nothing. Zero. There you have it."

"Yes," Howard said, distracted. Peggy was one of those skinny little women. There wasn't much to her but she managed to show most of it in the white uniform and short Angora sweater she wore. Howard

-4-

knew she was a restless bundle always looking for trouble and he
realized she could drive a man crazy but he didn't take time now to
worry over Toscher.

"Cat and dog life," Pappendass said. "Like all over in this
cheap section."

"Hey, Pappendass!" Toscher came up suddenly complaining it
was too cold in the barber shop.

"Cut that out," the boss said. "I don't want to hear that
around here."

"No! Give heat! Don't be so stingy with the steam!"

"Now I take that as a personal reflection," Pappendass said,
not letting himself get ruffled. "I maintain a temperature of sixty-
eight minimum and that's warm enough and you know it."

"If it's so warm and I know it, then why do people have to
go around here wearing sweaters?"

"It's not the temperature," the boss said, still calm and
dignified. "It's only a form of exhibition."

"Exhibition?" Toscher said. "What exhibition?"

"You very well know. To attract attention. If it was really cold,
then they would button the sweaters, wouldn't they? If it was the cold,
they would put on something more substantial. Why, those things are
nothing more than an exterior brassiere."

Toscher stood still a moment, thinking it over. "Peggy!" he
shook and went back to her, beginning to fight all over again. "Why
do you have to wear a thing like that? When you go out buying clothes,
you always say it's for me, on account I should be proud when you're
seen with me. Well, if it's all for my benefit, then why do you wear
a get-up like that?"

"Eight years ago I did a bad thing," Peggy said, beginning to
scream, "and you still can't get over it. You got dirty suspicious
thoughts that are unworthy." She picked up her polo coat. "I am
innocent, do you hear? I am strict and innocent and I won't stand here

-5-

defending myself like a criminal. It's insulting!" She banged the door behind her and the shop grew quiet.

Toscher faced the two barbers doubtfully. His legs were apart and he held his elbows high like a prizefighter in the ring who couldn't decide whether to wade in or keep sparring. "Give me a shave, dammit," he said finally and sat down in Howard's chair. "My mind is always working. It never sits still. It's not a good thing, believe me." He lay back and Howard fixed the apron around his throat.

"What the hell are you always hollering about?" Pappendass said. "She's not on the outside meeting strange men. You always know where she is. You're better off than most husbands."

"I'm mentally unwell," Toscher said, broken and apologetic. "My accident. I got hit on the head and ever since then my troubles started. I got peculiar ideas. I got an obsession I'm going to die. I can't sleep. I wake up my wife in the middle of the night and tell her, 'Peggy, I'm dying.' So she rolls over and says, 'Die. I'll find you in the morning.' Well, I don't blame her. She's not mean at heart. She just lets go with a harsh word but she don't mean it. The doctors tell me, 'Go to the movies, read magazines, do something to occupy your mind.' I can't. It's hell..." He stopped talking. Howard, of course, hadn't said a word, depressed and busy wondering about Terry and the mysterious letter. "What am I doing?" Toscher said. "Talking to the wall? Hey, Pappendass, what's the matter with this guy he never has nothing to say?"

"Leave him alone," the boss began but the kid came trotting in at last with the note from Terry.

Howard took it down to the wicker table.

My my how the dear dear boy dothe protesteth. Verily it is patetic. Well come out of your pose listen to me I now have all the facts in the case thank God. I can see now why you were always so queit so reserved never talking too much never getting to intimat. You were laughing up your sleeve. Oh I know now you were only trifleing with me having your flinge planing all the while to toss me down like a broken shoe when you were thru. Ha. Ha. It was funny. Well I hope you had some fun out of it I most certainly

-6-

did not. Listen to me you big sap I hate you if you
had an ounce of sincirity or decency in you would you
keep things apart? Would you keep secrets? Now I ask you
point blank would you lead a double life which I was
given nothing to know about? Fortunately for me I have a
girl freind in show business on Broadway. Fortunately for
me she got wind of Walt Disney and gave me the "tipoff"
over the phone tonight. So you can stop pretending. I now
know all about you and working for Walt Disney. It was
in the trade reports there from the Coast and my girl
freind got wind of it. Now dont deny it dont try no use
trying. She gets inside information she knows and I know
and in your lieing heart you know I now have all the true
facts. So listen to me I hate you get out of my life. Go
back to your Hollywood g.f. or your Park Avenue g.f. whoever
she may be and I only hope to God you are more true to
her and sincire than I have suffered. Now goodby and this
is final and this is forever period.

Before he did anything he carefully read the letter again,
especially the part about the girl friend who worked in show business
and got trade reports on the inside. His hands shook and he had trouble
following the lines. He wasn't worried now about Terry and how offended
she was. He knew he could explain that later. He could make everything
up to her but right now that wasn't the important thing.

