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Fanfare, whole no. 10, December 1943
Page 44
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Confessions of a Stf Addict, or, MS FOUND IN A PADDED CELL by ray martinuk Everyone reads. That is to say, Almost everyone. Well no, when you come right down to it, a surprising number of people can't read, can they? Oh well, it may be for the better after all. What I mean to say, is that at sometime in the life of the average citizen, he or she is introduced into the mysteries of the printed word. Naturally the age at which he does begin to read depends largely upon his intelligence & natural facility. I began to read at the surprisingly early age of nineteen. Of course I was master of the spoken word at a much earlier age. My mother was so proud of me when I uttered my first intelligent word! She ran out, helter-skelter, hippety-hop, & called all the naborhood in. These worthy people promptly gathered about my crib - & waited. By this time I had become thoroly interested in my big toe, which I was gnawing at with alarming persistence. After 10 minutes, my mothers smile of paternal pride gave way to a frown of nervoid agitation, & she glanced from one nabor to another with a helpless shrug. "Er - come on, dear," she coaxed. "Let's hear you say that word again - huh? Poo- poo-- ? Oh dear me!" Naturally, what she said made no sense at all to me, so to show her I understood perfectly, I stuck my whole foot in my mouth. But when I saw how disappointed they all looked, I surmised that this was definitely not what they expected - so I trotted out the best trick I knew. This consists of rubbing the palm of the hand against the mouth, & drooling thru the fingers - with sound effects! The result sounds like a cross between
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Confessions of a Stf Addict, or, MS FOUND IN A PADDED CELL by ray martinuk Everyone reads. That is to say, Almost everyone. Well no, when you come right down to it, a surprising number of people can't read, can they? Oh well, it may be for the better after all. What I mean to say, is that at sometime in the life of the average citizen, he or she is introduced into the mysteries of the printed word. Naturally the age at which he does begin to read depends largely upon his intelligence & natural facility. I began to read at the surprisingly early age of nineteen. Of course I was master of the spoken word at a much earlier age. My mother was so proud of me when I uttered my first intelligent word! She ran out, helter-skelter, hippety-hop, & called all the naborhood in. These worthy people promptly gathered about my crib - & waited. By this time I had become thoroly interested in my big toe, which I was gnawing at with alarming persistence. After 10 minutes, my mothers smile of paternal pride gave way to a frown of nervoid agitation, & she glanced from one nabor to another with a helpless shrug. "Er - come on, dear," she coaxed. "Let's hear you say that word again - huh? Poo- poo-- ? Oh dear me!" Naturally, what she said made no sense at all to me, so to show her I understood perfectly, I stuck my whole foot in my mouth. But when I saw how disappointed they all looked, I surmised that this was definitely not what they expected - so I trotted out the best trick I knew. This consists of rubbing the palm of the hand against the mouth, & drooling thru the fingers - with sound effects! The result sounds like a cross between
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