ST. LOUIS IDYLL
45
It is estimated that fifteen thousand outoftowners from all the
valley states are visiting our city now at the time of its highest glory,
the carnival parade. Of course, this is far below pre-depression figures
which sometimes ran four times as high, but what's the difference! Forget
the past
I
Down today and up, you know what I mean, ladeez and
genmen
I
Oho
I
here comes the next float, the Declaration of Independence
and who knows. Maybe, to use Hoover's phrase, 'the corner's turning'–
with Roosevelt
I
Maybe we'll be singing. • • •
"I'll tell yuh," the newsboy said, "it wuz better a few years ago
when de cops let yes sellslappers. Yuh cud sell dern slappers ten cents
apiece, make six( cents profit. When yuh slapped some fatass gal on · de
bimbo wid one of dern, boy! she knew what it felt like to be married."
An overalled Negro passed. The men had walked far, the legend
drooped. "Hey, shine," a man on the float behind called, "hold
it
up."
The signbearer straightened, grinning. The legend said: Pioneers.
The men in overalls and the plodding oxen carne next. The float fol–
lowed.
A
log cabin stood in a clearing. Two women leaned on axes. Three
men wearing beards blew kisses.
A
Red Indian, chained by a foot to a
log, jumped up and down and scratched his hide· like a monkey.
"Hooray," the crowd shouted.
"Hooray fuh the Prophet."
"Hooray fuh Roosevelt."
"Hooray."
"Boo."
The ladies in ermines in the upperstory windows of Hotel Statler
thought it all too funny. They shook and threw kisses. The Red
Indian drew an imaginary arrow from an imaginary quiver, planted a
kiss on it, set it to a heartshaped gilded bow and shot it with exaggerated
monkey-motions at a blonde in shiny silk straddling a thirdstory balcony
railing. · She caught and hugged it to her breast. Her escort, an abdom–
inal oldster in tv,reeds, solemnly clapped his hands.
. . . the American legion band is marching by. Look at those
boys
strut. In red with fancy red overseas caps. Who remembers how in a
time like this, in a time of gravest crisis. . . .
A man in a dirty shirt made a nasty noise with his mouth. He said,
"aint they purty I"
Another man in a dirty shirt said, "Don't you like it?"
"No, I don't."