"Mr. Pappendass, please," he said, calling. "Could I see you a
moment, please?"

"Yes?" said the boss, hurrying up. "Yes, Howard, what is it?"

"Look, Mr. Pappendass," he began, and talking in an unsteady whisper,
his eyes growing big and -- more -- eager, he gave the news about Mr. Walt
Disney. "Now listen, Mr. Pappendass, tell me, do you think there might
be something serious in this?"

"Now wait a minute, Howard, go slow." Pappendass spoke in the same
hushed tones, just as nervous and excited as Howard. "This might be
big, this might be really it. Howard, let me see the letter."

"Well, it's personal but it says the friend works in show business
on Broadway, she gets all the inside stuff from the coast."

"Go slow, Howard. It might be a false alarm. Are you sure it
didn't get out in some way?"

"Mr. Pappendass, I didn't say a word. Naturally. I didn't breathe
a word outside of this shop because I didn't want nobody on the block

-7-

to have anything on me to razz. Now look, Mr. Pappendass, don't take
offense but you're the only one I told and possibly, by some mischance,
possibly you let it out or something. Mr. Pappendass, think. Are you
sure you didn't give it away?"

"Howard, so help me God, I give you my word of honor,"

"So how did it get out? So how did she hear of it?"

"Howard, listen. I wouldn't be too hasty but it looks to me like
maybe this is the real goods. Howard, I wouldn't be too hasty but I
don't see no other way to look at it. After all, you kept your mouth
shut and I kept my mouth shut, did we or did we not? After all, Howard,
it says she works in show business with the inside dope."

"Hey!" It was Toscher, half standing up in the chair. He had been
silently watching them all the time and now his face had gone sick with
worry and fear. "What is it? What is it? What are you two guys standing
there whispering about? Is it Peggy? Is it anything that's got to do
with me?"

"Not you!" Pappendass said. "Private matters exclusively! Nothing
about you and Peggy."

"I want to know!" Toscher said. "Don't keep it hidden from me.
Don't try to say it's private. Tell me. Tell me quick!"

"All right, tell him," Howard said, laughing and then not laughing. He was so happy he wanted to go running down the street, telling everybody. He was so happy he didn't know what to do. "Tell him, Mr. Pappendass, what the hell, I don't care."

"See, it was an idea," the boss said, forgetting to act like a
medical doctor any longer. The way he acted now, he might have been some
kid ten years old. "See, Howard had an idea for Mickey Mouse and he
sent it to Walt Disney in Hollywood and now it looks like Walt Disney
will accept it and pay him money. Howard, can I tell Toscher the idea?"

"Listen," Howard said. "Don't count your chickens — that's me.
You know what I'm going to do? I'll tell you. I'm finishing this shave

-8-

just like nothing happened. I'm not making a single move until it's all definite and official."

"What idea?" Toscher said, calming down but still not certain.
"What is this idea?"

"Can I tell him?" Pappendass asked Howard. "You sent yourself a registered letter with the carbon copy and the date of priority, so nobody can steal it. Howard, is it okay if I tell him?"

"Okay, tell him," Howard said. "What do I care, what the hell?"

He took the shaving mug and went down to the fountain but instead of working up a lather, he stayed there, letting the warm water pour through his fingers while he started out writing the letter to Terry in his head. He explained why he had kept everything a secret. He hadn't wanted her to think he was a blowhard, handing out a line the way the wisenheimers on the block did to make an impression on a girl. And of course he didn't have any Hollywood or Park Avenue girl friend. That was ridiculous! It wouldn't make any difference at all no matter how famous or wealthy he might happen to get. There seemed to be a hundred and one things Howard wanted to tell Terry. The words came fast to his mind. The water running through his fingers made him feel good, dreamy, and his whole scalp shivered with hope and pleasure.

"See, this idea," Pappendass was telling Toscher, "it was to make Mickey Mouse a barber. So Donald Duck comes in for a shave. Get it? So this is one of those barber shops down in the basement with the windows high up. So a girl comes walking outside and she has to wait for a guy or something. So Mickey looks out and he sees her legs. Get it? Get it? So he's just putting a hot towel on Donald Duck's face..."

"Very good," Toscher said somewhat. He seemed to be completely reassured now and apparently felt foolish. He didn't meet Pappendass' eye but rolled his head, looking around, embarrassed and uninterested. "Very good. No wonder they're taking it..." Then he stood up. He got out of the chair so abruptly that Pappendass and Howard both had to notice it. "No shave," Toscher said, all at once strangely absorbed.

-9-

"Not now." He pulled the apron off him and went to the little <u>barber</u> chair at the manicurist's table. Peggy had left her handbag lying there. Toscher picked it up and hurried out of the store without saying another word.

"What do you think of that?" Pappendass said and the two barbers laughed quietly, in easy happy spirits.

