PLAYBOY

PLAYBOY,

KIND WORDS

I've just finished reading the first

issue of PLAYBOY and all 1 have to

say is Wow! This magazine makes

Sir, Мар. and Esquire look sick
Garland Robinson, Jr
5. Norwood, Ohio

As а recently returned Korean veter-
an, rather than as а playboy in the
strict sense, may I take this occasion
to compliment you and your staff on
the first two issues of PLAYBOY? It
is very pleasing to discover, upon ге
turning to this country, that not all
the humor and fun has been sterilized
out of existence by pseudo-purists of
one sort or another

I think that your idea of running
both the Sherlock Holmes and the
Boccaccio is excellent. Also, I very
much approve of Leon Bellin's illustra
tions for the latter. Your Party Jokes
section is the sort of thing 1 normally
have a well developed allergy for, but
whoever gets up this section for you
is doing a fine job—and the border
is delightful. Further, you've success-
fully done what no other magazine
has been able to до-уошуе revived
the full-page illustrated joke.

The guy who photographed “An
Open Letter From California" in your
first issue certainly knows what fellows
like us (who are a bit behind on this
sort of thing) really enjoy; any of us
who've wallowed in stinking Korean
mud would have given a couple of eye
teeth to have assisted in the posing of
the model for these photographs.

In short, I think your magazine
shows good taste and imagination, and
I'm very grateful to you. Good luck
and thanks.

Korean Veteran
Washington, D.C.

Just two issues and PLAYBOY is
tops in its field!
Donald Kutski
Chicago. Illinois

Alright, alright, 1 give up. If I Вай
a bit of will power—but 1 don't. Two
issues have convinced me. Please send

dear playboy

Address PLAYBOY, 11 E. Superior St., Chicago 11, Illinois

to me, at the address attached, one
year of PLAYBOY. Incidentally, those
“special rates" for one year stink!
Е. Т. Berg, Jr.
Baton Rouge, Па.

APPLE OF OUR EYE

May I ask who is the delightful dish
who seems to be the apple of PLAY-
BOY's eye on your letters page? I
hope you have plans for showing us
more of her in subsequent issues—in
larger pictures, of course.

James В. Russell

Escanaba, Michigan

А number of readers have asked for
more pictures of this PLAYBOY eye-
ful. We'll oblige іп the next issue.

MISS LACE

I was extremely pleased about the
nice treatment you gave Miss Lace
and certainly am grateful for your
interest іп my work.

Milton Caniff
New City, М. Y.

I very much enjoyed your reprints
from Milton Caniff's Miss Lace. Why
not follow up with the most famous
English comic strip female, Jane, from
the London Mirror. Jane could find
more reasons for getting undressed
than any ten other women.

T. B. Holman

Fort Worth, Texas

SALES

I am very pleased with the sale that
we are enjoying оп PLAYBOY and
have hopes of much greater sales. Our

original order on the first issue was
500 copies. We reordered an addition-
al 650 copies, but they didn't arrive
till nearly їһгее weeks later and some
of the fever had died down. However,
we sold most of the additional 650
copies. On the second issue, you sent
me 1,000 copies. I am most happy to
report that we have sold the entire
shipment, so I've put back on the
stands the remainder of the first issue
that I had. And believe it or not,
the first issue is now selling again.
For the next issuc—the third one—

will you please raise my order to 1,500
copies so that I can start а few тоге
dealers who have been asking for it.
Would you believe that 1 sold the
1.000 copies in only five stands con-
centrated near the University of ШІ-
nois campus. Now I want to expand
the distribution to other outlets іп
Champaign and Urbana.

Esther L. Hays

C & U News Agency

Champaign, Illinois

FIRST ISSUES

I have just purchased and perused
the January issue of PLAYBOY. And,
man, it's the most! Articles, pictures,
and features are all tops. Гуе never
seen anything like it, and I think I've
seen quite a few.

I notice this is the second issue.
Would it be possible to get a copy of
issue number onc?

Gene Morris
Naperville, Illinois

1 suppose I am asking "the im
possible,” but I am writing with the
hope that you can send me a copy
of your first edition of PLAYBOY
magazine. I'm sure you have had
many other such requests, since the
supply ran out terribly fast here іп
Oklahoma City. И was undoubtedly
the same all over the country.

H. Ward, Jr.
Oklahoma City, Okla.

The small quantity of first issues
still on hand is being saved for Charter
Subscribers. A subscription to PLAY-
BOY will guarantee your receiving
every one of the great issues coming
up and can include any of the first

four issues you may have missed. A
three year subscription to PLAYBOY
is $13—two years for $10—one for $6.

MARLENE

Just received the second issue of
PLAYBOY after being overwhelmingly
pleased with your first issue. Yours is,
without a doubt, the finest of its
kind on the stands, Please keep up the
fine work.

Your taste in fine females is superb.
May I suggest а shot of Marlene Diet-
rich in your next issue? She just
opened a three week run at The
Sahara Hotel in Las Vegas at $30,000

er, іп a dress said to be transparent
Fom the wabt up, which she claims
creates interest in her ас. (Му God,
she is 53 years old!) Sounds like it
might make a good candid shot for
PLAYBOY.

Ronald C. Paape
Washington, D.C.

er had wanted
alf of her dress
transparent too. When asked what
she was wearing under the skirt, Mar-
lene replied, "А garter belt.”

Marlene's dress desi
to make the bottom

j

ADDRESS ALL ORDERS TO THE MEN'S SHOP,
С/О PLAYBOY, 11 E. SUPERIOR STREET,
CHICAGO 11, ILLINOIS. SORRY, NO С.О.0.5.

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СОМТЕМТ5 РОВ

FAHRENHEIT 451—fiction
THE MEDICINE MAN-f[iction <----
TROUBLE IN TOBACCOLAND-—article ||
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor.

YOUR MIND AND HOW IT WORKS—humor

THE MAGIC BOX—pictorial.

MISS MARCH—playboy'’s playmate of the month

JOHNS—THE OUTHOUSE BEAUTIFUL—pictorial___

TALES FROM THE DECAMERON- fiction
LIQUOR LADY NO. 1—drink

SEX SELLS A SHIRT—pictorial

HUGH M. HEFNER, editor and publisher
ARTHUR PAUL, art editor

1

THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE

ray bradbury 6
erskine caldwell 12
glen douglas 15
— әл?
roger price 20

- arv miller 22

— == - 26

frank o'beirne 30
boccaccio 32

сыз gloria 24

- 36

Playboy із published monthly Бу the HMH Publishing Co., Inc., 11 Е. Superior, Chicago 11, Illinois.
Postage must accompany all manuscripts and drawings submitted if they are to be ‘returned
and по responsibility can be assumed for unsolicited materials, Contents copyrighted 1954 by
HMH Publishing Co, Inc. Nothing may be reprinted in whole or in pari without written per-
mission. Printed in U.S.A. Any similarity between people and places in the stories, articles,
and other features of this magazine and any тесі people and places is purely coincidental.

Credits: Cover photograph by Hal Adams courtesy Carson Roberts Inc; Р. 5 Graphic House;
P. 29 Gardner Неа from “Stog At Eve;" P. 36-40 Hal Adams courtesy Carson Roberts Inc.

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“p ‘Ou 1 Тод

FSET Чогош

FAHRENHEIT

The temperature at which book-

paper catches fire, and burns...

FICTION

by
RAY BRADBURY

This is the first port of a 3 part
novel. PLAYBOY doesn’t usually
print continued stories, but this is
too good to cut to a single issue.
FAHRENHEIT 451 will become, we
believe, a modern science fiction
classic. It is more than fantasy —
it ва frightening prediction of о
future world we are creating NOW.

PART ONE

IT WAS A PLEASURE ТО BURN.
It was a special pleasure to see
things caten, to see things blackened
and changed. With the brass nozzle
in his fists, with this great python
spitting its venomous Kerosene upon
the world, the blood pounded in his
head, and his hands were the hands
of some amazing conductor playing
all the symphonies of blazing ап
burning to bring down the tatters and
charcoal ruins of history. With his
symbolic helmet numbered 451 on his
stolid head, and his eyes all orange
flame with the thought of what came
next, he flicked the igniter and the
house jumped-up in a gorging fire (Нас
burned the evening sky red апа yel
low and black. He strode in a swarm
of fireflies. He wanted above all, like
the old joke, to shove a marshmallow
on a stick in the furnace, while the
flapping pigcon-winged books died on
the porch and lawn of the house.
While the books went up in sparkling
whirls and blew away on a wind
turned dark with burning.
(continued on next page)

ILLUSTRATED BY BEN DENISON

FAHRENHEIT 451 ............ “бү;

Montag grinned the fierce grin of
all nged and driven back by
flam Ы

He knew that when he returned to
the firehouse, he might wink at him-
self, а minstrel man, burnt«orked, in
the mirror. Later, going to sleep, he
would feel the fiery smile still gripped
by his face muscles, in the dark. It
never went away, that smile, it never
ever went away, as long as he remem
bered.

He hung up his black beetle-colored
helmet and shined it; he hung his
flameprool jacket neatly; he showered
luxuriously, and then, whistling, hands
in pockets, walked across the upper
floor of the fire station and fell down
the hole, At the last moment, when
disaster seemed positive, he pulled his
hands from his pockets and broke his
fall by grasping the golden pole. He
slid to a squeaking Вай, the heels
one inch from the concrete floor down
stairs.

He walked out of the fire station
and along the midnight street toward
the subway where the silent air-pro
pelled train slid soundlessly down its
lubricated flue in the earth and let
him out with a great puff of warm
air onto the cream-tiled escalator ris
ing to the suburb.

Whistling, he let the escalator waft
him into the still night air. He
walked toward the со ng
Тайе at all about. nothing in particu
lar. Before he reached the corn
however, he slowed as if a wind had
sprung up from nowhere, as И some-
опе had called his name.
The last few nights һе had had the
most uncertain feelings about th
sidewalk just around the corner here,
oving in the starlight toward his
house. He had felt that a moment
prior to his making the turn, some

one had been there. The air seemed
charged with a special с if some-
one had waited there, quietly, and

only a moment before he came, simply
turned to a shadow and let hi
through. Perhaps his nose detected а
faint perfume, perhaps the skin on
the backs of his bands, on his face, felt
the temperature rise at this one spot
where a person's standing might raise
Ше immediate atmosphere ten degrees
for an instant. There was no under-
standing it. Each time he made thc
turn, he saw only the white, unused
buckling sidewalk, with perhaps, on
one night, something vanishing swiftly
across a lawn before he could focus
his eyes or speak.

Copyright 1950 by World Editions
Ray Bradbury. Printed with permi

ат

aright, 1583 Бу
cid Matson.

But now tonight, he slowed almost
to а stop. His inner mind, reaching
out to turn the corner for him, had
rd the faintest whisper. Breathin
Or was the atmosphere compressed
merely by someone standing very
quietly there, waiting?

He turned the corner.

The autumn leaves blew over the
moonlit pavement in such a way as to
make the girl who was moving there
seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting
the motion of the wind and the leaves
carry her forward. Her head was half
bent to watch her shoes stir the cir-
cling leaves. Her face was slender and
milk-white, and in it was a kind of
gentle hunger that touched over every-
thing with tireless curiosity. И was
a look, almost, of pale surprise; the
dark eyes were so fixed to the world
that no move escaped them. Her dress
was white and it whispered. He almost
thought he heard the motion of her
hands as she walked, and the in'initely
small sound now. white stir of her
face turning when she discovered she
was a moment away from а man who
stood in the middle of the pavement
waiting,

The trees overhead made a great
sound of letting down their dry rain.
The girl stopped and looked as if she
might pull back in surprise, but
stead stood regarding Montag
eyes so dark and shining and alive,
that he felt he had said something
quite wonderful. But Ве knew his
mouth had only moved to say hello,
and then when she seemed hypnotized
by the salamander on his arm and the
phoenix-disc on his chest, he spoke

„" he said. "you're our
new neighbor, aren't you?"

And you must Бе" She raised her
eyes from his professional symbols,
“ве fireman.” He voice trailed off

How oddly vou say that.”

'd— I'd have known it with my eyes
shut." she said, slowly

“What—the smell of kerosene? Му
wife always complains.” he laughed
“You never wash it off completely.

ou don't," she said, in awe.
He felt she was walking in a circle
about him, turning him end for end.
shaking him quietly, and emptying his
pockets, without once moving herself.
“Kerosene,” he said. because the si
lence had lengthened, "is nothing but
perfume to me."
"Does it seem like that, really
ОГ course. Why not”
She gave herself time to tl

k of и.

"b don't know." She turned to face
the sidewalk going toward their homes.
“Do you mind И 1 walk back with you?
I'm Clarisse McClellan.’

“Clarisse. Guy Montag. Come
along. What are you doing out so late
wandering around? How old аге
you?"

They walked in the warm-cool blow-
ing night ement
and there wa
fresh apricots and strawberries in the
air, and he looked around and realized
this was quite impossible, so late іп
the year.

There was only the girl walking
with him now, her face bright as snow
in the moonlight, and he knew she
was working his questions around,
secking the best answers she could
possibly give.

“Well,” she said, "Fm seventeen
and Fm crazy. My uncle says the two
always go together. When people ask
your age, he said, always say seventeen
and insane. Isn't this a nice time of
night to walk? I like to smell things
and look at things, and sometimes stay
up all night, walking, and watch the
sun rise."

They walked on again in silence
and finally she said, thoughtfully,
“You know, I'm not afraid of you at
all."

He was surprised, "Why should you
be?"

ny people аге, Afraid of fire-
п. But you're just а man,
after all..."

He saw himself in her eyes, suspend
ed in two shining drops of bright
er, himself dark and tiny, іп fine
detail, the lines about his mouth,
everything there, as if her eyes were
two miraculous bits of violet. amber
that might capture and hold him in-
tact. Her face, turned to him now,
was Lragile milk crystal with a soft and
constant light in it, It was not the
hysterical light of electricity but—whatz
But the strangely comfortable and
rare and gently flattering light of the
candle. One timc. as a child, in а
powerfailure, his mother had found
and lit a ам candle and there had
been a brief hour of rediscovery, cf
such illumination that space lost its
vast dimensions and drew comfortably
around them, and they, mother and
son, alone, transformed, hoping that

the power might not come on again
too soon... «
And then Clarisse McClellan said:

“Do you mind if 1 ask? How long've
you worked at being a firema
ince 1 was twenty, ten years ago."

“Do you ever read any of the books
vou burn?”

He laughed. “Thats against the
law!"

“Oh. OF course.”

“Its fine work. Monday burn Mil-
lay, Wednesday Whitman, Friday
Faulkner, burn ‘em to ashes, then burn
the ashes. That's our official slogan."

They walked still further and the
girl said, “Is it true that long ago fire-
теп put fires out instead of going to
them?"

Vo. Houses have always been fire-
proof, take my word for it."

"Strange. | heard once that a long
time ago houses used to burn by acci-
dent and they needed firemen to stop
the flames.”

He laughed.

She glanced quickly over.
you laughing?”

“1 don't know." He started to laugh

n and stopped. "Why?"
You laugh when 1 haven't been
funny and you answer right off. You
never stop to think what Гуе asked

"Why are

opped walking. “You are an
he said, looking at her.
"Haven't you any respect?"

“1 don't mean to be insulting. It's
just, I love to watch people too much,
I guess.”

"Well, doesn't this mean anythin,
to you?" He tapped the numerals І
stitched on his char-colored sleeve.

"Yes" she whispered. She increased
her pace. “Have you ever watched the
jetears racing on the boulevards down
that way

"You're changing the subject!"

“L sometimes think drivers don't
know what grass is, or flowers, be-
cause they never see them slowly,” she
said. "If you showed a driver a green
blur, Oh yes! he'd say, that's grass! A
pink blur? That's a rose garden! White

lurs are houses. Brown blurs are cows.

My uncle drove slowly on a highway
once.

He drove forty miles an hour

for two days. Isn't
and sad, too?"

/ou think too many things," said

Montag, uncasily.

“1 rarely watch the ‘parlor walls’ ог
go to races or Fun Parks. So I've
lots of time for crazy thoughts, 1
guess, Have you seen the two hundred-
footlong billboards in the country
beyond town? Did you know that once
bill-boards were only twenty feet long?
But cars started rushing by so quickly
they had to stretch the advertising

ош so it would last.’

didn't know that”
hed abruptly-

“Bet 1 know something else you
don't. There's dew on the grass in the

morning."

Montag

He suddenly couldn't remember if
he had known this or not, and it
made him quite irritable.

"And if you look" she nodded at
the sky, "there's a man in the moon."

He hadn't looked for а long time

They walked the rest of the way
in silence, hers thoughtful, his a kind
of clenching and uncomfortable si-
lence in which he shot her accusing
glances. When they reached her house
all its lights were blazing
Whats going оп?” Montag had
rarely seen that many house lights.

"Oh. just my mother and father
and unde sitting around, talking. It’s
ke being a pedestrian, only rarer.
My uncle was arrested another time
did 1 tell you2—for being a pedestrian.
Oh, we're most peculiar.”

"But what do you talk about?”

She laughed at this. “Good night!"
She started up her walk, Then she
scemed to remember something and
came back to look at him with wonder
and curiosity "Are you happy?" she
said.

"Am I what?" he cried.

But she was gonc—running in the
moonlight. Her front door shut gently.

Happy! Of all the nonsense.”

He stopped laughing.

He put his hand into the glove-hole
of his front door and let it know
his touch. The front door slid open.

What does

denly remembered that something lay
hidden behind the grille, something
that seemed to peer down at him now.
He moved his eyes quickly away.

What a strange imecting on а
strange night. He remembered noth-
ing like it save one afternoon a year
ago when he old man
in the park and they

shook his head. He looked
k wall, The girl's face was
there, really quite beautiful іп mem-
ory: astonishing, in fact. She had а
very thin face like the dial of a small
dark room in
the middle of a night when you
waken to sce the time and see thc
dock telling you the hot
minute and the second.
silence and a glowing.
and knowing what it has 10 tell of
the night passing swiftly on toward
further darknesses, but moving alo
toward а new sun.

"What?" asked Montag of that other
self, the subconscious idiot that г
babbling at times, quite independent
of will, habit, and conscience.

He glanced back at the wall. How
like a mirror, too, her face. Impos-
sible; for how many people did you
know that refracted your own light
to you? People were more often—he
searched for a simile, found one in
his work—torches, blazing away until
they whiffed ош. How rarely did
Other peoples faces take you and
throw to you your own ex-
pression, your own innermost trem-

ling thought?

What incredible power of identi-
fication the girl had; she was like
the cager watcher of а marionette
show, anticipating each flicker of ап
elid, each gesture of his hand, each
flick of a finger, the moment before
it began. How long had they walked
together? Three minutes? Five? Yet
how large that time seemed now. How
immense a figure she was on the stage
before him; what a shadow she threw
on the wall with her slender body! He
felt that if his eye itched, she might
blink. And if the muscles of his jaws
stretched imperceptibly, she would
yawn long before he would.

Why, he thought, now that 1 think
of it, she almost seemed to be waiting
for me there, in the street, so damned
late at night. . .

He opened the bedroom door.

It was like coming into the cold
marbled room of a mausoleum after
the moon has set. Complete darkn
not a hint of the silver world outside,
the windows tightly shut, the chamber
а tomb-world where no sound from
the great city could penetrate. The
room was not empty.

He listened.

The little mosquito-delicate dancing
hum in the air, the electri murmur
of a hidden wasp snug in its special
ри warm nest. The music was almost
loud enough so he could follow the
tune.

He felt his smile slide а , melt,
fold over and down on itself like а
tallow skin, like the stuff of a fantastic
candle burning too long and now
collapsing and now blown out. Dark-
ness. He was not happy. He was not
happy. He said the words to himself.
He recognized this as the true state
of affairs. He wore his happiness like
а mask and the girl had run off across
the lawn with the mask and there was
no way of going to knock on her door
and ask for it back.

