No Pockets In A Shroud by Horace McCoy

Author:Horace McCoy [McCoy, Horace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

46

be if it would keep on raining, hard, and that this

was the reason the South Sea archipelagos

fascinated him so

much-the eternal rain; but in the back of his mind

was Carlisle-and the Cosmopolite, and what a hell

of a

shape this country was in to permit such things, and

that there was a Carlisle in every town in the

country, but

that millions upon millions were too stupid to care,

and that it was that way all over the world:

millions upon

millions of people who believed Hitler and

Mussolini were great fellows, not knowing (or

caring) that they

were madmen beating on drums, poor diseased

bastards, driving a lot of cattle (these same stupid

millions

upon millions) to slaughter, and that they would

surely suck us into it (Hemingway was right about

the radio

in the next war when he said you can imagine what

that will do for hysteria): thinking we should nip

all these

Carlisles and Hitlers and Mussolinis right now: oh

yes, everything is peaches and cream in this

superb,

marvellous, wonderful paradise called the United

States of America, the only country where the

radio is free

and uncensored, and the press is free and

uncensored, and speech is free and uncensored-oh

yes, a man can

say what he pleases, any time he pleases-the hell

he can-you try it, and you get your magazine taken

away

from you.

The

dirty

goddam

sonofabitch,

he said to himself, meaning Carlisle (but thinking,

too, of Hitler and Mussolini).

… Presently he drove through the great stone arch,

the entrance to Weston Park, and then he

discovered

that he was riding in his car and that this was the

section where Lillian lived, his new wife, and he

suddenly

felt he had been married a long, long time, and he

reached for his beard-but knowing there would be

no

beard. His new wife: well, how do you do, Mrs.

Michael Dolan, how do you do! Fawncy meeting

you here!

And who is that distinguished old fluff-duff over

there, who sat at the head of the table. I didn’t quite

catch his

name-oh yes, to be sure; to be sure-the Senator. I

remember his constructive service in Washington,

his

distinguished efforts on behalf of his constituents.

Well, bah jove, Senator, you’re looking fit Yes,

Dolan,

Michael Dolan, you remember me, my ancestors

came over on the Mayflower, oh yes, indeed, the

same

Dolans, the old kings of grand old Ireland (only

now my crest is a crossed pick and shovel beneath

a street car

rampant); and how do you like this dreadful

weather, Senator, you old crooked son of a bitch-

and that’s a

funny one they tell on you, a very funny one

(slapping him on the back), that you paid out fifty

thousand

dollars in Washington to try to get back your

wasted powers (whispering in his ear: I read an

advertisement in

a magazine that might help you); oh, hello, there,

darling, there you are, your father and I were just

reminiscing; oh yes, Senator, we’ll drive carefully,

the streets certainly are slick; it’s really dreadful

weather,

and thank you again for that little house you gave us

as a wedding present, it is too, too divoon and the

dinner

was too, too divoon, and we’ll only play a few

rubbers of bridge with the Burlington-Whimseys;

yes, if I see

the Count I certainly shall give him your

warmest… good night, good night!!!!!

The Negro butler answered the door-bell.

‘Is Miss Lillian home?’ Dolan asked.

‘Come in, sir. Come in,’ the butler said affably,

opening the door.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.