"Excuse me," Howard said, still smiling. He went down to the wicker table, took out his pencil and began to write the letter while the words were still in his head.

Mr. Pappendass sighed. The first flush of excitement had passed and now he was sober again, tired, and somehow a little sad too.

"In 1924," he said, "I put out my product on the market—Admirol."

"A good catchy popular name," Howard said, not looking up from the pad.

"Well, it never caused no sensation, I can tell you that. Listen,"
the boss said, "I'm stuck in this hole and I'll never get out, not
me. I wouldn't have the luck..." Peggy Toscher came in, rattling
the door as usual. She took her polo coat off, wriggling out of it so
that it then became necessary for her to fix her hair, straighten her
uniform and keep on fussing generally with herself for the next few
minutes. She was breathing hard, her eyes bright and mischievous as
ever, just as though she had never had a scene with her husband. "No,"
said Mr. Pappendass, disapproving. "Not me."

"No pose my dearrest Terry no such thing," Howard was scrabbling on the paper and he went on to say that it was his normal customary manner to be reserved or shy, as she called it. He didn't want a cheap relationship with cat and dog bickerings like Mr. and Mrs. Toscher or the other people in the neighborhood. He didn't want to stay a barber in a cheap section. That was why he was ambitious, and if he had said nothing about Walt Disney, it had been because he didn't believe in

-10-

advertising in advance. There were people who wouldn't go halfway
to understand. There were the jeerers. Howard put it all in. He told
her about the guys on the block who laughed at his song, *Dream A While*,
*Scheme A While*, which had the novelty rhyme in the beginning of the
lines instead of at the end; how they laughed at him when he tried to
cultivate his voice in an endeavor to get an audition for Major Bowes'
program; how they made fun of him, called him "Bottles," when they heard
he was experimenting on a unique musical effect produced by bottles
filled with different kinds of liquids. "Well that's past and gone no
use wasting second thoughts on them they are only puny they
are small." He had to stop in the middle of a word.

Toscher had come back. His face was purple. He clutched Peggy's
bag and some sheets of paper in his left hand and he was so worked-up,
so angry that he actually couldn't speak. He just made hoarse, peculiar
noises in his throat.

"On your feet!" he roared.

"Who, me?" Howard asked, dumbfounded.

"Put your dukes up!"

"Who, me? Hey, Mr. Toscher! Holy smokes!"

Toscher brought his free hand up and clouted Howard on the jaw,
hitting hard.

"Stand back!" Howard said, trembling all over.

"Sam! Sam!" Peggy began squealing. She came bouncing up and
pulled at his shoulder but he jerked himself free. He glared at Howard
like a madman.

"You weasel rat! You dirty weasel rat!"

"Stand back!" Howard said and cocked his fist. "Or so help me
God I'll cleave you!"

"Talking innocent!" Toscher howled and began waving the handbag
and the papers in front of Howard's face. "Talking Mickey Mouse, nice
innocent crap like that, and all the time making a play for my wife.
You weasel rat, I'll kill you!"

-11-

"It was for laughs!" Peggy screamed at the top of her lungs.
"It was all a harmless innocent joke. Sam, it don't mean a damn thing
in a serious way. For God's sakes, Sam, don't be a sap!" She swung
him around and now he waved the bag and the papers in her face.

"Shut up!" he shouted. "Cheating! Cheating on me! I got the proofs,
ain't I? I got the letters!"

"A gag!" Peggy said. "We worked it out for a gag, me and Terry
in the beauty parlor. Listen! Sam, listen to me. I found out about his
idea for Mickey Mouse. I heard him and Pappendass talking about it, so
I found out and I told Terry. So we just thought we'd have some fun
and give him the needles. So we made it up for Terry she should
make out she was heartbroken and devastated on account of him keeping
it such a secret. So I wrote the letters myself and gave them to her
to copy out in her own handwriting so he shouldn't catch wise. It was
a gag, Sam, a harmless innocent gag, nothing serious!"

Toscher stood blinking his eyes suspiciously first at Howard and
then at his wife. The fury in him had all gone cold and now he looked
stupid. "Get your coat," he told Peggy. "You're going home. You still
got some explaining to do." He turned to Howard. "You're not getting
away with a thing. If you got something coming to you, remember, you'll
get it." Peggy had snatched up her polo coat. Toscher opened the door,
pushed her out and followed.

Mr. Pappendas, who hadn't said a word, now came up.

"What," he said, still breathless with amazement and shock, "what
do you think of that. Such a commotion, such an uproar...!"

Howard didn't know what to say to him. He didn't want to talk.
He felt weak. He felt sick. He turned his back to the boss and started
for his honing stone on the shelf but just then the kid came in with
another note from Terry.

"This time she says there's an answer. This time I should wait."

"Yes," Howard said. He had taken the note but didn't open it.