Without turning on the light he
imagined how this тоот would look.
His wife stretched on the bed, un-
covered and cold, like а body dis-
played on the lid of a tomb, her eyes
fixed on the (continued on next page)

FAHRENHEIT 451 es

ceiling by invisible threads of steel,
immovable. And in her ears the
little Seashells, the thimble radios
tamped tight, and an electronic ocean
of sound, of music and talk and music
and talk coming in, coming in on the
shore of her unsleeping mind. The
room was indeed empty. Every night
the waves came in and bore her off
on their great tides of sound, floating
her, wide-cyed, toward morning. There
had been no night in the last two
years that Mildred had not swum that
sea, had not gladly gone down in it
for the third time.

"The room was cold but nonetheless
he felt he could not breathe. He did
not wish to open the drapes and open
the French windows, for he did not
want the moon to come into the room.
So, with the feeling of a man who
will die in the next hour for lack
of air, he felt his way toward his
open, separate, and therefore cold

An instant before his foot hit the
object on the floor he knew he would
hit such an object. It was not unlike
the feeling he had experienced before
turning the corner and almost knock-
ing the girl down. His foot, sending
vibrations ahead, received back echoes
of the small barrier across its path
even as the foot swung. His foot
kicked. The object gave a dull clink
and slid off in darkness.

He stood very straight and listened
to the person on the dark bed in
the completely featureless night. The
breath coming out the nostrils was
so faint it stirred only the furthest
fringes of life, a small leaf, a black
feather, a single fibre of hair.

He still did not want outside light.
He pulled out his igniter, felt the
salamander сісһей on its silver disc,
gave it a Ша...

Two moonstones looked up at him
in the light of his small hand-held
fire; two pale moonstones buried in
а creek of clear water over which the
life of the world ran, not touching
them.

“Mildred!”

Her face was like a snow-covered
island upon which rain might fall,
but it felt no rain; over which clouds
might pass their moving shadows, but
she felt no shadow. There was only
the singing of the thimble-wasps in
her tamped-shut ears, and her eyes
all glass, and breath going in and out,
softly, faintly, in and out her nostrils,
and her not caring whether it came or
went, went or came.

The object he had sent tumbling
with his foot now glinted under the
edge of his own bed. The small crystal
bottle of sleeping tablets which earlier
today had been filled with thirty cap-
sules and which now lay uncapped
and empty in the light of the tiny
flare.

As he stood there the sky over the

10

house screamed. There was a tremen-
dous ripping sound as if two giant
hands had torn ten thousand miles
of black linen down the seam. Montag
was cut in half. He felt his chest
chopped down and split apart, Тһе
jetbombers going over, going over,
going ovcr, onc two, one two, one two,
six of them, nine of them, twelve of
them, one and one and one and an-
other and another and another, did
all the screaming for him. He opened
his own mouth and let their shriek
come down and out between his bared
teeth. The house shook. The flare
went out in his hand. The moonstones
vanished. He felt his hand plunge
toward the tclephone.

The jets were gone. He felt his lips
move, brushing the mouthpiece of the
phone. “Emergency hospital" A ter-
rible whisper.

He felt that the stars had been pul-
verized by the sound of the black jets
and that in the morning the earth
would be covered with their dust like
а strange snow. 7
thought as he stood shivering i
dark, and let his lips go on m
and moving.

They had this machine. Thcy had
two machines, really. One of them
slid down into your stomach like a
black cobra down an echoing well
looking for all thc old water and thc
old time gathered there, It drank up
the green matter that flowed to the
top in a slow boil. Did it drink of
the darkness? Did it suck out all the
үре accumulated with the years?

t fed in silence with an occasional
sound of inner suffocation and blind
searching. It had an Eye. The im-
personal operator of the machine
could, by wearing a special optical
helmet, gaze into the soul of the per-
son whom he was pumping out. What
did the Eye see? He did not say. Не
saw but did not see what the Eye saw.
The entire operation was по unlike
the digging of a trench in one's yard.
‘The woman on the bed was no more
than a hard stratum of marble they
had reached. Go on, anyway, shove
the bore down, slush up the empti-
ness, if such a thing could be brought
out in the throb of the suction snake.
The operator stood smoking a ciga-
rette. The other machine was work-
ing, too.

The other machine, operated by an
equally impersonal fellow in nonstain-
able reddish-brown coveralls. This ma-
chine pumped all of the blood from
the body and replaced it with fresh
blood and serum.

“Got to clean ‘em out both ways,”
said the operator, standing over the
silent woman, “No use getting the
stomach if you don’t clean the blood.
Leave that stuff in the blood and the
blood hits the brain like a mallet,
bang, a couple thousand times and

the brain just gives up, just quits."

7" said Montag.
They shut the machines up tight.
"We're donc." His anger did not even
touch them. They stood with the ciga-
rette smoke curling around their noses
and into their eyes without making
them blink or squint. “That's fifty
bucks.”
“First, wh
be all righi
“Sure, she'll be okay. We got all the
mean stuff right in our suitcasc here,
it can't get at her now, Ав I said, you
take out the old and put in the new
and you're okay."
"Neither of oyu is ап M.D. Why
didn't they send an M. D. from Етег-

don't you tell me if she'll

rency?”

“Hell!” Тһе operators cigarette
moved on his Пр. “We get these cases
nine or ten a night. Got so many,
starting a few years ago, we had the
special machines built. With the opti-
cal lens, of course, that was new; the
rest is ancient. You don't need an
M. D., case like this; all you need is
two handymen, clean up the problem
in half an hour. Look—" he started for
the door—" we gotta go. Just had an-
other call on the old ear-thimble. Ten
blocks from here. Somcone clse just
jumped off the cap of a pillbox. Call
if you need us again. Keep her т
We got a contrasedative in her. Shi
wake up hungry. So long.”

And the men with the cigarettes in
their straightlined mouths, the. men
with the eyes of puff adders, took up
their load of machine and tube, their
case of liquid melancholy and the slow
dark sludge of nameless stuff, and
strolled out the door.

Montag sank down into a chair and
looked at this woman. Her eyes were
closed now, gently, and he put out his
hand to feel the warmness of breath
оп his palm.

“Mildred,” he said, at last.

There are too many of us, he
thought. There are billions of us and
that’s too many. Nobody knows any-
one. Strangers come and violate you.
Strangers come and cut your heart ош.
Strangers come and take your blood.
Good God, who were those men? I
never saw them before in my life!

Half an hour passed

The bloodstream in this woman was
new and it seemed to have done a
new thing to her. Her cheeks were
very pink and her lips were very
fresh and full of color and they looked
soft and relaxed. Someone else's blood
there. If only someone else's flesh and
brain and memory. If only they could
have taken her mind along to the dry-
cleaner's and emptied the pockets and
steamed and cleansed it and reblocked
it and brought it back in the morning.
If only...

He got up and put back the drapes
and opened the windows wide to let
the night air (continued on page 18)

The Professor usually dis-
pensed his medicine by the
bottle, but the country girl’s
complaint called for more

than Indian Root Tonic.

FICTION

т HERE was nobody іп Rawley who
believed that Effie Henderson
would ever find a man to marry her,
and Effie herself had just about given
up hope. But that was before the
traveling herb doctor came to town.

Professor Eaton was a tall, gaunt
looking man with permanent, sewn-in
creases in his trousers and a high cel-
luloid collar around his neck. He may
have been ten years older than Effie,
or he may have been ten years young-
er, it was no more easy to judge his
age than it was to determine by the
accent of his speech from what section
of the country he had originally come.

He drove into Rawley one hot dusty
morning in mid-August, selling Indian
Root Tonic. Indian Root Tonic was
a beady, licorice-tasting cure-all in a
fancy green-blown bottle. The bottle
was wrapped in a black and white
label, on which the most prominent
feature was the photographic repro-
duction of a beefy man exhibiting his
expanded chest and muscles and his
postage-stamp wrestler’s trunks. Pro-
fessor Eaton declared, and challenged
any man alive to deny his statement,
that his Indian Root Tonic would
cure any ailment known to man, and

ite a few known oi

Effie Henderson was the first per-
son in town to give him a dollar for а
bottle, and the first to come back for
the second one.

"The stand that Professor Eaton had
opened up was the back seat of his
mud-spattered touring car. He had
paid the mayor ten ragged one-dollar
bills for a permit to do business in

12

Rawley, and Не had parked his ашо-
mobile in the middle of the weed-
grown vacant lot behind the depot.
He sold his medicine over the back
seat of his car, lifting the green-blown
bottles from a box at his feet as fast
as the customers came up and laid
down their dollars.

There had been a big crowd stand-
ing around in the wced-grown lot the

"ning before, but there were only
а few people standing around him lis-
tening to his talk when Effie came
back in the morning for her second
boule. Most of the persons there
then were Negroes who did not have a
dollar among them, but who had been
attracted to Ше lot by the alcoholic
fumes around the mud-caked automo-
bile and who were willing to be con-
vinced of Indian Root Tonics mar-
velous curative powers. When Effie
came up, the Negroes stepped aside,
nd stood at a dista hing Pro-
fessor Eaton get ready to make another
sale

Effie walked up to the folded-down
top in front of Professor Eaton and
laid down a worn dollar bill tha
as limp as a piece of w

“1 just had to come back this morn-
ing for another bottle," Effie said,
smiling up at Professor . "The
one 1 took last night made me feel
better than I have ever felt before іп
all my life. There's not another medi-
cine in the whole cou ike it, and
I've tried them all, p.”

“Pardon me, ш
Eaton sa "There
preparations on the г

Professor
hundreds of

by its true and trade-
marked name. Indian Root Tonic is
the name of the one and only cure for
ailments of any nature. [t is particu-
larly good for the mature woman,
am."

You shouldn't call me ‘madam,’ Pro-
fessor Eaton," Effie said, lowering her
head. "I'm just a young and foolish
girl, and I'm not married yet, either.”

Professor Eaton wiped the perspira:
tion from his upper lip and looked
down at Effie.

"How utterly stupid of me, my dear

lady,” he said. “Anyone can see
by looking at your fresh young face
that you are a mere girl. Indian Root
Tonic is particularly good for the
young maiden.”

Effie turned around to see if any of
the Negroes were close enough to hear
| what Professor Eaton had said. She
hoped that some of the women who
lived on her street would walk past
the corner in time to hear Professor
Faton talk like that about her.

“L never like to talk about myself,
but don't you think I am too young

arried, Professor Eaton?”
young lady,” he continued
after having paused long enough to re-
light his (continued on next page)

13

PLAYBOY

MEDICINE MAN кг ron pose 19

dead cigar, "Indian Root Tonic
is particularly good for the un-
married girl It ıs the greatest dis-
covery known to medical science since
the beginning of mankind. 1 person-
ally secured the formula for this mar-
velous medicine from an old Indian
chief out in our great and glorious
West, and 1 was compelled to promise
him on my bended knee that I would
devote the remainder of my life to trav-
eling over this great nation of ours of-
fering Indian Root Tonic to men and
women like you who would be helpless
invalids without it.”

He had to pause for а moment's
breath. It was then that he looked
down over the folded top and for the
first time looked at Effie face to face.
The evening before in the glare of
the gasoline torch, when the lot was
crowded with people pushing and
shoving to get to the medicine stand
before the special introductory offer
was withdrawn, he had not had time
to look at everyone who came up to
hand him a dollar for a bottle. But
now when he looked down and saw
Effie, he leaned forward to stare at

Oh, Professor Eaton,” Effie said,
“you are such a wonderful man! Just
to think that you are doing such a
great work in the world!”

Professor Eaton continued to stare
at Effie. She was as good-looking as
the next girl in town, not over thirty,
and when she fixed herself up, as she
had done for nearly two hours that
morning before leaving home, she us-
ually had all the drummers in town
for the day staring at her and asking
the storckeepers who she was.

After a while Professor Eaton
climbed down out of the back seat of
his car and came around to the rear
where she was. Не relit his cold cigar,
and inspected Effie more closely.

“You know, Professor Eaton, you
shouldn't talk like that to me," she
said, evading his eyes. "You really
don't know me well enough yet to call
me ‘dear gi This is the first time
we have been alone together, and—"

Why! I didn't think that а beau-
tiful young girl like you would serious-
ly object to my honorable admiration,"
he said, looking her up and down and
screwing up his mouth when she
plucked at her blouse. "It's so seldom
that I have the opportunity of seeing
such a charming young girl that I
must have lost momentarily all sense of
discretion. But, now that we are
fully acquainted with each other, I'm
sure you won't object to my devoted
admiration. Will you?”

"Oh, Professor Eaton," Effie said ex-
до you really and truly think
I am beautiful? So many men have
told me that before, I'm accustomed
to hearing it frequently, but you are
the first man to say it so thrillingly!”

She tried to step backward, but she

14

was already standing against the rear
of the car. Professor Eaton moved an-
other step closer, and there was no
way for her to turn. She would not
have minded that if she had not been
so anxious to have a moment to look
down at her blouse. She knew there
must Бе something wrong, surely
something had slipped under the
waist, because Professor Eaton had not
raised his eyes from her bosom since
he got out of the car and came down
beside her. Sh ondered then if
she should not have confined herself
when she dressed that morning, put
ing on all the u ments she wore
10 church on Sunday morning.

“Му dear girl, there is not the slight-
ew doubt m my mind concerning
your beauty. In fact, 1 think you аге
the most charming young girl it has
been my good fortune to encounter
during my many travels over this great
пишат of ours—írom coast to coast,

from the Lakes to the Gull
"You make me feel so young and
foolish, Professor Eaton!” Effie said,

smoothing her shirtwaist over her
bosom. “You make me feel like—"

Professor Eaton tuned abruptly and
reached into the back scat for a bottle
of Indian Root Tonic. He closed his
teeth over the cork stopper and
popped it out and, with no further
loss of time handed it to Effie.
"Have this one on me, my dear
he said, “Just drink it down, and
then see if it docsn't make you feel
even better still.

Effie took the green-blown bottle,
looking at the picture of the strong
man in wrestler's trunks.

"I drank the whole bottle I bought
last night,” she said. “I drank it just
before going to bed, and it made me
feel so good I just couldn't lie still. 1
had to get up and sit on the back
porch and sing а while."

“There was never a more benefi-
cal"

“What particular ailment is the
medicine good for, Professor Eaton?”

“Indian Root Tonic is good for
whatever ails you. In fact, merely as a
general conditioner it is supreme in its
field. And then on the other hand,
there is no complaint known to medi-
cal science that it has yet failed to
allevi-to help."

Effie turned up the bottle and drank
down the beady, licorice-tasting fluid,
all eight ounces of it. The Negroes
standing around the саг looked on
wistfully while the alcoholic fumes
from the opened bottle drifted over
the lot. Effie handed the empty bottle
to Professor Eaton, after taking one
last look at the picture on the label.

"Oh, Professor Eaton," she said,
coming closer, "it makes me feel better
already. 1 feel just like 1 was going
to rise off the ground and fly away
somewhere."

"Perhaps you would allow те"

“То do what, Profesor Eaton?
What”

He flicked the ashes from his cigar
with the tip of his little finger.

“Perhaps you would allow me to
escort you to your home,” he said.
“Now, its almost dinner-time, and I
was just getting ready to close up my
stand until the afternoon, so if you
will permit me, ГИ be very glad to
drive you home in my automobile.
Just tell me how to get there, and we'll
start right away.”

“You talk so romantic, Professor
Faton,” Effie said, touching his arm
with her hand. “You make me feel
just like a foolish young girl around

“Step this way please,” he said, hold-
ing open the door and taking her arm
firmly in his grasp.

After they had settled themselves іп
the front seat, Effie turned around
and looked at Professor Eaton.

“ГП bet you have had just lots and
lots of love affairs with young girls
like me all over the country

“On the contrary,” he said, starting
the motor, “this is the first time I have
ever given my serious consideration to
one of your sex. You see, Г apply my-
self faithfully to the promotion, distri-
bution, and sale of Indian Root Топ
But this occasion, of course, draws me
willingly from the cares of business.
In fact, I consider your presence in my
car a great honor. 1 have often wished
that 1 might

“And am I the first young girl—the
young woman you ever courted?”

olutely," he said. “Absolutely
ofesor Eaton drove out of the
vacant weed. grown lot and turned the

first

that distance neither of them spoke.
Effie was busy looking out to sce И
people were watching her ride with
Professor Eaton in his automobile, and
he was busily engaged іп steering

the deep whlte sand іп the
When they got there, Effie
о park the machine in front
of the gate where they could step out
and walk directly into the house.

They got out and Effie led the way
through the front door and into the
parlor, She raised one of the shades
a few inches and dusted off the sofa.

Professor Eaton stood near the mid-
dic of the room, looking uncasily
through the small opening under
the shade, and listening intently for
sounds elsewhere in the house.

“Just sit down here on the sofa be-
side me,” Effie 1 know I am per-
fectly safe alone with you, Professor
Eaton."

Effie closed her eyes and allowed
herself the pleasure of feeling scared
to death of Professor Eaton. It was an
even nicer (continued in overleaf)

"IIe^PIPO ours Aq 6661 1ЧЫз:А4оо Burar] өңі, өгү ом, шол peundoy

Filter Tip
CIGARETTES

KING SIZE

ALL MALL

ILLIONS of cigarette smokers are

beginning to wonder whether or
not they may be needing a treatment
after the treat. А series of experiments
with white mice has substantiated what
а good many scientists have long sus
pected — there is a definite correlation
between cigarette smoking and cancer
of the lungs.

The worry over what this news may
do to cigarette sales in 1954 would
probably have tobacco tycoons chain
smoking if thev weren't concerned
about their own health.

Actually the cigarette manufacturers
brought the subject up in the first
place. Though Old Gold tried to re-
verse the trend. by talking about be-
ing "tobacco men. not medicine men,
and "curing just onc thing, the world's
best tobacco," the great majority of
the cigarette companies kept pushing
the idea that, unlike most other cigar-
ettes, their brand screens out irritants,
guards against smoke scratch, ог В.
no adverse effect on the nose, thro:
and sinuses. Pall Mall popularized the
king size cigarette, not by plugging
the fact that you get more tobacco for
your money, but suggesting that “puff
for puff” the longer cigarette filters
out more irritating smoke.

E "be

^
гахаиег

cigarette consumption іп over twenty
years.

"It's defensive advertising that's do-
ing it" said market specialist Phil
Hedrick of the North Carolina. agri-
culture department at a recent. North
Carolina tobacco growers convention
"Instead of saying that cigarettes rc
lax you, comfort you, and soothe the
nerves, they deny that their brand will
give you a disease. TV has made it
much worse. They blow smoke in a
test tube and all that sort of stuff. 1
don't think folks paid much attention
to it over the radio, but it scares hell
out of them оп TV
"It still seems а little odd," editor-
ized the Raleigh Хеше & Observer,
that those who most emphasize the
possible bad effects of cigarettes on
people are the cigarette manufactur-
ers themselves

More than a little miffed by Kent's
advertising, Liggett & Myers (Chester-
ficld) brought out a competing brand,
named и L & M, and began promoting
thc idea that it not only did a better
job of screening out the impurities in
tobacco, but their specially patented
filter was, itself, purer than the "min-
eral" filter used by an unnamed, but
easily recognizable, competing brand.

сере

John. ‘Alden

CARETTES

GARETTES

Yu tolles.

eaae,

about the possibilitics of this medical
approach. a few scientists had to go
and put in their unsolicited two cents
worth. ‘There is an ingredient in all
cigarettes, regular, king size, filter tip
ped and the rest, they said, that can
cause lung cancer, In laboratory tests,
they had applied the tars from cigarette
smoke to the skins of white mice and
produced cancer. | Other doctors,
charting the disturbing rise in lung
cancer over the last twenty years, saw
а cause-and-effect relationship in the
similar rise in cigarette consumption
during the same period. After the age
of forty-five, they estimate а heavy
smoker's chances of contracting lung
cancer are fifty s greater than a
non-smoker's, and ione who smokes
a pack a day is rated a "heavy" smoker.

Scientists haven't. been able to iso-
late and identify the trouble-making
ingredient yet, but they do know that
cigar and pipe smokers don't have the
same high cancer correlation. This is
probably due, not to а difference
ingredients, but the fact pipe and
cigar smokers don't inhale deeply as
most cigarette smokers do.

The tobacco industry's first rcaction
10 the reports was no reaction at ай,
but the newspapers and national mag-

_ TOBACCOLAND

Some mice have just scared the hell out of cigarette manufacturers.

But it was Kent and their “Micro-
nite” filter that really threw the indus-
try а curve last year. Jonathan Blake
kept showing up on television and т
double-page magazine ads smoking five

different brands through a special
glass apparatus that left big, brown
stains on a sheet of paper. токе

were supposed to notice that Kent's
stain wasn't quite as big or brown as
those left by brands A. B, C, and D,
but some smokers were apparently suf-
ficiently impressed by the demonstr:

n to forget about smoking entirely.
1953 marked the first drop in U. S.

This offers a whole new approach to
the cigarette companies’ health cam-
[рїп (ел “I our competitors t
ассо doesn't get you, his filter
Viceroy, meanwhile, claimed the only
way to get real protection was to com-
bine a filter tip with the filtering ac
tion of a king size cigarette (Kent and
L & M аге both regular length). What's
more, Viceroy had graphs showing nic-
otine and tars to prove it; they were
almost as impressive and/or frighten-
ing as Kent's big, brown Stai
"Then, just sehen the cigarette people
were really beginning to get excited

azincs gave the news too much atten-
tion to be ignored very long. In Jan-
uary the industry made a joint state-
ment in full page newspaper advertise-
ments throughout the country. This
“Frank Statement To Cigarette Smok-
ers” took, understandably enough, a
rather dim view of the whole cigarete-
cancer idea; the reader was left with
the suspicion that the only thing the
tests proved was that white mice
shouldn't smoke. The manufacturers
questioned the conclusions drawn from
the tests, the correlations cited, the
validity of sta- (continued on page 43)

15

PLAYBOY

MEDICINE MAN с... pom page 19

feeling than the one she had had the
night before when she drank the first
bottle of Indian Root Tonic and got
into bed.

“And this is the ancestral home?" he
са.

“Don't let's talk about anything but
you-and me,” Effie said, "Wouldn't
you just like to talk about us?”

Professor Eaton began to fecl more
at сазе, now that it was evident that
they were alone in the house.

“Perhaps,” Professor Eaton said, sit-
ting closer to Effie and looking down
once more at her blouse, “perhaps
you will permit me to diagnose your
complaint. You see, I am well versed
in the medical science, and I can tell
you how many bottles of Indian Root
"Tonic you should use in your parti-
cular case. Naturally, some people
require a greater number of bottles
than others do."

Effie glanced out the window for
а second, and then she turned to Pro-
fessor Eaton.

"I won't have to—"

“Oh, no,” he said, “that won't be at
all necessary, though you may do as
you like about it. Г can just"

“Are you sure it’s perfectly all
right, Professor Eaton?"

"Absolutely," he said. bsolutely.

Effie smoothed her shirtwaist with
her hands and pushed her shoulders
forward. Professor Eaton bent towards
her, reaching for her hand.

He held her hand for a few seconds,
feeling her pulse, and then dropped it
to press his car against her bosom to
listen to her heartbeat. While he lis-
tencd, Effie tucked up a few strands
of hair that had fallen over her tem.

les.

"Perhaps,"
momentarily,
merely—"

"Of course, Professor Eaton," Effie
said excitedly.

He bent closer after she һай
fumbled nervously with the blouse and
pressed his head against her breasts.
Her heart-beat jarred his eardrum.

After а while Professor Eaton sat up
and loosened the knot in his necktie
and wiped the perspiration from his
upper lip with the back of his hand.
It was warm in the room, and there
was no ventilation. with the door
closed.

“Perhaps 1 have already told you”

“Oh, no! You haven't told me!” she
said eagerly, holding her hands tight-
ly clasped and look Җ down at her-

self with bated br lease go
ahead and tell me, Profesor Eaton!”

“Perhaps,” he said, fingering the
open needlework in her blouse,
perhaps you would like to know that
Indian Root Tonic is the only com
plete aid for general health on thc
market today, And in addition to its
general си properties, Indian
Root Tonic possesses the virtues most

he said, raising his head
"perhaps И you will

16

women find themselves in need of dur-
ing the middle and later stages of
life. In other words, it imparts a vital
force to the glands that are in most
need of new vitality. 1 am sure that
once you discover for yourself the mar-
velous power of rejuvenation that
Indian Root Tonic possesses, you will
never again be alone in the house
without it. In fact, | can say witho:
fear of successful contradict

Effie laid her blouse aside.

“Do you want me to take~

“Oh,
hastily.

"And this too,
This, too?"

Professor Eaton reached over and
pinched her lightly. Effie giggled and
passed her hands over her bosom as
though she were smoothing her shirt-
waist .

“I don't suppose you happen to have
another bottle of that tonic in your
pocket, do you, Professor Eaton?”

"I'm afraid I haven't," he said, “but

just outside in my car there are scv-
eral cases full. If you'll let me, ГИ step
out and—'
Oh, no!" Effie cried, clutching at
ms and pulling him back beside
- "Oh, Professor Eaton, don't leave
me now!"

"Very well" he said, sitting down
beside her once more. "And now as I
ing, Indian Root Tonics su-
powers of re"

"Professor Eaton, do you want me
to take off all of this—like this?”
. "And Indian
Root Tonic has never been known to
fail, whereas in зо many—"
to leave апу-

Professor Eaton?

а docor of
ience, in addition to my
many other Г need absolute
free Now, if you feel that you
cannot place yourself entirely іп my
hands, perhaps it would be better if

the medi

‘Oh, please don't go!" Effie cried,
ulling him back to the sofa beside
her. "You know I have complete con-
fidence in your abilities, Professor
Eaton. I know you wouldn't”

Woul do wha?” he asked,
looking down at her again.

"Oh. Professor Eaton! I'm just a
young girl!”

"Well, he said, "if you are ready to

place yourself entirely in my hands, 1
сап proceed with my diagnosis. Other-
wisc—"
I was only teasing you, Professor
Eaton!" Effie said, squeezing his hand
ОГ course, 1 trust you. You are such
a strong man, and 1 know you
wouldn't take advantage of a weak
young girl like me. If you didn't take
care of me, Га more than likely run
away with mysclf.”

"Absolutely," he said. "Now,
will continue removing the-

f you

here is only this left, Professor

Eaton," Effie said. "Are vou sure it
will be all right?"

"Absolutely."

"But 1 feel so—so bare, Professor
Eaton."

“Tis only natural to feel like that,”
he said, comforting her. "А young girl
who has never before experienced
the—"

“Experienced the what?

“Well—as | was sa

“You make me feel so funny, Profes-
sor Eaton, And are you sure—"

“Absolutely,” he said. “Absolutely.”

I've never felt like this before. It
feels like"

“Just place yourself completely іп
my hands, my dear young girl, and 1
promise nothing will-"

Without warning the parlor door
was thrown open and Effie’s brother,

Burke, came in. Burke was the town
marshall
“Is dinner ready, Effie’ Burke

asked, standing in the doorway and
trying to accustom his eyes to the near
darkness of the parlor, “It's a quarter
after twelve and—"

Burke stopped in the midst of what
he was saying and stared at Effie and
Professor Eaton. Effie screamed and
pushed Professor Eaton away from her.
He got up and stood beside Effie and
the sofa, looking first at Burke and
then at Effie. He did not know what
to do. Effie reached for the things
she had thrown aside. Professor Eaton
bent down and picked up зотешй
and threw it at her.

The room suddenly appeared to
Professor Eaton to Бе as bright as day.

"Well, ГИ Бе damned!" Burke зай
coming slowly across the floor. His
holster hung from his right hip, and
it swung heavily as he swayed from
мер to step. “ГИ be damned!

Professor Eaton stood first on one
foot and then on the other. He was be-
tween Effic апа her brother, апа һе
knew of no way by which he could
change his position in the room. Не
wished to get as far away from ЕШе
as he possibly could. Until she had
dressed herself he hoped he would not
be forced to look at

Burke stepped forward and pushed
Professor Eaton aside. He looked at
Ее and at the herb doctor, but he
gave no indication of what he intend-
ed doing.

Professor Eaton shifted the weight
of his body to his other foot, and
Burke's hand dropped to the top of
the holster, his fingers feeling for the
pearl handle that protruded from it.

Effie snapped a safety-pin and ran
between Burke and Professor Eaton.
She was still not completely dressed,
but she was fully covered.

“What are you going to do, Burke?"
she cried.

“That all depends on what the pro:
fessor is going to do," Burke said, still
fingering the pearl handle on the pis-
tol. "What is the professor going to
do?" (continued on page 47)

D.

“Miss Cummings is out, but if you'd care to come

in anyway, 1 think 1 know what to do."

FAHRENHEIT 451 с ее

in| It was two o'clock in the morn-
ing. Was it only an hour ago,
Clarisse McClellan in the street, and
him coming in, and the dark room
and foot kicking the little crystal
bottle? Only an hour, but the world
had melted down and sprung up in a
new and colorless form.

Laughter blew across the moon
colored lawn from the house of Clarisse
and her father and mother and thc
uncle who smiled so quietly and so
earnestly. Above all, their laughter was
relaxed and hearty and not forced in
any way, coming from the house that
was so brightly lit this late at night
while all the other houses were kept
to themselves in darkness. Montag
heard the voices talking, talking, talk-
ing. giving, talking, weaving, reweav-
ing their hypnotic web.

Montag moved out through the
French windows and crossed the lawn,
without even thinking of it. He stood
outside the talking house in the
shadows, thinking he might even tap
on their door and whisper, "Let me
come in. I won't say anything. 1 just
want to listen. What is it you're
saying?"

But instead he stood there, very
cold, his face a mask of ice, listening
10 a man's voice (the uncle?) moving
along at an easy pace:

"Well, after all, this is the age of
the disposable tissue, Blow your nose
on a person, wad them, flush them
away, reach for another, blow, wad,
flush. Everyone using everyone else's
coattails. How are you supposed to
root for the home team when you
don't even have a program or know
the names? For that matter, what
color jerseys аге they wearing as they
trot out on the Пещ?

Montag moved back to his own
house, left the window wide, checked
|, tucked the covers about her

carefully, and then lay down with the
moonlight on his cheekbones and on

the frowning ridges in his brow, with
the moonlight distilled in each eye
to form a silver cataract there.

One drop of rain. Clarisse. Another
drop. Mildred. A third. The uncle.
A fourth. Тһе fire tonight. One,
Clarisse. Two, Mildred. Three, Uncle.
Four, fire. One, Mildred, two Сізгіззе.
One, two, three, four, five, Clarisse,
Mildred, uncle, fire, sleeping tablets,
men disposable tissue, coattails, blow,
flush, Clarisse, Mildred, unde,
fire, tablets, tissues, blow, wad, flush.
One, two, three, one, two, three! Rain.
"The storm. The uncle laughing. Thun-
der falling downstairs. The whole
world pouring down. The fire gushing
up in a volcano. АШ rushing on down
around in a spouting roar and rivering
stream toward morning.

“I don't know anything any more,”
he said, and let a sleeplozenge dis-
solve on his tongue.

18

At nine in the morning, Mildred's
bed was empty.

Montag got up quickly, heart
pumping, and ran down the hall and
stopped at the kitchen door.

Toast popped out of the silver
toaster, was scized by а spidery metal
hand that drenched it with melted
butter.

Mildred watched the toast delivered
to her plate. She had both ears
plugged with electronic bees that were
humming the hour away. She looked
up suddenly, saw him and nodded.

“You all right?" he asked.

She was an expert at lip reading
from ten years of apprenticeship at
Seashell ear-thimbles. She nodded
again, She set the toaster clicking
away at another piece of bread.

Montag sat down.

His wife said, "I don't know why
I should be so hungry."

*You—"

m hungry."

"Last night," he began.
"Didn't sl well feel terrible,"
Ym hungry. I can't

about last night?’

"Don't you remember?"

"What? Did we have a wild party
or something? Feel like I've а hang
over. God, I'm hungry. Who
here?"

“A few people,” he said.

“That's what 1 thought" She
chewed her toast. “Sore stomach, but
Im ішу as all getout. Hope 1
didn't do anything foolish at the

party."

"No," he said, quietly.

The toaster spidered out a piece
of buttered bread for him. Не held
it in his hand, fecling obligated,
‘You don't look so hot yourself,”
said his wife.

In the late afternoon it rained and
the entire world was dark gray. Не
stood in the hall of his house, putting
on his badge with the orange sala-
mander burning across it. He stood
looking up at the air-conditioning
vent in the hall for a long time. His
wife in the TV parlor paused long
enough Írom reading her script to
glance up. "Hey," she said. “Тһе man's
thinking"

"Yes" he said. “1 wanted to talk
to you" He paused. "You took all
the pills in your bottle last night

“Oh, I wouldn't do that,” she
surprised.

“The bottle was empty.”

“L wouldn't do a thing like that.
Why would I do a thing like that?”
she said.

"Maybe you took two pills and
forgot and took two more, and forgot
again and took two more, and were
зо dopey you kept right on until you

id,

had thirty or forty of them іп you."

"Heck," she said, "what would 1
want to go and do a silly thing like
that for?”

“I don't know," he said.

She was quite obviously waiting for
him to go. "1 didn't do that," she said.
Never in a billion vears."

АН right if you зау so,”

“That's what the lady said
turned back to her script

“What's on this afternoon?" he

She didn't look up from the script
ag Well, this is а play comes on
the wall-to-wall it i i
They mailed me my part Ши
in some box-tops.
the script with one part missing. It's
a new idea. The homa er, that's
me, is the mi part. When it comes
time for the missing lines, they all
look at me out of the three walls and
1 say the lines. Here, for instance, the
man says, "What do you think of this
whole idea, Helen? And he looks at
me sitting here center stage, see? And
1 say, 1 say—" She paused and ran
her finger under a line on the script.
“1 think that's fine!’ And then they
go on with the play until he says,
"Do you agree to that, Helen? and
say, 1 sure do!” Isn't that fun, Gu

He stood in the hall looking at her.

“It’s sure fun,” she said.

"What's the play about?”

“I just told you. There are these
t named Bob and Ruth and

“Its really fun. 101 be even more
fun when we can afford to have the
fourth wall installed. How long you
ligure before we save up and get the
fourth wall torn out and a fourth
wall-TV put in? It's only two thousand
dollars."

“That's one-third of my yearly рау:

“11% only two thousand dollars,” she
replied. "And I should think you'd
consider me sometimes, If we had a
fourth wall, why it'd be just like this
room wasn't ours at all, but all kinds
of exotic people's rooms. We could do
without a few things."

“We're already doing without а few
gs to pay for the third wall. It
vas put in only two months ago, re-
member?"

“Is that all it was?" She sat looking
at him for a long moment. Well, good-
by, dear."

"Good.by," he said. He stopped and
turned around. "Does it have а happy
ending?"

"I haven't read that far."

He walked over, read the last page,
nodded, folded the script, and handed
it back to her. He walked out of thc
house into the rain.

"The rain was thinning away and the
girl was walking in the center of the
sidewalk with her head up and the
few drops falling on her face. She
smiled when she saw Montag.

"Hello" (continued on page 24)

He drank with curvy Mabel,
"The pace was fast and furious.
He slid beneath the table—
Not drunk, but merely curious.

When a French Lady Repre
aged to close all the
rance after the war,

they promptly opened up again

as private clubs, Shortly after-

ds an elderly gentleman, un
aware of the change, knocked at
the door of one of the ^

Having been instructed to -

that Ве was
с club, the
doorman first asked: “Active
member?”
“I hope so," the old man
replied.

A young man was out on a first
date with a rather fatchested
girl. The evening ended on the
sofa in the young lady's parlor.
Тһе boy put his arm around her
and made a few preliminary
passes.

The girl stiffened indignantly
“Here, here!" she exclaimed

“Where, where?" he replied.

The young man
prospective father-in-law: "Sir.
| would like to marry your
4: мет.”

Fm afraid, son," the older
man replied, "that you couldn't
support her in the manner to
which she is ассизго L

Your daughter and 1 have
talked it over, and she has coi
sented to live оп what I earn.

t But remember
that after awhile а little one may
come along, and that will mean
added expense.”

“Well, that’s true,
youth agreed, “but we've been
lucky so far."

dressed his

"Good heavens, Doctor! What
а terrific bill," the patient pro:

fellow,” the doctor
replied, “if you knew wh:
teresting case yours was
strongly I was tempted to let it
proceed to а postmortem, you
wouldn't complain at a bill three
times as big as thi

“That man made love to mc.
Judge.” said the plaintiff іп the
breach of promise suit. “He
promised to marry me, and then
he married another woman. He
broke my heart and I want
$10.00

She got it

The next case was a damage
suit brought by a woman who
had been run over by an automo-

* bile and had three ribs broken.

She was awarded $300.
Мога: Don't break their
hearts, kick ‘em in the ribs.

The old bull's active days were
over, but the kindly farmer per
mitted him t оп in the pas
ture with the cows. OF course,
the farmer also turned a young
bull loose in the field and the
newcomer went to work immedi-
ately. Sceing this, the old bull
began snorting and pawing the
ground with his hoof.

“You're wasting your
said the farmer. “You're
for that sort of thing now.

“I know," said the bull, "but I
can show him I'm not a сом,
can't 1"

The romantic yo
the park bench with a first date.
He was certain his charming
words and manner would win her
as they had so many others.
“Some moon out tonight,” he
соосй.
“There certainly is." she agreed.
“Some really bright stars in the
sky.”
She nodded,
the grass."
: she said indig
nandy, “but fm not that sort!”

The two television actors feigned
friendship. but secretly hated
cach other's guts, and took great
pleasure in giving one another
the needle on any and all occa-
sions. This particular evening
they met, quite by accident,
popular bar just off Broadway.
The conversation started inno-
cently enough. then one, with
sudden inspiration, ran his hand
over the other's bald head. and
exclaimed: od, Fred, that
feels just like my wife's derriere!"
Тһе other ran his own hand

Well ГИ be damned,
docs, so it does!"

PLAYBOY

ТО understand yourself, you must un

derstand the workings of the Human
Mind in the Head.

Let us take up first the allegedly

ormal" Human Mind, starting with
the over-all picture. I have drawn this
picture, showing the entire central nerv-
ous system of the average male and
the internal parts of the body that
relate to и (Figure I).

BRAIN A

MEDULLA
OBLONGATA С.

CLAVICLE, OR

COLLARBONE,
B
E С RIBCAGE
WALLET|
D KIDNEY
F SPINE

FIGURE 1
Tn anatomy class we had lady instructors.

Because of its central location we
shall consider first the spine (Е). I'm
sure all spine lovers will be pleased
when | state categorically that the
spine is the most important part of the
central nervous умп

At the top the spine is connected

nly with the base of the brain. At
the bottom the spine disappears into
the underwear. If it were not for the
spine, people would be pretty flabby,

nd if they sat down too quickly at
dinner their heads would fall forward
into the soup.

The spine was originally discov
by an carly Greek doctor and ama
anatomist named Vertebrac Anaxiu
Vertebrae discovered the spine ent
by accident. One afternoon his nurse
work wearing а barc-midriff

in the spirit of camaraderie
he slipped his arm around her waist,
put wd on her back, and there
и was (the spine).

During the next few months Verte-
brac spent many pleasant hours verily

ФА the Neuropathologists Convention
іп 1948 а Dr. Carl Gassoway insisted
on submitting a paper in which he
said that the medulla oblongata was
the most important part of the central
nervous system. There is nothing to be
said for this idiotic statement.

**Patented 280 В.С. by И. Anaxius,
Athens, Greece. No. VXXHLVXIV.
Later reports that the spine was dis-
covered by a Russian named Molo-
chev were politically inspired and en-
tirely fube.

20

ing his original impressions and was
well on his way to several other im-
portant discoveries when his experi-
мъ were brought to an abrupt close

n ugly scene with the nurses hus-
band. However, despite these distrac-
tions. Vertebrae did ascertain that the
spine is not one long continuous bone,
but a series of small segments held
together by flexible cartilage. Vertebrae

bout inside the mustard jar. and after
waiting a few minutes it sends another
p through the spine to the
ng. “T'is pretty casy for you
to say, "Don't bother Im busy.’
but I'm the one thats stuck, and, I
k опе should have а le con-
sideration for others."
And then it sends
and another and

nother message
other.

and How It Works

by Roger Price

a scientific treatise on the psychology of man,

with interpretive drawings by the author.

associates spent years and all
nds in various public places,
fying and naming these segments,
4 today, 2200 years later, in memory
of his work, we still refer to these
segments as “joints.”

‘The spine is connected to the most
unlikely parts of the body. It is con-
nected by means of “nerves.” These
nerves carry messages to the brain.
This is the spirie's chief function and
it is especially important in times of
Emergency. То illustrate: suppose а
typical Emergency arises. Say. for in-
stance, you get your elbow stuck in a
mustard

> Уә

FIGURE И

Normal Elbow
Elbow 5
(Fren

k In Mustard Jar
h Medium Dark)

Immediately, the elbow sends a mes-
sage to the spine and up through the
spine, past the collarbone, past the
T-zone. right up to the brain.
The mesage says. "Help. l'm stuck
in a mustard jar! Roger. Over. El-
bow.” But the brain, as we shall learn
а bit later. has тоге important thi
10 worry about, so it sends a message
back. saying. "Don't bother me; I'm
busy. Over and out.” Then it ignores
the whole situa
1 urally, induces a state of
irritability in the elbow. The elbow
begins по fret and mutter and shift

These messages. unanswered, begin
to pile up at the base of the brain
around the medulla oblongata (G, on
Figure 1), and they form a block.
This block interferes with the ac-
tivity of the central nervous system
(although the medulla oblongata i
very important part of same) and can
lead to several unpopular ment
functions; ie. Water on the Brain.
(Taken up in a few aphs. Don't
look ahcad. but r
Unless you have Water on the Brain,
in which case look ahead right away.)
Now that we have the proper back-
ground, we can take up the brain di-
rectly. Here we have a detailed draw
Г the Average Male Head, with
Male Nose. the Average
. and the Average Male

Sectional Drawing вс
Male Head

You will notice that the male brain
is divided into four basic parts, or
“regions.” They are:

1. Olfactory

2. Sensory

3. Auditory

4. Jane Russell

The term “Jane Russell.” which is
used to designate Part 4 (which may be
broken down into two subsclassifica
tions), will quickly be recognized as
the real cause of ай that trouble be-
tween brain and elbow during the late
unpleasantness (medium dark). Part 4
150 enjoys а predominate position in
the brain, taking up 92% of its total
area. As you сап see, this messes up
the balance.

This state of imbalance in the male
brain occasionally leads to various ec-
centricities such as marriage and shav-
ing.

THE FEMALE

1 think I can safely state that I һауе
a deep and accurate understanding of
the female nervous system and its те-
actions under emotional stress. 1 have
devoted many hours to gaining this
understanding, and 1 don't regret а
single dollar of it, 1 have discovered
that females are shorter. rounder. and
prettier than males, "They are shyer,
more sensitive, and friendlier. They
unduly suspicious nature
Чу obsessed with the
disgusting idea that they "must get іп
carly
Below, I have made a sectional draw-
ing of an Average Female Head with
the Average Female Hairdo, Nose, and
Chin, and the Aver:

ge Female Brai

FIGURE IV
Average Female Head

If you study the drawing carefully,
you will see that the female brain is
slightly smaller and less complex than
the male brain. The female brain is
divided into only two parts: (1) dollars
and (2) cents.

However, it has been proved that the
size of the brain has no connection
with intelligence, and the female brain,
aller, is much more active
Especially when
it comes to influencing the male brain
after 8:30 Р.М. Eastern Standard Ti

For some time I have been conduct-
ing a long-range series of tests to de-
termine the intelligence of a number
of females representing a cross section
of their sex.

Summed up, here are the results to
date:

Exnence
of Tests

bt as to the energy
inherent in thc female brain.

In addition to her brain. the fe
is abetted іп her ability to influence
the male brain by a well-developed
central nervous system of her own.
(бес Figure V.)

іс

=

1 went to a lot of trouble and ех
pense to make this drawing (52890.70,
mortized over a two-year period. to be
ct), and I haven't had time to do
100 much technical research, How-
ever, Пот this diagram we can see
that the female nervous system is
capable of taking care of itself.

It is, as a matter of fact, part of our

American tradition to give credit to
feminine intelligence stabilizing
and guiding force in all of man's en
deavors. This is ridiculous.
NOW that we know something about
the physical structure of the Human
Mind. lets sce what happens when
something goes wron it is certain
to, these days.

I like to compare the mind to a
delicately adjusted piece of machinery
that is turning out little beer-can ореп-
es. And I think of thoughts as the
little beercan openers, popping out
of the machine. When the machine
ıs turning out bent beer-can open-
біз, ог rusty becrcan openers, then
something has gone haywire with the
hinc. When а person's mind stops
ng out perlect beercan openers.
then that person is well on the way to
becoming Copeless (defined as the in-
ability cope with life). And he is
alo likely to wind up with a houscful
of beer cans that he is unable to open.
\ fine example of what cin happen
the mind when such a situation
avises is illustrated by the case of
Alva Edison. who sullered
ater on the Brain, a со
to males.

реси!
CASE ОҒ THOMAS ALVA EDISON *

When Thomas Alva Edison was born,
he was а normal. healthy child, but his
was sickly.
wrong with him.

1

There wa

ФА fictitious name used to protect re
identity of patient

but she was constantly taking his tem-
perature. Whenever she thought of it
she would shove a thermometer in his
mouth. ‘Thomas kept chewing the ends
of the thermometers
the mercury. In five years Thomas
swallowed the mercury ош of 231
thermometers. Then, when he was six
years old, they had а very warm sum-
mer. In two wecks Thomas was nine

FIGURE V
Female Nervous System

fect tall.

He was nine feet tall, but he only
weighed forty-three pounds. Не was
so tall and thin that whenever he got
imo the bathtub he had to coil, which
he considered undignified. He soon be-
gan to brood and fret, and іп по time
at all (fourteen years) he wound up in
my office. (continued on page 45)

al

“Опе тоте slip like that dearie,
and back to Minsky's.”

/

“Cynthia, darling. . 7"

“Be more convincing! You're mad,
see, you've lost а decision—the
crowd is jeering—people ате throw-
ing bottles. . .

“Do I take И then, Mr. Chadwick,
you disagree with Professor Van
Allen's review of your book?"

LESS than a decade ago. а wooden box
about the sive of an orange crate
moved into bars throughout the U. 5..
then imo the American home, and
promptly changed the living habits of
a э.

о one disputes the simple fact that
television has had a greater influence
on our society than the atom bomb.
The magic box with its many knobs
and blurry picture is the best inven-
tion for keeping the old man home

new meaning for all of us). їп
our architecture (those modern TV
antennas make a house look smart as
hell), and would have ruined the pop-
com industry if a smart promotion
man hadn't suggested eating the stuff
while wearing cardboard glasses.
PLAYBOY cartoonist Arv Miller

knows all about TV. He has been

А television studios since tl

d operating. was conn

it once reverently referred

to as the “Chicago School" of TV, was
one of the very first to draw cartoons
ма video, Now he has donc up a
number of very humorous drawings on
the subject, embellished them with
cually entertaining text, and had thes
published as а book titled ТР or mbt
TV by Blue Horizon Publishers. The
book pokes fun at every phase of
industry from producers, actors an
rectors in the studio до the home view

с boys who repair their sets.

PLAYBOY presents ese | pages

several of Е и Бок we (ы

especially amusing. N. ү,
CY

j

FAHRENHEIT 451 шь)

Не said hello and then said? Waat are
you up to now:

“I'm still crazy. The rain feels good.
1 Jove to walk in it”

“I don't think ГА like that" he
said.

“You might

"I never hav

She licked her lips.
tastes good."

“What do you do, go around trying
everything once?" he asked.

“Sometimes twice.” She looked at
something in her hand.

"What've you got there?" he said.
Г guess it’s the last of the dan-
delions this year, 1 didn't think I'd
find one оп the lawn this late. Have
you ever heard of rubbing it under
your chin? Look.” She touched her
chin with the flower, laughing.

you tried."

“Rain even

“И it rubs off, it me
Has ie”

Hc could h
Рак look.
Well?" she said,

‘You're yellow under there.”
Fine! Let's try you now
“Ie won't work for me."

"Here." Belore he could move she
had put the dandelion under his
chin, He drew back and she laughed.
“Ном still!

She peered
frowned

“Well?” he said.

“What а shame," she said.
not in love with anyone."
Yes, ] am!”

“It doesn't show

“Lam, very much in love!" He tried
10 conjure up а face to fit the words,
but there was no face. “I
Oh, please don't look that way
“из that dandelion,” he зав.
ошус used it all up оп yourself.
That's why it won't work for me
‘Of course, that must be it. Oh now
I've upset you, I сап see 1 have; I'm
sorry, really I am." She touched his
elbow,

No. по,
all right.
"ve got to be going, so say you
forgive me, 1 don't want you angry
with me.”

"m not angry. Upset. yes."

"ve got to go sce my psychiatrist
now. They make me go. I make up
things to say. 1 don't know what he

s I'm іп love.

rdly do anything else

under his chin and

"You're

һе

1. 9

thinks of me. He says I'm a regular
onion! 1 keep him busy peeling away
the layers.”

24

Vm inclined to believe you need
the psychiatrist," said Montag..

“You don't mean that

He took a breath and let it out
at last said. "No. 1 don't mean that.

“The psychiatrist wants to know
why 1 go out and hike around in the
forests and watch the birds and collect
butterllics. ГИ show you my collection
some day."

"Good."

“They want to know what I do with
all my time. I tell them that sometimes
1 just sit and (hink! But 1 won't tell
Гуе got ih ing.
And sometimes, I tell them, I like to
ad back. lı is, and let
the rain fall in my mouth. It tastes
just like wine. Have you ever tried

“No, 1-
You have forgiven me, haven't
you?’

"Yes" He thought about it. "Yes,
I have. God knows why. You're ре.
culiar, you're aggravating. yet you're
casy to forgive. You say you're seven-
teen?”

Well—next month.”

“How odd. How strange. And my
wife thirty and yet you scem so much
older at times, 1 can't get over it."

“You're peculiar yourself, Mr. Mon-
ug. Sometimes Г even forget you're
a fireman. Now, may I make you
angry again?
ж ahead."

“How did it мап? How did you get
imo и? How di k your work
and how did you happen to think to
take the job you have? You're not like
the others. I've seen a few; I know.
When I talk, you look at me. When I
said something about the moon, you
looked at the moon, last night. The
others would never do that. The
others would walk off and leave me
talking. Or threaten me. No one has
time any more for anyone else. You're
one of the few who put up with me.
Thats why I think it’s so strange
you're a fireman, it just doesn't seem
right for you, somehow.

He felt his body divide itself into
a hotness and а coldness, а softness
and a hardness, а trembling and а not
trembling, thc two halves grinding
onc upon the other.

“You'd better run on to your ap-
pointment,” he said.

And she ran off and left him stand-
ing there in the rain. Only alter a
long time did he move.

And then, very slowly, as he walked,
he tilted his head back іп the rain,
for just а few moments, and opened
his mouth. . . .

The Mechanical Hound slept but
did по! sleep. lived but did not live
in its gently humming. gently vibrat-
ing. softly illuminated kennel back in
а dark corner of the firehouse. The
dim light of one in the morning. the
moonlight from the open sky framed

through the great window, touched
here and there on the brass and the
copper and the stecl of the faintly
trembling beast. Light flickered on
bits of ruby glass and on sensitive
capillary hairs іп the Nvlon-brushed.
nostrils of the creature that quivered
gently, gently, its eight legs spidcred
under it оп rubber-padded paws.
Montag slid down the brass pole.
He went out to look at the city and
the clouds had cleared away com
pletely, and he lit a cigarette and came
back to bend down and look at the
Hound. It was like а great bee come
home from some field where the honey
is full of poison wildness, of insanity
and nightmare, its body crammed with
that overrich nectar and now it was
slecping the evil out of itself.

"Hello," whispered Montag, fasci-
nated as always with the dead beast,
the beast.

Nights when things got dull, which
was every night, the men slid down
the brass poles, and set the ticking
combinations of the olfactory system
of the Hound and let loose rats in
the firehouse areaway, and sometimes
chickens, and sometimes cats that
would have to be drowned anyway,

nd there would be betting to see
which of the cats or chickens or rats
the Hound would seize first. The
imals were turned loose, Three
seconds later the game was done, the
rat, cat, or chicken caught half across
the areaway. gripped іп gentling paws
while a fourinch hollow steel needle
plunged down from the proboscis of
the Hound to inject massive jolts of
morphine or procaine. The pawn w:
then tossed in the incinerator. A new
game began.

Montag stayed upstairs most nights
when this went оп. There had been
а time two years ago when he had
bet with the best of thei d lost
a week's salary and faced Mildred's
insane anger, which showed itself
veins and blotches. But now nights
he lay in his bunk, face turned to the
wall, listening to the whoops of laugh
ter below and the pianostring. scurry
of rat feet, the violin squeaking of
mice, and the great shadowing, mo-
tioned silence of the Hound leapi
out like a moth in the raw light.
g holding its victim, inserting
needle and going back to из kennel
to dic as И a switch had been turned.

Montag touched the muzzle.

The Hound growled.

Montag jumped back.

The Hound half rose in its kennel
md looked at him with green-bluc
neon light flickering in its suddenly
activated cyebulbs. It growled again.
a strange rasp ion of
clectrical sizzle, a frying sound, a scrap-
ing of metal, a turning of cogs thi
scemed rusty and ancient with suspi-
n.

"No. по, boy," said Montag. his
heart. pounding

Не saw the silver needle extend
upon the air ап inch, pull back, ex-
tend, pull back. The growl simmered

in the beast and it looked. at him.

Montag backed up. The Hoi
took а мер from its kennel
grabbed the brass pole with one hand.
The pole, reacting, slid upward, and
took him through the ceiling, quietly.
He stepped off in the Найли deck of
the upper level. He was trembling and
his face was grecn-white. Below. the
Hound had sunk back down upon its
бірім incredible insect legs and was
humming to itself again. its multi-
faceted eves at peace.

Montag stood. letting the fears
pass by the drop.hole. Behind him.
а card table under а
pree light in the comer
glanced briefly bur said nothing. Only
the man with the Captain's hat and
the sign of the Phoenix on his hat,

last, curious, his playing cards in
his thin hand, talked across the long
room.

1)

Montag. .
It doesn't like me,
What, the Hound?" The Captain
studied his cards. tome off и. It
doesn't like or dislike. It just "func
t Ии» like a lesson in ballistics.
Jt has a trajectory. we decide on for
it, И follows through. И targets itself,
homes itsell, and cuts off, Its only
wire storage batteries, and elec

said. Montag.

Montag swallowed. “Из calculators
can be set to any combination, so
many amino acids, so much sulphur,
so much buuerfat and alkaline.
Right?"
"We all know that.
"MI of those chemical balances and
percentages on all of us here in the
Jouse are recorded in the master file
downstairs. It would be easy for some-
one to set up a partial combination
on the Hound's "memory. a touch of
по acids. perhaps. That-would ac
count for what the animal did just
now. Reacted toward me.”
“Hell.” said the Captain.
“Irritated. but not completely angry.
Just enough "memory! set up in it b:
Someone %0 it growled when 1 touched

Who would do a thing like that?"
Кей the Captain. "You haven't any
enemics here, Guy."

None that 1 know of.”

“We'll have the Hound checked by
our technicians tomorrow.

This isn't the first time it’s threat
ened me." said Montag. "Last month
и happened twice.”

We'll fix it up. Don’t worry.”

But Montag did not move and only
stood thinking of the ventilator grille
the Вай at home and what lay hid-
den behind the grille. И someone here
in the firehouse knew about the venti-
laor then тірші they “tell” the
Hound ... 7?

The Captain came over to the drop-
hole and gave Montag а questioning
glance.

1 was just figuring.” said Монар.
“what does the Hound think about
down there nights? [s it coming alive
on us, really? It makes me cold."

Montag"

ink anything we don't
want it to think.

“That’s sad," said Montag, quietly.
"because all we put into it is hunting
and finding and killing, What a shame
if that's all it can ever know.

Beatty snorted. gently. "Hell! It's a
fine bit of craftsmanship. а good rifle
that сап fetch its own taret and
guarantees the bullseye every timi

“Thats why," said Montag, "I
Пап want to be its next victim."
Why? You got a guilty conscience
about something?

Montag glanced up swiftly.

Beatty stood there looking at him
steadily with his eyes, while his mouth
opened and began to laugh, very
soltly

One two three four five six seven
days. And as many times he came out
of the house and Clarisse was there
somewhere in the world. Once he saw
her shaking a walnut tree, once he
saw her sitting on the lawn knitting a
blue sweater, three or four times he
found a bouquet of late flowers on
his porch, or a handful of chestnuts
in a Ише sack, or some autumn leaves
atly pinned to а sheet of white
paper and thumbtacked to his door.
very day Clarisse walked him to the
comer. One day it was raining, the
next it was clear, the day after that
the wind blew strong, and the day
after that it was mild and calm, and
the day after that calm day was a day
like the furnace of summer and
Clarisse with her face ай sunburnt
by late afternoon.

“Why ds it,” he said.
the subway entrance,
known you so many
Because 1 like you
1 don't want anything from yor
because we know each other,’

"You make me feel very old and
very much like а father."

Now you explain," she said, "why
you haven't any daughters like me, И
you love children so much?"
don't know.
You're joking!

mean—" He stopped and shook
his head. Well. my wife, . she
just never wanted any children at all.”

The girl stopped smiling. "Im sorry.
I really thought you were having fun
at my expense. I'm а fool

“Ко, no," he said. "It was а good
question. It's been а long time since
anyone cared enough to ask. А good
question.”

ets talk about something else.
Have you ever smelled old icaves?
Don't they smell like cinnamon? Herc.
Smell.

"Why. yes. it îs like cinnamon
а way.”

She looked at him with her ch

dark eyes. "You always seem shocked.

rs just 1 haven't had time”

Did you look at the stretched-out

billboards like I told you?"

think so. Yes.” Не had to laugh.
laugh sounds much nicer thar

wi

me time, at
1 feel Tve

it did."
“Does и?”

“Much more relaxed.”

He felt at case and comfortable.
“Why aren't you in school? 1 see you
every day wandering around.”

“Oh, they don't miss me,” she said.

I'm antisocial, they say. 1 don't mix.
It's so strange, I'm very social indeed.
її all depends on what you mean by
social, doesn't и? Social to me means

alking to you about things like this."
She rauled some chestnuts that had
fallen off the tree in the front yard.
"Or talking about how strange the
world i. Being with people is nice.

But 1 don't think it's social to get a
bunch of people together and then
not tet them talk, do you? An hour
of TV class, an hour of basketball or
bascball or running, another hour of

transcription history or painting
pictures, and more sports, but
do you know, we never ask
questions, or at least most

they just run the answers at you, bing.
bing. bing, and us sitting there for
four more hours of film teacher. Th:
not social to me at all. It's a lot of
funnels and a lot of water poured
down the spout and out the bottom,
nd them telling us it's wine when
it's not. They run us so ragged by the

4 of the day we can't do занаи
but go го bed or head for a Fun Pa
to bully people around, break window-
panes in the Window Smasher place
or wreck cars in the Саг Wrecker
place with the big steel ball. Or go
out in the cars and race on the streets.
trying to see how close can get
to lampposts, playing ‘chicken’ and
‘knock hubcaps.’ I guess Fm every-
thing they say 1 am, all right. I haven't
y friends. That's supposed to prove
I'm abnormal, But everyone I know
is either shouting or dancing around
like wild or beating up one another.
Do you notice how people hurt each
other nowadays?"

“You sound so very old.
‘Sometimes I'm ancient. Im afraid
of children my own age. They kill
each other, Did it always used to be
that way? My uncle says no. Six of my
friends have heen shot in the last year
alonc. Ten of them died in car wrecks.
I'm afraid of them and they don't like
me because I'm afraid. My uncle says
his grandfather remembered when
children didn't kill cach other. But
that was a long time ago when they
had things different. They believed
іп responsibility, my uncle says. Do
you know, I'm responsible. 1 was
spanked when 1 needed it, years ago.
And 1 do all the shopping and house-
cleaning by hand.

"But most of all," she said. "I like
to watch people. Sometimes 1 ride the
subway all day and look at them and
сп 10 them. 1 just want to fig-
ше out who they are and what
they want and where they're
going. Sometimes 1 even go to the
Fun Parks and ride in the jet cars
when they race on the edge of town
at midnight and the police don't care
as long as they're insured. Ав long ак
everyone has (continued on page 28)

25

IPW "оу wung ицог Jo ќхәрпоо)

HLNOW зна ЗО 31VWAVld S.AOSAV Id

НӘЧУИ 55И

ҒА HRENHEIT 451 nem

ten thousand insurance everyone's
happy. Sometimes I sncak around and
listen in subways. Or I listen at soda
fountains, and do you know what?”

don't talk about anything.”
ЭВ, they must!”

"No. not anything. They name а
lot of cars or clothes or swimming
pools mostly and say how swell! But
they all say the same things and no-
body says anthing different from any-
опе else. And most of the time in the
cafes they have the joke-boxes on and
the same jokes most of the time, or
the musical wall lit and all the colored
patterns running up and down, but
it’s only color and all abstract. And
at the museums, have you ever been?
All abstract. That's all there is now.
My uncle says И was different once.
A long time back sometimes pictures
said things or even showed people."
Your uncle said, your uncle said.
Your uncle must bc а remarkable
man.

"He is. He certainly is. Well, I got
to be going. Goodby, Mr. Montag."

“Goodby.
ioodbby. . . ."

One two three four five six seven
days: the firehouse.

"Моп you shin that pole
а bird пра tree.
іга да;

fontag, 1 see you came іп the back
door this time, The Hound bother

Fourth day.

"Montag, a funny thing. Heard tell
this morning. Fireman in Seattle, pur-
posely set а Mechanical Hound to his
own chemcial complex and let it loose.
What kind of suicide would you call
that?"

Five, six, seven days.

And then, Clarisse was gone. Не
didn't know what there was about
the afternoon, but it was not seeing
her somewhere the world. The
lawn was empty, the trees empty, the
street empty, and while at fist he
did not even know he sed her or
g for her, the fact was
пе he reached the sub-

сазе Samii жаз Ше matter,
his routine had been disturbed. А
simple routine, true, established in a
short few days, and yet . . 2 He almost
turned back to make the walk again,
to give her time to appear. He was
cert if he tried the same route,
everything would work out fine. But
it was late, and the arrival of his train
put a stop to his plan.

28

The flutter of cards, motion of
hands. of eyelids, the drorte of the
timevoice іп the firchouse ceiling
- опе thirty-five, Thursday mom-
ing. November 4th, . . . one thi
2. one thirtyseven A.M. .
tick of the playing cards on the greasy
table top, all the sounds came to
Montag, behind his closed eyes, be-
hind the barrier he had momentarily
erected. He could {cel the firehouse
full of gliuer and shine and silence,
of brass colors, the colors of coins, of
gold, of silver. The unseen men across
the table were sighing on their cards,
waiting. ". . . one forty-five. . ." The
voice clock mourned out the cold hour
of а cold morning of a still colder

y

What's wrong, Montag?"

Montag opened his eyes.

A radio hummed somewhere. “. . .
war may be declared any hour. Thi
country stands ready to defend its. . .

The firehouse trembled as а great
flight of jet planes whistled a single
note across the black morning sky.

Montag blinked. Beatty was looking
at him as И he were a museum statue.
At any moment, Beatty might rise and
walk about him, touching, exploring
his guilt and self-consciousness. Guilt?
What guilt was that?

"Your play, Montag.”

Montag looked at these men whose
faces were sunburnt by a thousand
real and ten thousand imaginary fires,
whose work flushed their checks and
fevered their eyes. These шеп who
looked steadily into their platinum

igniter flames as they lit their eternally
burning black pipes. They and their
charcoal hair and soot-colored brows

and bluish-ashsmeared checks where
they had shaven close; but their herit-
age showed. Montag started up, his
mouth opened. Had he ever seen a
fireman that didn't have black hair,
black brows, a fiery face, and a blue-
steel shaved but unshaved look? These
men were all mirror images of himself!
Were all firemen picked then for their
looks as well as their proclivities? The
color of cinders and ash about them,
and the continual smell of burning
from their pipes. Captain Beatty there,
rising in thunderheads of tobacco
smoke. Beatty opening a fresh tobacco
packet, crumping the cellophane into
a sound of fire.

Montag looked at the cards іп his
own hands. “1—Гус been thinking
About the fire last week. About the
man whose library we fixed. What
happened to him?”

They took him screaming off to
asylum.”
He wasn't insane.”

fool the government and
“Тус tried по imagine.”

said "Mon
tag, "just how it would feel. 1 méan,
to have firemen burn our houses and
our books.

“We haven't any books."

"But if we did have some."

Beatty blinked slowly,

"No" Montag gazed beyond them
to the wall with the typed lists of a
million forbidden books. "Their names
leapt in fire, burning down the years
under his ax and his hose which
sprayed not water but kerosenc. "No."
But in his mind, a cool wind started
ир and blew out of the ventilator
grille at home, softly, softly, chilling
his face, And, again, he saw him-

as it al
с eer our
once upon а

ways like u
work? 1 mean, well,
іше...”

"Опсе upon а time!"

Beatty said.

What kind of talk is that.”
Fool thought Montag to himself,
At the last fire,

you'll give it away.
a book of
single line.
old days, before homes were com-
pletely fireproofed—" Suddenly it
seemed a much er voice was
opened his

saying "Didn't firemen prevent fires
rather than stoke them up and get
them going?”

“Th

« which also
contained brief histories of the Fire-
men of America, and laid them out
where Montag, though long fami
them, might read:
Established, 1790, to burn Eng-
(ced books in the Colo-
nies. Рим Firema Benjamin

Franklin."

Ки 1. Answer the alarm quickly.

2. Start the fire swiftly.

3. Burn everything.

4. Report back to firehouse
immediately.

5. Stand alert for
Alarms.

Everyone watched Montag. He did
not

The alarm sounded.

The bell in the ceiling kicked itself
two hundred times. Suddenly there
were four empty chairs. The cards
fell in a flurry of snow. The brass
pole shivered. The men were gone.

Montag sat in his chair. Below, the
orange dragon coughed to life.

Montag slid down the pole like a
man in a dream.

‘The Mechanical Hound leapt up in
its kennel, its eyes all green flame.

“Montag, you forgot your helmet!"

He seized it off the wall behind him,
ran, leapt, and they were off, the
night wind hammering about their
мгеп scream and their mighty metal
thunder!

It was a flaking three-story house іп
the ancient part of the city, a century
old if it was a day, but like all houses
it had been given a thin fireproof
plastic sheath many years ago, and this
preservative shell seemed to be the
only thing (continued on page 35)

other

САЗАМОУА

0

CASANOVA'S HOME-COMING

|

LCL!

the great metropolitan doilies.

it

i

|

oy

THE NEW YORKER—This metropolitan design trons-
plants country charm into the heart of the city. It is
amid such surroundings фо! the harried business ty-
сооп may recapture the nostalgia of his youth while
keeping an eye on the possing activities of his urban
stronghold. It is well to remember that in large urban
oreos, where living is more competitive, distinction lies
in being seen and recognized in the best places. What
could better call attention to one’s position than being
seen in one of the really smart spots for which the
Big City is noted. Located а! the crossroads, this
swank edifice is the last word in achieving prestige
and social acceptance. Discreet attendants, working
with feline precision, meet every need, supplying, on
the request of guests, television, radio and telephone
services, even magazines and the latest editions of

The Outhouse Beautiful

FRANK Lloyd Wright brought modern design to
the home, Wallace Harrison produced new con-
cepts in skysera ank O'Beirne has
brought the exciting simplicity of modern archi
tecture to that basic structure of rural life — the
outho

Mr. O'Beirne believes the outdoor commode is
about to enjoy a return to popularity and his
designs successfully adapt the outhouse to city
living. He explains he has nothing against inside

ple pleas
ез of the old-fashioned outhouse bots do the
harried city-dweller more good than the plushiest
psychiatrist's couch.

Frank O'Beirne's drawings have been collected
in a book titled, appropriately enough, Johns,
lished by Louis Ма Three of most

т аг Мг. O'Beirne has
knowledge his indebtedness
ion these plans

asked us to publicl
10 B.M., without whose coop
would not have been possible

THE DAILY DOUBLE—They’re off! And where could the
view be better than right on the ғай? Mabel’s "Best
Works" and Clem's "Long Uns" are studied here under
gratifying circumstances. A favorite with many horse-
players, the architecture conforms to the best traditions of
the track, Blending as it does with its horsey surroundings,
even the aroma plays a strong part in the enjoyment of a
day at the races. A perfect vantage point to secure the best
possible selection from your scratch sheet.

= E уя

THE RUMBLE SEAT—This little “Johnny-on-the-spot” pro-
vides the kind of high speed comfort found only in the
better Pullmans. It offers, too, the thrilling experience that
comes in riding the observation car of a streamlined train.
For fomily travel, where time-consuming stops are annoy-
ing, there is no equol to this smartly engineered master-
piece. An automotic safety belt gives the rider utmost
protection against quick starts and sudden stops. And for
full riding pleasure gas fumes are quickly disposed of by
another outomatic feature. A cross-country time-saver, the
Rumble Seat can be painted to match your car.

31

tales from the DECAMERON

A new translation of one of the choicest stories from Boccaccio’s bawdy classic.

THE 7th TALE OF THE 7th DAY

In Paris there once lived a Florentine
костап who, because of poor fi
nancial circumstances, had become a
merchant, and who prospered so at his
trade that he became very rich. He
son named Lodovico, and want-
ng thc boy to become a nobleman
rather than one of the trade, he did
not put him to work, but sent him
instead to be with other gentlemen in
the service of the King of France,
where he learned good manners and
other fine things.

While Lodovico was at court, he fell
in with certain knights who had just
returned from the Holy Land. ‘They
spoke of the fair ladies of France and
England and other parts of the world.
One of the group said that in all the
lands he had travelled, the most beaut
ful woman he had сусг seen
Madam Beatrice, the wife of Egano de
Galluzzi, of Bologna: and ай his com-
panions who had been to Bologna
agreed with him.

When Lodovico, who had псусг
been in love, heard this, he was fired
with such a longing to sce this lady
that he could think of nothing else,
and he resolved to journey to Bolog

for that purpose. He told his father
that he wished to visit the Holy Land
and after some difficulty, he obtained
permission to

А: ng the v
icdiately to Bologn:
luck would have it. the day after his
there, he saw the Таду of his
s at a feast, and found her to be
сусп more bc. than he had
imagined. He fell violently in love
with her on the spot, and resolved
that he would never leave Bologna till
he had won her.

After some thou; on the matier,
he determined to become one of her
husband's servants so that he might be
near her. Therefore, he disposed of
his horses and ser and, through
а mutual friend. арр

was
ly happy and served Fgano
ner so pleasing that he was
soon governing both his master’s per-
sonal and business

out Anichino
afternoo

nd the latter spent the
playing chess with Madam

Beatrice. “The lady жаз пог yet
of Anichino's love, but
with the servant's behav
ng to please her, Ani-
allowed. self to be
ighted the lady great-
у пе the lady's woman servants
withdrew, leaving them playing alone,
and as the game ended, Anichino
cd a great sigh.
is the mater, Anichino?"
m Beatrice asked. "Does it hurt
you so to be beaten at chess?
"Аһ, Madam," hc replied, "it is for
a aportant reason that I

she requested,
“I fear the reason may displease
you,” Anichino said, "and that you
reveal it to someone else.”
t will certainly not annoy me,
Anichino,” the lady replied, “and 1
you that 1 shall not repeat
nyone unless you

Then, ‘with ‘tears, in, his. eyes, Ani-
chino told his lady who he really was,
what he had heard of her, when and
how he had fallen in love with her,
and why he had taken his present posi
tion with her husband. Having so
confessed, he prayed that she might

At the appointed hour, Anichino entered his lady's bed chamber.

32

return. his love, but if 0 were not
possible, he asked only that she keep
ecret so that he might remain near
her husband's employ.

As Anichino spoke, the gentle lady
kept her eyes fixed on Вип, and was,
t last, so moved by his words, his tears
nd sighs, that she was sighing deeply

weet Anichino," she said at last,
have been courted by many noble-
and gentle given many gifts
ses of love, but my heart has
cen moved to love for any one
ol them—yet you, in this small space of
time that your words have lasted, have
t lar more yours than my
have earned my

this evening has
passed, you shall have it. Come at mid-
night to ту chamber—I leave the
door open. You know upon which
side of the bed 1 lie. Approach, and
ср. touch me so that I wake,

and I will case you of this long desire.
And so that you will believe what 1
tell you, here is a small nibble from
the fruit of lov
aying. the lady threw her arms

and kissed him with great

passion.

After this, Anichino departed to per
lorm his dutics, awaiting the night
with the greatest joy able.
Едапо returned from hawking and, be
ing weary, retired immediately after
supper. The lady followed soon after,
and left the bedroom door open as she
had promised.

At the appointed hour,
came and softly entered th
closing the door behind

Anichino
chamber,
Then

going to the side of the bed on which
is lady lay, he put his hand on her
breast and found her awake. As soon
as she felt his presence, she took his
hand in hers, then turned to her hus-
band and woke him, saying:

“Dear husband. I did not mention
this at supper for I knew you were
weary, but now I must speak. Tell me,
which of your many servants do you
consider most honest and faithful?"

"Foolish wife," said Egano, "what
manner of question is this? You know,
of course, that I love and trust Ani-
«hino above all my other servants.
Why do you ask?"

ino. secing Egano awake, and
eus talk of h den tried to draw
his hand away and leave the bedside,
fearing that the lady intended to be-
tray him. But she held him so tightly
that he could not pull free without
chancing discovery.

“1 will tell you why, my husban
said the lady. “I believed as you do
till today, but he has deceived us both.
s very afternoon. while you were
iway hawking, Anichino approached
me and asked me to yield 10 his pleas-
ures. То prove this outrageous thing
to you, 1 consented, and agreed to тесі
him tonight just after midnight, be
ncath the pine trec in the garden.
of course, have no intention of going
there, but you, my husband, may don

y clothing and a veil and go in my
place. Thinking you are 1, Anichino
will betray himself to you, ‘and prove

assertion.”

this rondez
vous, йу, “and if
what you say is true, 1 shall thrash
Anichino within an inch of his life.
So saying, the husband put on hi

dress and veil, and picking out
3 heavy cane from his canc stand, went
down into the garden to await Ani-
chino at the чес.

Аз soon as Е had gone, the lady got
out of bed and locked the bedroom
door. Anichino had felt the greatest
fear imaginable in his hiding place
beside the bed and had struggled to
free himself from the lady's grasp.
cursing a thousand times both her and
her love, and himself for trusting her.
But when he realized her real inten-
tion, his fear turned to great joy. Hav-
ing locked the chamber door. the lady
turned 10 her bed; Anichino un-
dressed and got іп with her, and to-
gether they took their joy and pleasure
for so time.

pally, the lady thought that Ani-
ching should stay no longer, and so
made him rise and dress, and said to
him

“My dearest, take опе of Евапоз
canes for yourself and go down to the
garden where he waits. Pretend that
you spoke to me this afternoon to
test me, then abuse Egano as though
you thought him to be me—thrashing
him as soundly as he plans to thrash
you.”

Anichino went down into the gar-
в.

den and when Ерапо saw him comi
he rose in his feminine disguise,
though to greet him. But Anichino
said:

“Wicked woman, so you have come
here expecting me to wrong my master.
A thousand curses upon you!”

And lifting his stick he began to
beat Egano, who fled from the spot
without utt а word. Anichino
called after. him:

“God will punish you, evil woman
and tomorrow 1 shall tell. Ерапо!”

Ерапо returned to his bedroom as
quickly as his legs and the ill-fitting
costume would and once in-
side, his wile ed him if Anichino
had come to the garden. Whereupon,
Egano said:

Indeed, I wish that he had not, for
it was all a trick to test your faithful-
ness to me. Thinking I was you, Ani-
chino beat me with a stick and cursed
me as а wicked woman.

Praised be to God,” said the lady,

that he tested me with words and you

with acts. I think he will be не 10
say that 1 took his words more pa-
tiently than you his deeds. But since
he has proven himself so faithful, you
should value him even more.”

“Indeed, 1 do," Egano replied

Thus convinced by Ше evening’
happenings, Egano was certain һе had
the trucst w
ant in all the world. And so, Anichino
and the lady laughed often over the
merry incident, and henceforth were

решт liberty to take their delight
а sure together, for as long as
Anichino chose to remain in Bologna.

Liquor Lady No. 1

ANGEL'S ТП

One of the most popular
preprohibition after-dinner drinks.

2/3 maraschino liqueur
1/5 heavy cream

Pour liqueur into a pony glass.
Then pour cream in carefully,
on edge of glass, so that it floats
and does not mix with the
liqueur. Top the cream with a
maraschino cherry.

FAHRENHEIT 451 «i

holding it in the sky.
"Here we are!"

mmed to a stop.
Beatty, Stoneman, and Black ran up
thc sidewalk, suddenly odious and fat
in their plump fireproof slickers. Mon-
tag followed.

They crashed the front door and
grabbed at а woman, though she was
not running, she was not trying to
escape. She was only standing, weav-
ing from side to side, her eyes fixed
upon а nothingless in the wall, as if
they had struck her а terrible blow
upon the head. Нег tongue was
moving in her mouth, and her cyes
seemed to
something and then they remembered
and her tongue moved again:

“Play the man, Master Ridley; we
shall this day light such a candle, by
God's grace, in England, as | trust
shall never be put out.

"Enough of that" said
"Where are they?"

He slapped her face with amazing
objectivity and repcared the question.
‘The old woman's eyes came to а focus
upon Beatty, "You know where they
аге or you wouldn't be here.” she
said.

Stoneman held out the telephone
alarm card with the complaint signed
in telephone duplicate on the back

“Have reason to suspect attic; 11
No. Elm, City. E. B.

“That would be Mrs. Blake, my
neighbor," said the woman reading
the initials.

"АШ right, men, let's get "em!"

Next thing they were up in musty
blackness swinging silver hatchets at
doors that were, after all, unlocked,
tumbling through like boys all rollick
and shout, "Hey!" A fountain of books
sprang down upon Montag as he
climbed shuddering up the sheer stair
well. How inconvenient! Always be
fore it had been like snuffing а can-
die. The police went first and ad-
hesive-taped the victim's mouth and
bandaged | him off into their glittering
beetle cars, so when you arrived you
found an empty house. You weren't
hurting anyone, you were hurting
only things! And since things really
couldn't hurt, since things felt
nothing, and things don't scream ог
whimper, as this woman might begin
to scream and cry out, there was noth-
ing to tease your conscience later. You
were simply cleaning up. Janitorial
work, essentially. Everything to its
proper place. Quick with the kero-
senel Who's got a match!

But now, tonight, someone had
slipped. This woman was spoiling
the ritual. The men were making
too much noise, laughing, joking, to
cover her terrible accusing silence be-
low. She made the empty rooms roar
with accusation and shake down a
fine dust of guilt that was sucked in
their nostrils as they plunged about.

Beatty.

It was neither cricket nor correct.
Montag felt an immense irritation.
She shouldn't be here on top of every-
thing!

Books bombarded his shoulders, his
arms, his upturned face. A book lit,
almost obediently, like a white pigeon,
in his hands, wings fluttering. In the
dim, wavering light, a page hung open
and it was like a snowy feather, the
words delicately painted thereon. In
all the rush and fervor, Montag had
only ап instant to read a line, but it
blazed in his mind for the next min-
ше as И stamped there with fiery
stecl. “Time has fallen asleep in the
afternoon sunshine.” He dropped the
book. Immediately, another fell into
his arms.

"Montag, up here!”

Montag's hand closed like а mouth,
crushed the book with wild devotion,
with an insanity of mindlessness to his
chest. ‘Ihe men above were hurling
shovelfuls of magazines into the dusty
air. They fell like slaughtered birds
and the woman stood below, like a
small girl, among the bodies.

Montag had donc nothing. His hand
had done it all, his hand, with а
brain of its own, with a conscience
and a curiosity in cach trembling fing-
er, had turned thicf. Now, it plunged
the book back under his arm, pressed
it tight to sweating armpit, rushed out
empty, with а magician's flourish!
Look here! Innocent! Look!

He gazed, shaken, at that white
hand. He held it way out, as if he were
farsighted. He held it close, as if he
were blind.

“Montag!”

He jerked about.

"Don't stand there, idiot!"

The books lay like great mounds of
fishes left to dry. Тһе men danced
and slipped and fell over them. Titles
glitered their golden eyes, falling.

onc.

“Ксгозепе!"

They pumped the cold fluid from
the numeraled 451 tanks strapped to
their shoulders. They coa each
book, they pumped rooms full of it.

They hurried downstairs, Montag
staggering after them in the kerosene
fumes.

“Come on, woman!”

‘The woman knelt among the books,
touching the drenched leather and
cardboard, reading the gilt titles with
her fingers while her eyes accused
Montag.

“You can't ever have my books," she
said.

ou know the law,” said Beatty.
“Where's your common sense? None
of those books agree with each other.
You've been locked up here for years
with а regular damned Tower of
Babel. Snap out of it! The people in
those books never lived. Come on
м!"

She shook her head.

“The whole house is going up."
said Beatty. МЕКЕ

Тіс men walked clumsily to the
door. They glanced back at Montag,
who stood near the woman.

“You're not leaving her here?" he
protested.

“She won't come

“Force her, the:

Beatty raised his hand in which was
concealed the igniter. “We're due back
at the House. Besides, these fanatics
always try suicide; the pattern’s fam-
liar.”

Montag placed his hand on the
woman's elbow, “You can come with
me.”

"No," she said. “Thank you, any-
way."

"Fm counting to ten," said Beatty.
“One, Two."
" said Montag.

" said the woman.

"You can stop counting," she said.
She opened the fingers of one hand
slightly and in the palm of the hand
was a single slender object.

An ordinary kitchen match.

The sight of it rushed the men out
and down away from the house. Cap-

tain Beatty, keeping his dignity,
backed slowly through the front door,
his pink face burnt and shiny from а
thousand fires and night exatements
God, thought Montag, how truc! Al-
ways at night the alarm comes. Never
by day! Is it because fire is prettier by
night? More spectacle, а better show?
The pink face of Beatty now showed
the faintest panic in the door, The
woman's hand twitched on the single
matchstick. The fumes of kerosene
bloomed up about her. Montag felt
the hidden book pound like a heart
his chest.

© on," said the woman, and Mon
tag felt himself back away and азау
out the door, after Beatty, down the
нерн across the lawn, where the path
of kerosene lay like the track of some
evil snail.

On the front porch where she had
come to weigh them quietly with her
eyes, her quietness а condemnation,
the woman stood motionless.

Beatty flicked his fingers to spark
the kerosene.

He was too late. Montag gasped.

The woman on the porch reached
out with contempt to them all, and
struck the kitchen match against the
railing.

People ran out of houses all down
the street.

"They said nothing on their way back
to the firehouse. Nobody looked at
anyone ске. Montag sat in the front
seat with Beatty and Black. They did
not even smoke their pipes. They sat
there looking (continued on page 41)

35

Model Joanne Arnold arrives
Adams’ studio to
pose for the first Hortog od.

ot Hol

Joonne steps out of the dressing
room minus her sweoter ond skirt,
ond reody to begin posing. A1 this
point Adams hod only а vague ideo

what finished od would look like.

36

Sex Sells

a dhirt

ADVERTISING men grow grey look-
ing for new ideas, fresh approach
clever gimmicks for selling their clients’
products. The American public is sub-
jected to such an unending barrage of
advertising in every conceivable form,
every waking hour of the day, it takes a
really sensational gimmick to get very
much attention, That was the problem
that faced the Carson-Roberts Agency
a year ago as they scarched for a way to
publicize a shirt manufacturer named
Hartog. The gimmick they came up
with was sensational to say the lea:
Hartog is just one of hundreds of
west coast shirt makers. They had never
done any advertising before and didn't
have a lot to spend. "They wanted trade
recognition and acceptance for their
brand name so that their salesmen
would have an easier time interesting
retailers in their line. Through their
agency, Carson-Roberts, Hartog sched.
uled a series of full page ads in the
trade publication Men's Wear. The big
problem was what sort of ads could
Hartog run that would gain immediate
attention in such a competitive field.
(continued overleaf)

Above, left to right, Hartog’s Hank Daniels,
photographer Hal Adams, and Cors
Roberts’ Jack Roberts discussing a prelit

ht, photographer Adams finds

ives model a casual charm.

Joanne Arnold smokes
а cigarette as photag-
ropher Hal Adams
contemplotes suitable
poses. In on earlier dis-
cussion with Carson-
Roberts’ Art Director,
Jack Roberts and Har-
tog President, Hank
Daniels, it had been
agreed the photos
should be given a
very high fashion
treatment with plen-
ty of sex appeal.

38

Joanne peels off brassiere, slip, and stockings and Adams
tries several shots of her entirely nude except for trons-
parent panties. All agree that these will make very nice
poses for somebody's collection, but they aren't different
enough for the od. Jack Roberts suggests the shirt gim-
mick that becomes the basis for the first of the series.
Broad pulls broadcloth over her heod and advertisement
carries the line “Keep Your Shirt On Till You See Hartog.”

MODEL Joanne Arnold was selected
as the first Hartog Girl. She stripped
for action and photographer

ous
pictures should be shot in a high key
to give them a high fashion look.
After Joanne had peeled aud Adams
2. n a few shots of her in nothing

e Най her шу some poses wearing
toreador trousers; Jack Roberts added
Ма звено the picture ав а masculine
lor trousers appeared

all of them. (continued. on next. page)

Roberts and Adams can't be as bored
аз they look. They agree that the
shirt and panties have plenty of sex
appeal but not enaugh sophistication.

HARTOG president “Hank Danicls
gave the agency а few general ideas
bout what he had in mind. He didwt
want to show his shirts or his prices. Не
did want "Class" ads that would appeal
to men, with major emphasis on. the
Hartog name. Mr. Daniels wanted
greater trade acceptance that would
help the company expand its distribu-
tion. What he got was the hottest ad
» of the year and the
biggest sales in Hartog history.

Most west coast shirt manufacturers
plug the "made in California
Carson-Roberts searched for soi

The toreador trousers ore introduced to give the picture
the needed high fashion tone. Jack Roberts also adds his
pipe to the setting far a masculine touch. Toreador trou-
sers ore used/in several later ads; pipe in all of them. :

ting as Hath
the year befor

L sex given а
ion treatment would be the
real stopper in а masculine magazine.
The first photo for the series had to
be right—it would set the precedent for
the ads to follow. Carson-Roberts’ a
director Jack Roberts huddled with
Hartog’s Hank Daniels and fashion
photographer Hat Adams, then they
саПей іш Ше model and got down to
business. ( ж

33

2

A different bosom is bared each

month, but the

advertisements remains the same.

40

THE first Hartog ad showed model
Joanne Arnold pulling off her shirt and
carried the single line, “Keep Your
Shirt On Till You Sce Hartog” It
appeared in the February issue of
Men's Wear magazine. Fach of the ads
ас followed

included a different.

with а U. S. tax form.
Withholding From Hartog
"You Can't Lose With Hartog”:
rabbit, “Multiply Your Profits W
to!
The response w
issue after the series began
of Men's Wear ran a picture of himself
pulling off his shirt in a burlesque of
the Hartog Girl and national maga
zines like Pageant and People Today
published stories on the ads. When
Hank Daniels went to New York. a
trade paper announced simply. "The
man with the ad is in town

The toreodor pants give the picture
the sophisticated flavor Hartog is
looking for. Hal Adams shoots а
number of poses and the best is
used аз the first Напод od (right).

theme of the

жске көме

нет он

тие You see

No name. company, ог ad was identi-
fied, but Danicls’ New York phone rang
for two days with calls from buyers and
retailers.

At times the mail resulting from the
ads has required a fulltime girl, and
the requests for extra copies has been
so large that next year Hartog plans to
reproduce them as a calendar.

From shirts to soap and Simoniz,
there's no salesman like sex.

FAHRENHEIT 451 ict ren ны

out of the front of the great Sala-
mander as they turned a corner and
went silently on.

"Master Ridley," said Montag at
last.

"What?" said Beatty.

"She said, ‘Master Ridley.’ She said
some crazy thing when we came in the
door. "Play the man,’ she said, "Маз
ter Ridley.’ Something, something,
something."

“ ‘We shall this day light such а
candle, by God's grace, in England, as
1 trust shall never be put out, " said
Beatty. Stoneman glanced over at the
Captain, as did Montag, startled.

Beatty rubbed his chin. "A man
named Latimer said that to а man
named Nicholas Ridley, as they were
being burnt alive at Oxford, for here-
зу, оп October 16, 1555."

Montag and Stoneman went back
to looking at the street as it moved
under the engine wheels.

“I'm full of bits and pieces,” said
Beatty. "Most fire captains have to be.
Sometimes I surprise myself. Watch it,
Stoneman!"

Stoneman braked the truck.

"Damn!" said Beatty. "You've gone
right by the corner where we turn for
the firehouse.”

"Who is it?"

"Who would it be?" said Montag,
leaning back against the closed door in
the dark.

His wife said, at last, "Well, put on
the light."

"1 don't want the light.”

“Come to bed."

He heard her roll impatiently; the
bedsprings squealed.

"Are you drunk?" she said.

So и was the hand that started it
all. He felt one hand and then the
other work his coat free and let it
slump to the floor, Не held his pants
out into an abyss and let them fall
into darkness. His hands had been in-
fected and soon it would be his arms.
He could feel the poison working uj
his wrists and into his elbows and his
shoulders, and then the jump-over
from shoulder blade to shoulder blade
like a spark leaping a gap. His hands
were ravenous. And his суев were be-
ginning to feel hunger, as И they
must look at something, anything,
everything.

His wife said

He balanced in space with
in his sweating cold fingers.

A minutc later she said, "Well, just
don't stand there in the middle of the
floor."

He made a small sound.

"What?" she asked.

He made more soft sounds. He
stumbled toward the bed and shoved
the book clumsily under the cold pil-
low. He fell into bed and his wife
cried out, startled. Не lay far across
the room from her, on a winter island

"What ате you doing."
the book

separated Бу an empty sea. She talked
to him for what seemed a long while
and she talked about this and she
talked about that and it was only
words, like the words he had heard
once in a nursery at a friend's house,
a twoyearold child building word pat-
terns, talking jargon, making pretty
sounds in the air. But Montag said
nothing and after a long while when
he only made the small sounds, he felt
her move in the room and come to his
bed and stand over him and put her
hand down to feel his cheek. He knew
that when she pulled her hand away
from his face it was wet.

Late in the night he looked over at
Mildred. She was awake. There was
a tiny dance of melody in the air, her
Seashell was tamped in her ear agai
and she was listening to far people in
far places, her eyes wide and staring
at the fathoms of blackness above
her in the ceiling.

Wasn't there an old joke about the

wife who talked so much on the tele-
phone that her desperate husband
ran out to the nearest store and tele-
phoned her to ask what was for din-
ner? Well, then, why didn't he buy
himself an audio-Seashell broadcasting
station and talk to his wife late at
night, murmur, whisper, shout,
scream, yell, But what would he whisp-
er, what would he yell? What could he
say?
And suddenly she was so strange he
couldn't believe he knew her at all. Не
was in someone else's house, like those
other jokes people told of the gentle-
man, drunk, coming home late
at night, unlocking the wrong door,
entering à wrong room, and bedding
with a stranger and getting up early
and going to work and neither of them
the wiser.

“Millie. .

"What?"

“I didn't mean to startle you. What
I want to know is..."

“Well?”

“When did we meet? And where?”

"When did we meet for what?" she
asked.

“I mean—originally."

He knew she must be frowning in
the dark.

He clarified it. “The first time we
ever met, where was it, and when?"

"Why, it was at=”

She stopped.

^] don't know," she said.

Не was cold. "Can't you remem
ber?"

"Its been so long."

"Only ten years, that's all, only ten!"

“Don't get excited, I'm trying to
think." She laughed an odd Іше
laugh that went up and up. "Funny,
how funny, not to remember where
or when you met your husband."

He lay massaging his eyes, his brow,
and the back of his neck, slowly. He

3 he whispered.

held both hands over his eyes and ap-
plied a steady pressure there as if to
crush memory into place. It was sud-
denly more important than any other
thing in a lifetime that he know where
he had met Mildred.

“It doesn't matter.” She was up, in
the bathroom now, and he heard the
water running, and the swallowing
sound she made.

“No, I guess not,” he said.

He tried to count how many times
she swallowed and he thought of the
visit from the two zincoxide-faced men
with the cigarettes in their straight:
lined mouths and the Electronic Eyed
Snake winding down into the layer
upon layer of night and stone and
stagnant spring water, and he wanted
to call out to her, how many have
you taken fonight! the capsules! how
many wil you take later and not
know? and so on, every hour! or may-
be not tonight, tomorrow night! And
ше not sleeping tonight or tomorrow
night or any might for a long while,
now that this has started. And he
thought of her lying on the bed with
the two technicans standing straight
over her, not bent with concern, but
only standing straight, arms folded.
And he remembered thinking then that
И she died, һе was certain һе wouldn't
cry. For it would be the dying of an un-
known, a street face, а newspaper im-
age, and it was suddenly so very wron|
that he had begun to cry, not at death
but at the thought of not crying at
death, a silly empty man near а silly
empty woman, while the hungry snake
made her still more empty.

How do you get so empty? he won-
dered. Who takes it out of you? And
that awful flower the other day, the
dandelion! It had summed up every-
thing, hadn't it? "What a shame!
You're not in love with anyone!" And
why not?

Well, wasn't there а wall between
him and Mildred, when you came
down to it? Literally not just one wall
but, so far, three! And expensive, too!
And the uncles, the aunts, the cou-
sins, the nieces, the nephews, th: ed
in those walls, the gibbering pack of
treeapes that said nothing, nothing,
nothing and sid it loud, loud, loud.
Не had taken to calling them rela-
tives from the very first. “How's Unde
Louis today?" "Who?" "And Aunt
Maude?" The most significant memory
he had of Mildred, really, was of a
little girl in a forest without trees (how
odd!) or rather a little girl lost on a

lateau where there used to be trees
you could feel the memory of their
shapes all about) sitting in the center
of the “living room.” The living room;
what a good job of labeling that was
now. No matter when he came in, the
walls were always talking to Mildred.

“Something must be done!"
ез, something must be done!”
‘Well, let's not stand and сай!”
Let's do it!”

m so mad I could spit!"
What was (continued on next page)

41

FAHRENHEIT 451 с ron tose 4»

it all about? Mildred couldn't say.
Who was mad at whom? Mildred
didn't quite know. What were they
going to do? Well, said Mildred,
wait around and sec.

He had waited around to see.

А great thunderstorm of sound
gushed from the walls, Music bomb
arded him at such an immense volume
that his bones were almost shaken from
their tendons; he felt his jaw vibrate,
his eyes wobble in his head. He was
victim of concussion. When it was all
over he felt like a man who had been
thrown from a diff, whirled in а cen
trifuge and spat out over а waterfall
that fell and fell into emptiness and
emptiness and never—quite—touched
—bottom—never—never—quite—no not
quite—touched—bottom . . . and you
fell so fast you didn't touch the sides
either . . . never . . . quite . .
touched . . . anything.

Тһе thunder faded. The music died.
said Mildred.
was indeed remarkable.
happened. Even
though the people the walls of the
room had barely moved, and nothing
had really been settled, you had the
impression that someone had turned

Something

on a washing machine or sucked you
up in a gigantic vau You
drowned in music and pure cico

phony. Не came of the roc
sweating and on the point of collapse.
Behind him, Mildred sat in her chair
and the voices went on again:

“Well, everything will be all right
now," said ©

‘Oh, don't
“cousin.”
Now, don't

too sure

t's all very well,” cried Montag,
"but what are they mad about? Who
are these people? Who's that man and
who's that woman? Are they husband
and wife, are they divorced, engaged,
Good God, nothing's connected

1 Mildred. “Well, they
they had this fight, you see. They cer
tainly fight а lot. You should listen.
I think they're married. Yes, they're
married, Wh

And if И was not the three walls
soon to be four walls and the dream
complete, then it was the open car
and Mildred driving a hundred miles
ar across town, he shouting
d she shouting back and both
ng to hear what was said, but hear-
ing only the scream of the car. "At
least keep it down to the minimum!"
he yelled. she cried. “Keep
it down to fifty-five, the minimum!
he shouted. “The what?" she shrieked.
“Speed!” he shouted. And she pushed

А2

it up to one hundred and five miles
and hour and tore the breath from his
mouth.

When they stepped out of the car,
she had the Seashells stuffed in her
ears.

lence. Only the wind blowing
softly
"Mildred." He stirred in bed.

He reached over and pulled the tiny
musical insect out of her c; Mild.
red. Mildred?

"Yes" Her voice was Си

1
He felt he was one о the creatures

electronically inserted between the
slots of the phono-color walls, speak-
ing, but the speech пог piercing the
crystal barrier. He could only рап
tomine, hoping she would turn his
d see him. They could not

touch through the glass
“Mildred, do you k
1 was telling you abou
What girl?” She was
The girl next door
“What girl next doo
“You know, the highschool girl.

her na

w that girl

ost asleep.

his wile.
haven't seen her for a few days—
four days to be exact. Have you seen
her?”

“No
I've meant to

k to you about

Jh, I know the one you
thought you would.

“Her,” said Mildred іп
room.

the d

“What about h кей Montag

“L meant to tell you, Forgot. For
is

Whole family moved out some-

where, But sh
she's dead."

"We o
girl
o. The same girl. McClellan. Mc-
Clellan. Run over by a car. Four days
not sure. But 1 think she's
The family moved out any

's gone for good. 1 think

n't be talking about the

jot sure of it
t sure. Pretty sure;
Vhy didn't you tell me sooner?”
Forgot."

"Four days a

“1 forgot all about it.”

"Four days ago," he said, quictly,
lying there

They lay there in the dark room not
moving, either of them. "Good night,"
she said.

He heard a faint rustle. Her hand
moved, The electric thimble moved
like a praying mantis on the pillow,
touched by her hand. Now it was in
her car again, humming.

He listened and his wife was sing-
ing under her breath

Outside the house, a shadow moved,

an autumn wind rose up and faded
away. But there was something else
in the silence that he heard. It was like
a breath exhaled upon the window.
It was like a faint drift of greenish
luminescent smoke, the motion of a
gle huge October leaf blowing
across the lawn and away.

The Hound, he thought. Из out
there tonight. It’s out there now. If
I opened the window , . .

He did not open the window.

He had chills and fever in the morn
ing.

"You can't be sick,” said Mildred.

He closed his eyes over the hotnes
"Yes.

“But you were all т

“No, 1 wasn't all r
the “relatives” shou
lor.

Mildred stood over his bed, curious

ist night"
He heard
the par

ly. He felt her there, he saw her with
out opening his eyes, her hair burnt
by chemicals to а brittle straw, her

act unscen but
pupils, the red

eyes with a kind of са
suspect far behind th
dened pouting lips, the body as thin
as a prayi is from dieting, and
her flesh He could
remember Ве

"Will you bring me

aspirin and

u've got to get up," she said. “It's
oon. You've slept five hours

m
you turn the parlor off?" he

asked.
"Thats my family.
“Will you tum it off for a sick
man
"РИ turn it down."
She went out of the room
nothing to the parlor and came ba
15 that better?

nd did
k.

favorite. program," she

said.
"What about the а
"You've newer be sick before."

She went away
“Well, I'm sick now. ГІ

to work tonight.
"You acted funny last

returned, humm

"Where's the aspirin?" Не glanced
at the water glass she handed him

“Oh.” She walked to the bath again.
"Did something happen?

“А fire, is all.

“1 had a nice evening,
the bathroom.

“What doi

“The parlor.

“What was oni

“Programs.

"What programs?”
me of the best ever.”
Whe

Oh, you know, the bunch.”

“Yes, the bunch, the bunch, the
bunch." He pressed at the pain in his
cyes and suddenly the odor of Кегозепе
made him vomit.

Mildred came
surprised.

а not goin

she said, in

, humming. She was
(continued overleaf)

TOBACCOLAND ...........

tistics — in fact, everything about the
rescarch except the cigarettes them-
selves. After explaining away the find-
ings, however, they pledged the for-

оп of a joint industry research
group of their own to look into the
matter more thoroughly.

The scientists, themselves, are con-
vinced that further tests will uncover
the trouble-making mystery ingredient
and that it can be removed. In the
meantime, it’s doubtful that very many
women will switch to pipes or cigars,
and habit will probably keep most
male smokers using about the same
amount of tobacco in the same form

and brand as before. The fact that
cigarettes сап Бе harmful isn't exactly
news — “coffin nails" have rated at-
tention in life insurance statistics Гог
а good many years. But let's face it,
most of us do dozens of things every
day that, in the strictest sense, might
be considered "harmful" The guy
who lives just for the moment is a
fool — but only an old fuddy duddy
gives up all the pleasures of today for
the uncertain rewards of the future.
А man interested in “the good life”
settles on a pleasant compromise be-
tween these two extremes (excuse me
while I flick the ash off my cigarette).

The aspect of this whole situation
that is really humorous and probably

comments on the T-Zone, and ап-
swers to questions like “What cigarette
Чо you smoke, doctor?”

After pouring all that loot into
М. D. pockets, it could make a gentle
old tobacco tycoon bitter to wake up
one fine morning and discover the doc-
tors of the nation calling his product
poisonous. Et tu Dr. Brute!

"Get out of bed and get back in again, Miss Devere—

and this time get in as though you meant business!"

PLAYBOY

FAHRENHEIT 451 (et ror asc 4»

“Why'd you do that?"

He looked with dismay at the floor,
“We burned an old woman with her
books.”

"It's a good thing the rug's washa-
ble." She fetched а mop and work
on it. "I went to Helen's last night."

"Couldn't you get the shows in your
own parlor?

"Sure, but it's nice visiting."

She went out into the parlor. He
heard her singing.

"Mildred?" he called.

She returned, singing, snapping her
fingers softly.
ren't you going to ask me about
last night?" he said.

"What about it?
"We burned a thousand books. We
burned a woman."

“Well?”

The parlor was exploding with
sound,

“We burned copies of Dante and
Swift and Marcus Aurelii

with the telephone.
me to call Captain Beatty, do you?”
You must!”

“Don't shout!’

“L wasn't shouting.” He was up in
bed, suddenly, enraged and flushed,
shaking. The parlor roared in the hot
air, “I can't call him. I can't tell him
I'm sick.

"Why?

Because you're afraid, he thought.
А child feigning illness, afraid to call
because after а moment's discussion,
the conversation would run so: "Yes,
Captain, I feel better already. I'll be
in at ten o'clock tonight

"You're not sick," said Mildred.

Montag fell back in bed. He reached
under his pillow. The hidden book
wi ill there.
ldred, how would it be И, well,
maybe I quit my job awhile?”

"You want to give up everything?
After all these years of working, be-
cause, one night, some woman and
her books—"

“You should have seen her, Millie!”

"She's nothing to me; she should
have had books. It was her responsi
ity, she should've thought of that.
hate her. She's got vou going and next
thing you know we'll be out, no house,
no job, nothing.

“You weren't there. vou didn't see,”
he said. “There must be something
in books, things we can't imagine, to
make a woman stav in a burning
house; there must be something there.
You don't мау Гог nothing

She was simple-minded:
She was as rational as vou and 1,
more so perhaps, and we burned her."
hat's ег under the bridge."
D, not water; fire. You never seen

44

а burned house? It smolders for days.
Well, this fire'll last me the rest of my
life. God! I've been trying to put it
out, in my mind, all night. I'm crazy
with trying.

“You should've thought of that be-
fore becoming a fireman.”

“Thought!” he said. “Was I given
a choice? My grandfather and father
were firemen. In my sleep, 1 ran after
them.”

The parlor was playing a dance
tune.

“This is the day you go on the early
shift" said Mildred. "You should've
gone two hours ago. I just noticed.

“Its not just the woman that died,
said Montag. "Last night I thought
about all the kerosene I've used in the

ast ten years. And I thought about
books. And for the first time I real-
ized that a man was behind each one
of the books. A man had to think them
ир. A man had to take a long time to
put them down on paper. And I'd
never even thought that thought be-
fore.” He got out of bed.

“It took some man a lifetime maybe
to put some of his thought down, look-
ing around at the world and life
and then 1 come along in two min-
шеу and boom!

“Let you alone! That's all very well,
but how can I leave myself alone? We
need not be let alone. We need to
be really bothered once in a while.
How long is it since you were really
bothered? About someting important,
about something real?
And then he shut up, for he remem-
Бегей last week and the two white
stones staring up at the ceiling and
the pumpsnake with the probing eye
and the two soap-faced men with the
cigarettes. moving in their mouths
when they talked. But that was an-
other Mildred, that was a Mildred so
deep inside this one, and so bothered,
really bothered, that the two women
had never met. He turned away.
Mildred said, "Well, now you've
done it. Out front of the house. Look
who's here."
1 don't care.
"There's a Phoenix car just drove up
and a man in a black shirt with an
orange snake stitched өп his arm
ht walk."
he said.

Montag did not move, but stood
looking into the cold whiteness of the
wall immediately before him.

“Go let him in, will you? Tell him

cll him yourself!” She ran a few
steps this way, a few steps that, and
stopped, еуез wide, when the front
door speaker called her name, softly,
softly, Mrs. Montag. Mrs. Montag,
someone here, someone here, Mrs.

Montag, Mrs. Montag, someone's here,
Fading.

Montag made sure the book was
well hidden behind the pillow,
climbed slowly back into bed, arranged
ihe covers over his knees and across
his chest, halfsiting, and after а
while Mildred moved and went out of
the room and Captain Beatty strolled
in, his hands in his pockets,
hut the ‘relatives’ up," said Beatty,
looking around at everything except
Montag and his wife.

This time, Mildred ran. The yam-
mering voices stopped yelling in the
parlor.

Captain Beatty sat down in the most
comfortable chair with a peaceful look
on his ruddy face. He took time to
prepare and light his brass pipe and
puff ош a great smoke cloud. "Just
thought I'd come by and see how the
sick man is.”

“How'd you gu

Beatty smiled his smile which
showed the candy pinkness of his gums
and the tiny candy whiteness of his
teeth. "I've seen it all. You were going
to call for a night off."

Montag sat in bed.

“Well,” said Beatt
off!” He examined his eternal match-
box, the lid of which said GUAR
ANTEED: ONE MILLION LIGHTS
IN THIS IGNITER, and began to
strike the chemical match abstractedly,
blow out, strike, blow out, strike, speak
a few words, blow out. He looked at
the flame, He blew, he looked at the
smoke. “When will you be well?”

“Tomorrow. The next day maybe.
First of the week.”

Beatty pulfed his pipe. “Every lire-
man, sooner or later, hits this. They
only need understanding, to know
how the wheels run. Need to know the
history of our professi
feed it to rookies lik
Damn shame." Puff, "Only fire chiefs
remember it now." Puff. “ГИ let you
in on it’ "

Mildred fidgeted.

Beatty took a full minute to settle
himself in and think back for what he
wanted to sa

“When did
job of ours,
where, when? Well, I'd say
got started around about a thing called
the Civil War. Even though our rule
book claims it was founded earlier.
The fact is we didn't get along well
until photography came into its own,
Then—motion pictures in the early
"Twentieth Century. Radio. Television.
Things began to have mass.”

Montag sat in bed, not moving.

“And because they had mass, they
became simpler,” said Beatty. “Once,
books appealed to a few people, here,
there, everywhere. They could afford
to be different. The world was roomy.
But then the world got full of eyes
and elbows and mouths. Double, trip-
le, quadruple population. Films and
radios, maga- (continued overleaf)

all start, you ask, this
about.

Your Mind s pose 21

1 quickly diagnosed his symptoms
(sloshing, gurgling) as indicating
Water on The Brain. 1 was correct
Below is a reproduction of an X-ray
picture of Thomas’ head (Figure V1.)

FIGURE VI
Patient Before Surgery

1 tried everything to help Thomas.
1 had him wear а hat made of blotting
nd 1 tried heatlamp treat-
an effort to bring him to a
boil Nothing helped. His condi
tion was so far advanced there was
only one remedy — surgery.

Г decided to attempt. the. Schwinc-
Kiuenger Operation and install an
overflow pipe in Thomas’ head. This

as а very expensive operation—it cost
me over two hundred dollars just to
join the Plumber's Union—but it was
successful. | installed the overflow
pipe along with an automatic control
mechanism. (Figure VII).

FIGURE VII
и Aher Schwine-
Kitzenger Operation

‘The pipe and control mechanism
worked fin a monograph t
1 wrote describing the оре
published by the Californi
Association and later made

&

into a
motion picture entitled, Love Under
Пеер Anesthesia.

My patient, Thomas, however, суеп

tually came to а bad end. One day
when he was walking home from
school, he got his shoelace caught in
the chain and flushed himself to
death.
ANXIETY-CAUSED-BY-FEELING-
OF-REJECTION COMPLEX.
CASE OF LUCY MILDRED S.
I first met. Lucy Mildred S. socially.
1 had been out of town for eight
months, and when I got back a friend

ol mine telephoned and wanted to get
me a blind date with a friend of his
fiance. 1 agreed and, excited by the
adventurous possiblities of such an
arrangement, I changed my shirt and
gave myself a morc liberal appli-
cation of a new masculine after-shave
lotion, a scent that was so virile and
masculine it came im a hairy bottle.

At eight o'clock 1 met Lucy Mildred.
She was only five feet and one inch
tall. But she weighed two hundred
and ninety-seven pounds. She had three
teeth missing in the front, and a wart
on the end of her nose, and she was
almost baldheaded in the back. Yet,
in spite of all this, the noise her
army shoes made when she walked
терейей те.

1 discovered that Lucy Mildred had
been rejected. by four other men pre-
viously (1 also discovered that she
had only met four other men pre-
viously), and had definite anxiety
feelings about her ability to get a
husband.

1 had а long talk with Lucy
Mildred, and 1 found that her prob-
lem had its roots in her childhood.
As а child, she had suffered from a

feeling of Inadequacy in Social Games,
such as leapfrog.
Her playmates had always refused to

let Lucy Mildred play leapfrog with
them, and she wrongly believed it
was because they didn’t like her. This
was not so. You see, at the age of
ten, Lucy Mildred already weighed
two hundred pounds and was con-
sidered large for her age. And the
one time her friends had invited her
to play leapfrog, she squashed three
little girls and drove one stifflegged
nine-year-old four feet into the con-
crete sidewalk.

Also, Lucy Mildred's family had
been unusually strict with her, not
allowing her to go upstairs in their
home, because of their firm convic
tion that she would fall through the
ceiling. Since the only bathroom in
the house was upstairs, this caused

complications.
Unfortunately, Lucy Mildred took
these prohibitions personally, and de-

cided to run away from home, and
so she came to New York, where she
quickly got a job as a chorus girl
in a Broadway musical comedy. The
producer wanted only tall slender
girls in the chorus, but Lucy Mildred
lied.

Lucy Mildred soon learned that onc
annot run away from one's troubles.
Her personality kept deteriorating,
until it finally collapsed. The last
1 heard of her she had decided to
dangerously and had taken a
high-salaried position as Westbrook
Pegler's food taster.

SOMATIC CONDITIONS AND

RELATED PROBLEMS
We must always remember the in-

terrelation Бес the mind and the
body. The activities of the mind and
the body cannot be divorced (Body
vs. Mind, 384 Nevada Supreme Court,
558, 1924), and many physical condi-
tions are caused by a mental shock or
impediment.

For instance, | remember when 1
was about ten years old, my father
went through a brief period during
which he worried constantly about his
business, which had something to do
with a popular soft drink that he
manufactured in the wagon shed from
sugar and fermented corncobs.

Some men from the Federal govern-
ment came around several es, and
Father worried so much about business
and the men from the government
that he grew a full beard, dyed his
hair black, and began speaking with
an exaggerated Italian accent. All of
these things, purely physical symptoms,
were caused by Father's worn
other words, by his mental state.

An even more concrete example
was the case of my cousin Stanley,
whose condition was caused originally

by something that happened before 2

he was bo
"arrived,
state high

The night before Stanley
his mother was out on thc
hitchhiking back home
from work. As she was walking along
а particularly dark stretch of road,
she was badly frightened by an oi
coming motorcycle. This had an un-
fortunate effect on Stanley.

FIGURE ҮШ
Cousin Stanley At Birth

ng only one eye the center
head let Stanley for a few
bad moments as a baby. His mother,
who was confused by the whole thing,
kept shoving dirty laundry into his
mouth, under the impression that he
was a Bendix washer.

However, it turned out all right,
because when Stanley was just two
ycars old, his normal eyes developed
(Figure IX).

FIGURE IX
Stanley At The Ape Of 25 Months

This made the family pretty happy,
because up (continued on page 47)

45

won

вора sebo 44 1661 "ubHÁdoo „чецо FL то PUY РОЗН euo up,

FAHRENHEIT 451 «ie

zines, books leveled down to a sort of
раме pudding norm, do you follow
me

1 think so."

Beatty peered at the smoke pattern
he had put out on the air. “Picture it.
Nineteenth-century man with his hors-
єз, dogs, carts, slow motion. Then, іп
the Twenticth Century, speed up your
camera, Books cut shorter. Condensa-
tions. Digests. Tabloids. Everything
boils down to the gag, the snap end-
ing.”

ling." Mildred nodded.
to fit fifteen-minute
ows, then cut again to fill a
ute book column, winding up
ten- ог twelve-line diction
ary resume, | exaggerate, of course.
The dictionaries were for reference
But many were those whose sole know:
ledge of Hamlet (you know the ti
it is probably

can vend all of the classics; keep ир
with your neighbors. Do you sec? Out

of the nursery into the college and
back to the nursery; there's your intel
lectual pattern. for the past five cen
turies or more.”

Mildred arose and began 10 move
ound the room, picking things up
d putting them down. Beatty ig:
nored her and continued:

“Speed up the film, Montag, quick.
Click, Pic, Look, Eye, Now, Flick,
Here, There, Swift, Pace, Up, Down,

Out, Why, How, Who, What,
Where, Eh? Uh! Bang! Smack! Wallop,
Bing, Bong, Boom! Digestdigests,

digestdigest-digests. Politics? Опе col-

sentences, a headline! ‘Then,
r, all vanishes! Whirl man's
round about so fast under the

mind
pumping hands of publishers, exploit-
crs, broadcasters that the centrifuge

flings off
ing thought!”

Mildred smoothed the bedclothes.
Montag felt his hcart jump again as
she patted his pillow. Right now she
was pulling at his shoulder to try to
get him to move so she could take the
pillow out and fix it nicely and put
it back. And perhaps cry out and stare
or simply reach down her hand and
say, "What's this?” and hold up the
hidden book with touching innocence.
‘School is shortened, discipline re-
xed, philosophies, histories, lang-
uages dropped, English and spelling
gradually gradually neglected, finally
almost completely ignored. Life is im-
mediate, the job counts, pleasure lies
all about after work, Why learn any-
thing save pressing buttons, pulling
switches, fitting nuts and bolts?”

“Let me fix your pillow,” said Mild-

unnecessary, time-wast-

red.

46

“Get away, g-
“Life becomes one big ргаЧай, Mon.
tag; everything bang, Бой, and wow!”

said Moni

Wow,” said Mildred, yanking at
the pillow.
ог God's sake, let me be!” cried
Montag passionately.

Beatty opened his eyes wide.

Mildred's hand had frozen behind
the pillow. Her fingers were tracing
the book's outline and as the shape
became familiar her face looked sur-
prised and then stunned. Her mouth
opened to ask a question . . .

"Empty the theaters save for clowns
and furnish the rooms with glass walls
and pretty colors running up and
down the walls like confetti or blood
or sherry or sauterne. You like base-
ball, don’t you, Montag?"

Now Beatty was almost invisible, a
voice somewhere behind a screen of
smoke.
>” asked Mildred, almost
with Montag heaved back
against her arms. "What's this here?”

"Sit down!” Montag shouted. She
jumped away, her hands empty.
“We're talking!”

Beatty went on as И nothing had
happened. "You like bowling, don't
you, Montag;

Bowlin,

А fine с.”
Billiards, pool? Football?”
“Fine games, all of then

"More sports for everyone, group
spirit, fun, and you don't have to
think, eh? Organize and organize and
supcr organize supersuper sports.
Моге cartoons in books. More pictures.
The nd drinks less and less. Im
patience. Highways full of crowds go-
ing somewhere, somewhere, зоте-
where, nowhere. The gasoline refugee.
Towns turn into motels, people in по
madic surges from place to place, fol
lowing the moon tides, living tonight
in the room where you slept this noon
and I the night before.”

Mildred went out of the room and
slammed the door. The parlor “aunts”
began to laugh at the parlor “uncles.

i с up the minorities in
n, shall we? Bigger thc
population, the more minorities. Don't
мер on the tocs of the dog-lovers, the
catlovers, doctors, lawyers, merchants,
chiefs, Mormans, Baptists, Unitarians,
second-generation Chinese, Swedes,
Italians, Germans, Texans, Brooklyn-
ites, Irishmen, people from Oregon
ог Mexico. The people in this book,

this play, this TV serial are not meant
to represent any actual painters, carto-
graphers, mechanics anywhere. The
bigger your market, Montag, the less
you handle controversy, remember
that! All the minor minor minorities
with their navels to be kept clean. Au-
thors, full of evil thoughts, lock up
your typewriters. They did. Magazines
became a nice blend of vanilla tapiot
Books, so the damned snobbish critics
said, were dishwater. No wonder
books stopped selling, the critics said.
But the public, knowing what it want
ed, spinning happily, let the comic
books survive, And the three-dimen.
sional sex. magazines, of course. There
you have it, Montag. It didn't come
from the Government down. There
was no dictum, no declaration, no
censorship, to start with, no! Techno
logy, mass exploitation, and minority
pressure carried the trick, thank God.
‘Today, thanks to them, you can мау
happy all the time, you are allowed to
read comics, the good old confessions,
or trade journals.

Yes, but what about the fire
then?" asked Montag.

"Ah." Beatty Icaned forward іп the
faint mist of smoke from his pipc.
What more casily explained and mat
ural? With school turning out more
runners, jumpers, racers, tinkercrs,
grabbers, snatchers, fliers, and. swim.
mers instead of examiners, critics,
knowers, and imaginative creators, the
word "intellectual, of course, became
the swear word it deserved to be, You
always dread the unfamiliar. Surely
you remember the boy in your с
school class

did most of t g
ing while the others sat like
y leaden idols, hating him. And
wasn't it this bright boy you selected
atings and tortures after hours?
Of course it was. We must all be alike.
Not everyone born free and equal, as
the Constitution says, but everyone
made equal. Each man the in
every other; th с happ)
there are no mountains to make them
cower, to judge themselves against.
So! A book is a loaded gun in the
house next door. Burn it. Take the
shot from the weapon. Breach man's
mind. Who knows who mi
target of the well-read m
won't stomach th for a minute. And
so when houses were finally fire
proofed completely, all over the world
(you were correct in your assumption
the other night) there was no longer
nced for firemen for the old purposes.
They were given the new job, as cus-
todians of our peace of mind, the focus
of our understandable and rightful
dread of being inferior; official cen-
sors, judges, and executors. That's
you, Montag, and that's me.”

Тһе door to the parlor opened and
Mildred stood there looking in at
them, looking at Beatty and then at
Montag. Behind her the walls of the
room were flooded with green and

yellew and orange fireworks sizzling
and bursting to some music composed
most compretely of trap drums, tom:
s, and cymbals, Her mouth moved
and she was saying something but the
sound covered it.

