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Too many aircraft always roaring and zooming. Too far out of town. And you ask too much for it, anyway. But Marian thought that Branton Hills, as a municipality, should own it; figuring that that airport would grow, and that yard was practically a part of it, anyway. So Marian, going to His Honor, as about anybody in town did, without an instants dallying, told him, (!) what his Council should do. But, said Gadsby, what a City Council should do, and what it will do, dont always match up. Cant I go and talk to it? What! To our Council? No; that is, not as a body. But if you can run across a Councilman out of City Hall you can say what you wish. A Councilman is just an ordinary man, you know. But a Councilman out of City Hall was a hard man to find; and a child couldnt go to a mans mansion to talk him around. But, by grand luck, in a month or so, Marian did find, and win, all but Simpkins. On Council night, Simpkins took up a good, or I should say, bad half hour against Branton Hills buying any old dump or scrap land that is. What this city put up. Was coming to? and so on, and so on. And Marians back yard wasnt bought. Now Youth is all right if you rub its fur in a way which suits it; but, man!! hold on to your hat, if you dont!! And Marians fur was all lumpy. Boy! was that kid MAD!! Now, just by luck, March thirty-first, coming along as days do, you know, found Marian in front of a toy shop window, in which, way down front, was a box of cigars, with a card saying: This Brand Will Start His Blood Tingling. And Marian, as boys say, was on in an instant; and bought a cigar. Not a box, not a bunch, but just a cigar. Coming out Marian saw His Honor and Simpkins passing; Simpkins saying:- All right. Ill drop around, tonight. And was Marian happy? Wait a bit. That night as Gadsby and Simpkins sat talking in His Honors parlor, who would, just by luck, (??) walk in, but Marian; saying, oh, so shyly: Just thought Id drop in to chat with Nancy, and, on passing a couch, slyly laid that cigar on it. Now Simpkins, in addition to his famous grouch, was a parsimonious old crab; who, though drawing good pay as Councilman, couldnt pass up anything that cost nothing; and, in gazing around, saw that cigar; and, with a big apologizing yawn, and slinking onto that couch as a cat slinks up on a bird, and, oh, so nonchalantly lighting a match, was soon puffing away and raving about Branton Hills politics. Out in a back parlor sat Marian and Nancy on a big divan, hugging tightly up, arm in arm, and almost suffocating from holding back youthful anticipations, as Simpkins said: Ä and that Hopkins back yard stunt! Ridiculous! Why, his kid was out, trying to find all of our Council to talk it into buying. Bah! And did I block it? Ill say I did! You dont find kids today laughing at Councilman Simpkins. An actual spasm of giggling in that back parlor had Gadsby looking around, inquiringly. No, sir! Simpkins said. No kid can fool Coun BANG!! Gadsby, jumping up saw only a frazzly cigar stump in Old Bills mouth, as that palpitating individual was vigorously brushing off falling sparks as His Honors rugs got a rain of tobacco scraps! Gadsby was on in an instant, noticing Marian and Nancy rolling and tumbling around on that big divan, and doubling up in a giggling fit, way out of control. Finally Simpkins angrily got up, viciously jamming on his tall silk hat; and Marian, fighting that giggling fit, just had to call out: April Fool, Councilman Simpkins! (And Mayor Gadsby, on a following Council night, got Marians land bill through; many a Councilman holding his hand in front of his grinning mouth, in voting for bright, vitalic Youth.) >1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17 . 18 . 19 . 20 21 . 22 . 23 . 24 . 25 . 26 . 27 . 28 . 29 . 30 |