JERRY BUMPUS
117
Lutz. "Marvelous, Lutz. Ain 't it marvelous, Ronnie? "
It
was Ockersly's
judgment that it was indeed marvelous; he took his with him back to
his corner. "Now, " Abbott said. "Those letters. They're from some
weaselly sons of bitches who took inordinate and obscene pleasure in
taunting me after things turned against you and your essays on my
verse.. . .
"To hell with it.
It
doesn't matter. All the way to hell with it! " He
shoved a great stack of papers off onto the floor. "Let 'em lie there,
Lutz, let 'em lie. For Christ's sake don't always be picking things up.
On the floor 's exactly where I want anything that falls off the desk. You
must understand that." Something caught his eye. Putting his forefeet
onto the desk he leaned up and, squinting, read for a moment. Then he
looked at Lutz. "D'ye ever know Ida O 'Shey? " Lutz reminded him he
knew the work but had never met the poet. "I know you keep
saying
that, Lutz, but are you
sure
you've never met her? " Lutz vowed that he
had never once in his life met Ida O'Shey.
Abbott chuckled slyly. " I say, Lutz. . . ." Lutz took his bowl to the
bar and freshened it. "Thankee, my boy." He drank.
Lutz brought up the subject of work. He produced a notepad and a
long list of questions about Abbott's life and work.
Abbott shook his head. "Of course. There's plenty of time for your
work.
After
we've finished with
my
work. Eh? Isn't that our deal? "
"Very well," Lutz said and put aside the questions .
Abbott nodded toward the typewriter on a table by the desk. "Sit
down there and we'll do some verse. "
Just like that! We' ll do some verse!
"Well? " he said. Lutz sat down at the typewriter. "Go on , stick
some paper in it." Lutz stuck some paper in it. "Now, get all this, Lutz,
for I hate like hell repeating myself. Ahem:
The cow, the old cow, she is dead;
It sleeps well, the horned head.
His eyes were gleaming when Lutz looked over his shoulder, and
he was uttering a silent wheezy heh heh heh. "Dammit, Lutz, type it.
The cow, the old cow.. .. '"
Lutz typed it and Abbott nodded for him to put it on the desk. He
glanced at it. "Hm. Three strikeovers and the capital
I
looks like it's
flying off. But that's not so bad." He sat back. "How about this? 'I
always knew... .' No, you don't need to type it. We're done with that.
Let's just hear the sound of it:
