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Algren - A Ticket on Skoronski

What will become of little Sue? Four-year-old Sue-Cha Shen has waited several hours for her stepfather to return. She is too young to realize she has been abandoned. It was almost dark when one of our staff workers discovered Sue. Later we learned that her real father had been killed in an accident. Her mother, with five sons and a daughter to support, married in desperation, but the stepfather didn't want little girls, and proceeded to get rid of Sue-Cha. And what will become of her now? Our homes operate on a severely limited budget, and unless we find a sponsor for Sue — her future looks bleak indeed. Will you help? The world is full of little Sue-Chas—waiting, looking for happiness, love, a warm meal, a clean dress. This is why Overseas Children (formerly Christian Herald Industrial Missions in China) opened an orphanage in China, many years ago. And after the Communists forced us out, we moved on to Hong Kong, Formosa, then Korea. And it seems we always have more orphans than sponsors. This is very dear to my heart. I have held children like Sue-Cha in my arms–innocent victims of a world full of violence. I urge you to sponsor a needy child. The cost is small, only $10 a month. Besides the child's love and gratitude, you will receive his or her picture, life history, and the chance to exchange letters. Both groups and indivrtlitals can sponsor these youngsters. Please—sit down right now, fill out the sponsor application, write your check for $10 and send it air mail. The need is urgent. A child is waiting for your love. Will you help? Today? God bless you, Daniel A. Poling, President ZSEPI 16 Overseas Children, Inc. 27 E. 39th Street, New York, New York 10016 I Dear Dr. Poling: Yes, I want to sponsor a 0 boy 0 girl in (country) or q A child in greatest need. For $10 a month, please send my child's name, story, address, Enclosed is my first payment of $ 0 Please send me more information. Name Address City Sponsorship payments are tax deductible L State and picture to me. Zip I Christian Herald's Owner tried to get a fresh hold of the old man, but Fielder pushed him back. "I think he is suppose to go the other way, Wenceslaus," Lottie decided. "Why do you always take his side, Mother?" Fielder asked, and began massaging Haircut Man's chest. I didn't think the old man looked right myself, with his shoes against the GAME COMPLETED Sign, but I don't like to take sides. "Massage his feet, you," Fielder ordered me. I began rubbing fast, with both hands, taking care not to pinch the toes. The old man never done me harm. "Not the shoes, dummy ! The feet, the feet," Fielder hollered right at me. I don't mind being hollered, but not right at. I unlaced one of the Ground Grippers. When I got it off, I looked inside. Then I took off the sock and held it up, but everybody was so busy watching Fielder massaging, nobody would even look at my work. I took the sock over to Lottie. " What do I do with this?" I asked her. "Don't give me no dead stiff's sock," she told me. "How do you know he's dead?" I asked her, and up jumped Owner from the bar stool. "Call a doctor !" he hollered. "Call a doctor ! Maybe he ain't !" "Sit down," Lottie told him. " I already called Croaker." "The old man owed me a drink," I told her, hanging the sock on the bar rail in case somebody wanted to shine it some day. " You can give it to me out of his estate." "He didn't have no estate," Lottie decided. "Not in his right shoe," I said. "Do you think we should look in the left?" "Here's Croaker," Lottie answered, and sure enough, some wax-moustache sport carrying a doctor bag was tipping the rain off the brim of his little felt hat into a spittoon beside the juke. "Are you watering our roses," I asked him, "or starting a reservoir?" "Only being neat," he told me. "Buy me a drink," I said, "and I'll be on your side. You appeal to me." "I can't afford having you on my side," he told me. " Where's the sick man?" "Nobody sick in here I know of, Doc," I told him. "Look in the corner," Lottie directed him. "Corner of where?" He thought she'd said on the corner. "I'll take you there," I told him. "I know this neighborhood like a book." Then he saw Fielder giving somebody a rubdown on the pinball machine and walked over. He picked up the Ground Gripper I'd set on the GAME COMPLETED sign and studied it—the toe curved up like a ski. "Have this bronzed," he decided, and handed it to Fielder and came back to the bar. Fielder stopped massaging and came over too. "Give this man a drink." the Doc told Lottie. " I got no glass," I let everyone know. "You don't have anything to put in one neither," Doc told me. Some Doc. "Let me introduce myself." I thought he ought to know me better. " I'm the guy makes the people laugh. Watch this." And I went into my song-andtennis shoe shuffle: Take me down to Haircut Shop But please don't shave the neck Call me up by Picturephone But please don't call collect. He wasn't watching. Nobody was watching. Yet somebody was watching from behind the juke. " I made the words up myself," I told Doc. He didn't answer, so I went around to where he could hear me better. " You got a stet'oscope, Doc?" I asked him. " In the bag," he told me. "I could help you test the deceased," I offered. "Maybe there's a faint murmur." "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a stiff," the Doc told Fielder, and took some sort of paper out of his pocket. I knew what it was. I went around the bar and whispered to Lottie, " Don't put it down he died in here. Owner might want to sell someday." Lottie whispered to Owner, and when the Doc handed over the certificate, Owner pushed a bottle at him. "Don't put it down he died in here, Doc," Owner told him. "Put it down he dropped on the walk outside." The Doc crossed out a line and added one. Owner signed. " I might want to sell sometime," he explained. "Do I get a drink now?" I asked Lottie. Lottie brought a bottle up. Owner took it down. " When we settle the estate," he said. " When will that be?" I asked him. " When the dead come back from the grave," Owner promised. I dropped my jaw, made my eyes to stare, and pulled in my cheeks. What I call it is Making My Dead face. I pushed the whole thing into Lottie's puss. " What the hell is this for?" she asked me. " It's how you're going to look one day," I told her. "It's how we'll all look one day," she let me know. I went over to Owner and made The Deadface. I made it deader than a real dead face. " What's the matter with you?" he asked me. " It's how we'll all look one day," I told him. "Give me a drink while you still got time." " Who wastes whisky on the dying?" he asked me. I went over to Fielder. He had the bottle in front of him and a shot poured. When he raised his elbow I put The Deadface up at him from under his arm. Fielder looked down at my Deadface looking up. "Say a prayer for this guy," he told everybody. And they all drank their shots down. I went back to Owner. "How many?" "How many what?" he asked me. "You said you'd buy me a shot if I brought back the dead," I reminded him. "One shot is the limit," he told me. " I know," I told him. " What I mean is, how many dead do I have to bring back to get one shot?" Owner looked over at the pinball machine. "One will do," he decided. 53


Algren - A Ticket on Skoronski
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