Beatty knocked his pipe into the
palm of his pink hand, studied the
ashes as if they were a symbol to be

.
— Your Mind (continued from page 45)

until then they'd been afraid that

ley wasn't going to be normal.
But as Stanley grew up he began
to feel “different,” he expressed
it. He started im; g that people
were looking at him on the streets,
and he began to be moody and sullen,
1 recall one day when we had lunch
together in a restaurant. Stanley just
sat there. silent, staring at the
waitress, his soup, and his hat. It was
unnerving.

MEDICINE MAN crines non pe © +

Why, Professor Eaton and 1 are
to be married, Burke,” she
‘Aren't we, Professor Eaton?"
ad not intended making known
the announcement of our engagement
and forthcoming marriage at this
time," he said, "but since we are to be
married very shortly, Effie's brother
should Бу all means be the first to
now of our intentions.”
“Thanks for telling me, professor,"
Burke said. "It had better by a damn
sight be forthcoming.”

Effie ran to Professor Eaton and
locked her arms around his neck.

"Oh, do you really mean it, Profes-
sor Eaton? I'm so happy 1 don’t know
what to до! But why didn't you tell
me sooner that you really wanted to
marry те? Do you really and truly
mean it, Professor Eaton?"

"Wake up, Miss Marshall

"You must understand that our civ-
ilization is so vast that we can't have
our minorities upset and stirred. Ask
yourself, What do we want in this
country, above all? People want to be
happy, isn't that right? Haven't you
heard it all your life? I want to be
happy, people say. Well, aren't they?

I kept telling Stanley that he
shouldn't let his little uliarity E
set him. In fact, I told him he should
feel that his extra eye was an asset.
And it worked. Today Stanley is well
adjusted and quite proud of the fact
that he is the only man in the country
with 20-20-20 vision.

PHOBIAS

This is the general term used to
designate a number of obsessive “Ac

“Sure,” Burke sai Ве means it.”

“I'm the happiest in the whole
town of Rawley,” Effie cried, pressing
her face against Professor Eaton's cell-
uloid collar. “It was all so unexpected!
Г had never dreamed of it happening
to me so soon!”

Burke backed across the room, one
hand still around the pearl handle
that protruded from the cow-hide hol
ster. He backed across the room and
reached for the telephone receiver on
the wall. He rang the central office
and took the receiver from the hook.

"Hello, Janie,” he said into the
mouthpiece. "Ring up Reverend Е
wards for me, will you, right away.

Burke leaned against the wall,
оне at Effie and Professor Eaton

while Janie at the central office was
ringing the Reverend Edwards’ num-

we

"Thats all we live for, isn't it? For
pleasure, for titillation? And you must
admit our culture provides plenty of
these.

“Yes.”

Montag could lip-read what Mild-
red was saying in the doorway. He
tried not to look at her mouth, because
then Beatty (continued on next page)

tion Patterns” that are set in motion
when the subject comes in contact
with some particularly ипсораЫе
facet of his environment. In this
regard my sister Thelma has always
been interesting 1 psychologists.

As а child, Thelma seemed perfectly
отта! and happy. The only unusual
incident in her youth occurred when
she was sixteen. Father had suffered
a temporary financial reverse, and as
there were (continued on page 49)

ber.

for a month!”

“Absolutely,” Professor Eaton said,
pulling tight the loosened knot in his
tie and adjusting it in the opening of
his celluloid collar. "Absolutely, In
dian Root Tonic has unlimited pow-
ers. It is undoubtedly the medical
and scientific marvel of the age. In-
dian Root Tonic has been known to
produce the most astounding results
i nals of medical history.”

Effie pinned up a strand of hair that
had fallen over her forehead and
looked upon Professor Eaton.

should have been at the office half an
hour ago — want to get that dictation
out of the way, look over that Johnson
correspondence, I'm expecting a call
from L. A. at eleven, J. В. wants those
notes on the meeting with...”

47

FAHRENHEIT 451 али pon pecans peo

might turn and read what was there,
too.

"Colored people don't like Little
Black Sambo, Burn it. White pcople
don't feel good about Uncle Tom's
Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written
4 book on tobacco and cancer of thc
lungs? The cigarette people аге wecp-

? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag.
. Take your fight out
Better yet, into the incinerator.
rals are unhappy and pagan?
iminate them, too. Five minutes
after a person is dead he's on his way
to the Big Flue, the incinerators ser-
viced by helicopters all over the
country. Ten minutes after death a
man's а speck of black dust.
not quibble over individuals
memoriams. Forget them. Burn all,
burn everything. Fire is bright and
fire is clea

The fireworks died in the parlor
behind Mildred. She had stopped talk-
ing at the same time; а miraculous
coincidence. Montag held his breath.

“There was a girl next door," he
said, slowly. "She's gone now, I think,
dead. 1 can't even remember her Гас
But she was different. How—how did
she happen?”

Beatty smiled. “Here or there, that's
bound to occur. Clarisse McClellan?
We've а record on her family. We've
watched. them carefully. Heredity and
environment are funny things. You
can't rid yourself of all the odd ducks
in just а (ew years. The home environ-
ment can undo a lot you try to do at
school, That's why we've lowered the
kindergarten age year after ycar un-
til now we're almost snatching them
from the сга! We had some false
alarms on the McClellans, when they
lived in Chicago. Never found a book.
Uncle had а mixed record; anti: .
The girl? She was а time bomb. The
family had been feeding her subcon-
scious. I'm sure, from what I saw of
her school record. She didn't want to
know how а thing was done, but why.
That can be embarassing. You ask
Why to a lot of things and you wind
up very unhappy indeed, if you keep
at it. The poor girl's better off dead.”
les, dead.”

"Luckily, queer ones like her don't
happen often. We know how to nip
most of them in the bud, early. You
can't build a house without nails and
wood. If you don't want a house built,
hide the nails and wood. If you don't
want a man unhappy politically, don't
give him two sides to a question to
worry him; give him one. Better yet,
give him none. Let him forget there
is such a thing as war. If the govern-
ment is inefficient, top-heavy, and tax-
mad, better it be all those than that
people worry over it. Peace, Montag.

ive the people contests they win by
remembering the words to more popu-
lar songs or the names of state capitals

48

or how much com Пома grew last
year. Cram them full of noncombusti
ble data, chock them so damned full of
‘facts’ they feel stuffed, but absolutely
"brilliant" with information. Then
they'll feel they're. thinking, they'll
get a sense of motion without moving
And they'll be happy, because facts of
that sort don't change. Don't give them
any slippery stuff like philosophy or
sociology to tie things up with. That
way lies melancholy. Any man who
сап take а ТУ wall apart and put it
back together again, and most men
can, nowadays, is happier than any
man who tries to slide-rule, measure,
and equate the universe, which just
von't be measured or equated without
making man feel bestial and |
know, I've tried it; to hell with
So bring on your clubs and parties,
your acrobats and magicians, your
daredevils, jet cars, motorcycle helicop-
ters, your sex and heroin, more of
everything to до with automatic re-
flex. И the drama is bad, if the film
says nothing, if the play is hollow,
sting me with the theremin, loudly. I'll
think I'm responding to the play, when
it's only а tactile reaction to vibration.
But I don’t care. I just like solid enter
tainment.”

Beatty got up. “I must be going.
Lecture’s over. 1 hope I've clarified
things. The important thing for you to
remember, Montag, is we're the Hap-
pines Boys, the Dixie Duo, you and
1 and the others. We stand against
the small tide of those who want to
make everyone unhappy with conflict-
ing theory and thought. We have our
fingers in the dike, Hold steady. Don't
let the torrent of melancholy and
dread philosophy drown our world.
We depend on you. I don't think you
realize how important you arc, we are,
to our happy world as it stands now.”

Beatty shook Montag's limp hand.
Montag still sat, as if the house were
collapsing about him and he could
not тоус, in the bed. Mildred had
vanished from the door.

“One last thing," said Beatty “At
least once in his career, every fireman
gets an itch. What до the books say,
he wonders. Oh, to scratch that itch,
ch? Well, Montag, take my word for it,
I've had to read a few in my time,
to know what I was about, and the
books say nothing! Nothing you can
teach or believe. They're about non-
existent people, figments of imagi
tion, if they're fiction. And if they're
nonfiction, опе professor
calling another an idiot, опе philoso-
pher screaming do other's gullet.
All of them running about, putting
out the stars and extinguishing the
sun. You come away lost.”

"Well, then, what if a fireman ас-
cidentally, really not intending any-
thing, takes a book home with him?"

Montag twitched. The open door

looked at him with its great vacant
eye.

“А natural error. Curiosity alone,”
said Beatty. “We don't get overanxious
or mad. We let the fireman keep the
book twenty-four hours. If he hasn't
bumed it by then, we simply come
bum it for him.”

"Of course,

Montags mouth was

dr.

“Well, Montag. Will you take an-
other, later shift, today? Will we sec
tonight perhaps
don't know." said Montag.

"What?" Beatty looked faintly sur-
priscd.

Montag shut his eyes. “ГИ be т
later. Maybe.”

“We'd certainly miss you if you
didn't show," said Beatty, putting his
pipe in his pocket thoughtfully.

I'l never come in again, thought
мар.
et well and keep well" said
Beatty.

He turned and went out through
the open door.

м

Montag watched through the win-
dow as Beatty drove away in his gleam-
ing yellow-flame-colored beetle with
the black, char-colored tires.

Across the street and down the way
the other houses stood with their flat
Íronts. What was it Clarisse had said
one afternoon? “Хо front porches.
My uncle says there used to be front
porches. And people sat there some-
times at night, talking when they
wanted to talk, rocking, and not talk-
ing when they didn't want to talk.
Sometimes they just sat there and
thought about things, turned things
over. My uncle says the architects got
rid of the front porches because they
didn't look well. But my uncle says
that was merely rationalizing it; the
real reason, hidden underneath, might
be they didn't want people sitting like
that, doing nothing, rocking, tali
that was the wrong kind of social li
People talked too much, And they
had time to think. So they ran off
with the porches. And the gardens,
too. Not many gardens anymore to
sit around т. And look at the furni-
ture. No rocking chairs anymore.
They're too comfortable. Get people
up and running around. My uncle
says... and... my unde... and

.. my unde..." Her voice faded.

Montag turned and looked at his
wife, who sat in the middle of thc
parlor talking to ап announcer, who
in turn was talking to her. "Mrs.
Montag," he was saving. Thi
and Ше other. “Mrs. Montag—"
Something else and still another. The
converter attachment, which had cost
them one hundred dollars, automatic-
ally supplied her name whenever the
announcer addressed his anonymous
audience, leaving a blank where the
proper syllables could be filled in.
A special spot — (continued overleaf)

Your Mind (continued from poge 47)

а great many mouths to feed,* he

talk with him and gave Thelma а
lock for the door to her room,
it worked out all right.

Mut today, Thelma ho» grown to
young womanhood and в sullering
Írom 2 peculiar phobia that nonc of
us have been able to understand. (See

Figure X).
==>

Thelma's phobin ix this: she lus a
morbid fear ol revolving doors,
At the present time 1 ата working

on a theory that this phobia is the
result of un earlier "Double Oodipus
Reversal Complex with a Hall

Gainer.” This, in simple language, is
а complex cawed by either’ (I) an
abnormal fear on the part ol the
child thar it Вю no abnormal fear
of any possible abnormal fears jt
might have about either оғ both of
ity parent, or (2) an acid condition
ot the моле”

"һа case presents. a clearcut
example of the phobia. Other common
examples

Қ fear of

of high

2. ALTOPHOBIA, fear

pieces
$ HYDROPHODIA, fear of venter
4. ALCOHOLISM, feer of one's

wife

5. ACTROPHORIA, feer о) bit
Players ше in Jenn. Crawford

tures

6, SAXOPHODIA, musical com-
position recorded by “Jelly Roll"
Morton and the Six Drown
Brothers (Hrunsuich)

7. OCHREPHOBLA, fear of being
covered with gold. paint (ви
complex)

В, MOLTIPHOBIA, combination
offer of any two of the above

* There were rele m our family, and
[уст months te feed. There но an
ex Menatton for this but I have been
asked mot to give it,

** When ту good friend amt one of
our mou able Congrenmen, the How
unable Птттон Сіз Шенген, recently
inserted this theory іп the “Congres
попа! Record” he weeived ап атт
lanche of тай, ай of which wos highly
fovorable (with the exception of thir
Тузік threatening and rather vulgar
telegrams that stated that the sender, а
Dr. Сей Gassoway, wes starting a peti-
tion for Representative Clabberoutts
recall. There mesager were turned
over to the FBI).

HALLUCINATIONS

A hallucination is bly the most
direct result of Copelessness, The sub-
jest, rejecting his environment com
pletely, imagines hirmelf to be some-
thing or somebody else

There is much to be said in favor
of such a procedure. At one time,
before 1 conceived the doctior. of
Avoidism (to be explained in a later
article), 1 comidered the idea of “Arti-
fially Induced Mass. Hallucinations”
as the way to solve modern. man's
problems.

FIGURE X
Sister Thelma Today

Later, | discarded the idea, but in

those days 1 was impetuous and had
a number of “filly Hallucination
Кїз” made vp to sell to the public.
These kits were based upon the Dale
Carnegie Theory that “everyone sab:
consciously hates everything and every-
body.”
The kits would enable any average
citien to activate thi subcommious
dislike Гог reality and "get away from
it all" by becoming anything he
wanted, from a Pak Bench (In-
animate Object. Outdoor Ки #54 B)
to Шо» Hope (lob Порс КИ
делу”.

The kits were rather ingenious, aod
worked like this И someone figured
out that the person he was was à no
good, had no friends, and was gener-
ally maladjusted, he would come to
me and tell me that be wanted to
become someone else lor a change, say.
Гог instance, the Emperor Nero.
would sel) him the “Hotorical Figure.
Early Roman, Ки #5036," Tha
ined a number of devices th
presented the essence of modern
life. Itemized, they were:

"I welfoperating automobile horns

*1 only sold one of these Bob Hope
Kits. П wor quile а few year ego,
and 1 was surprised to mahe the sie
Песи ме al that time there wan no such
peron ж Hob Hope. However, the
it worked so well thet the buyer. а
young laf) dancer named Lester some
thingorather, went on the radio ant
became Hob Hope, An interesting
sidelight,

3 continuous - ringing telephone
bells Е 2

1 automatic meeting gun

16 recordings of radio winging com
mercial

1 recording of radio disk jockey
introducing Бор record

1 glinder of compressed oir tahen
Пот Seventh Avenue Subway

1 box of aspirin (empty)

1 recording of neighbors arguing
about politics

1 drugstore-ty pe tuna-soled and: pea-
nut butter sandwich

1 copy of next year's Income Тох
Forms

1 telecon set

1 seoled box

“DIRECTIONS: Start the automo
bile horns, the telephone bells, and
the riveting gun. Зап playing all of
the recordings simultaneously. Tum
on the televivion set. Relewe com:
pressed air, Мато eating sandwich,
Study Income Tax Form. in as
pirin box end discover that it is empty,

“At this point a specially constructed
timing dase will pop open the sealed
box, inside of which is:

“1 toga
| crown of olive leaves

1 ішіп
1 бок of matches”

The hits were remarkably successful.
One elderly gentleman with a loose
upper plate who lived in Mobile, Ala-
bama, Came 10 sce me and told me he
was tired of being an elderly genile-
man with a loo upper plate who
lived in Mobile, М 1 "Med

#208,” and he become а Grand Piano,
In мо weeks, he had forgotten all of
his post worries about the upper plate
and spent most of his tine trying to
grt himelt tuned.

ОГ coune, there were à few iis
satisfied wr One тап who became
a Baked Potato (“Goober Ки НС?)
was always complaining because the

" he pul оп top of

n't melt,

I mention these details about th

kits becune, in spite of their acknowl

егей alfectivenes, the public did not

and to the idea, and 1 still happen

to have a few dozen. aworted kits on

hand. | would welcome correspon:

dence from. any enterprising party

anterested in their purchase, Whole-
aalety invited, Na ие

A WORD OF WARNING

These few case histories, although
only scratching the surface, bave, T
hope. given you an indication of the
quantity and quality of che Penonality
Problem affeaing people today. By
"people" 1 don't mean other, people-
These problems can and moy cilcct

you!

«8

м
е
а
>
я
“
-

FAHRENHEIT 451 osc pon poce

wavex-scrambler also caused his tele-
vised image, in the area immediately
about his lips, to mouth the vowels
and consonants beautifully. He was
a friend, no doubt of it, a good friend.
"Mrs. Montag — now look right here.”

Her head turned. Though she quite
obviously was not listening.

Montag said, "It's only a step from
not going to work today to not work-
ing tomorrow, to not working at the
firehouse ever again."

"You are going to work tonight.
though, aren't уой?" said Mildred.

“I haven't decided. Right now I've
got an awful feeling 1 want to smash
things and Kill things,"
take the beetle."

"No, thanks"

"The keys to the beetle are on the
night table. I always like to drive fast
when | feel that way. You get it up
around ninty five and you feel wonder.
ful. Sometimes I drive all night and
come back and you don't know it.
Its fun out in the country. You hit
rabbits, sometimes you hit dogs. Go
take the beetle.”

"No, I don't want to, this time. 1
want to hold onto this funny thing.
God, it's gotten big on me. I don't
know what it is I'm so damned
unhappy, I'm so mad, and I don't
know why. 1 (есі like Pm putting
on weight. 1 feel fat. I (ecl like I've
been saving up a lot of things, and
don't know what. 1 might even start
reading books."

“They'd put you in jail, wouldn't
they?” She looked at him as if he were
behind the glass wall.

He began to put on his clothes,
moving restlessly about the bedroom.
"Yes, and it might be a good idea.
Before I hurt someone. Did you hear
Beatty? Did you listen to him? Не
knows all the answers, He's right.
Happines is important, Fun is every
thing. And yet I kept sitting there
saying to myself, I'm not happy, I'm
not happy."

"Т am." Mildred's mouth beamed.
"And proud of it"

“I'm going to do something," said
Montag. "I don't even know what yet,
but I'm going to do something big”

“I'm tired of listening to this junk,"
said red, turning from him to
Ше announcer again.

Montag touched the volume control
im the wall and the announcer was
speechless,

"Millie?" He paused. “This is your
house as well as mine. I feel it's only
fair that I tell you something now,
1 should have told you before, but
1 wasn’t even admitting it to myself.
1 have something I want you to see,
something I've put away and hid
during the past year, now and again,
once in a while, I didn't know why,
but I did it and 1 never told you.”

He took hold of a straight-backed
chair and moved it slowly and steadily

into the hall near the front door and
climbed up on it and stood for a
moment Ше а аше ой в pedestal,
his wife standing under him, waiting.
Then he reached up and pulled back
the grille of the air-conditioning sys-
tem and reached far back inside to
the right and moved still another slid
ing sheet of metal and took out a
book. Without looking at и he dropped
it to the floor. He put his hand back
and took out two books and moved
his hand down and dropped the two
books to the floor. He kept moving
his hand and dropping books, small
ones, fairly large ones, yellow, red,
green ones. When he was done he
looked down upon some twenty books
lying at his wife's feet
m sorry," he said, “I didn't really
think. But now it looks as if we're
in this together."

Mildred backed away as if she were
suddenly confronted by a pack of mice
that had come up out of the floor.
Не could hear her breathing rapidly
and her face was paled out and her
eyes were fastened wide. She said his
name over, twice, three times. Then,
moaning, she ran forward, seized а
book and ran toward the kitchen in-
cinerator.

He caught her, shricking. Не held
her and she tried to fight away from
him, scratching.

"No, Millie, nol Wait! Stop it, will
you? You don't know + stop it!"
He slapped her face, he grabbed her
in and shook her.

She said his name and began to ery.

“Millie he said, "Listen. Give me
а second, will you? We can't do any-
thing. We can't burn these. 1 want
to look at them, at least look at them
once. "Then iat the Captain says is
truc, well burn them toegther, be-
lieve me we'll burn them together.
You must help me.” He looked down
into her face and took hold of her
chin and held her firmly, He was look-
ing not only at her, but for himself
and what he must do, in her face.
"Whether we like this or not, we're
in it. I've never asked for much from
you in all these years, but | ask it
now, I рай for it. We've got to
Mart somewhere here, figuring out
why we're in such а mess, you and the
medicine nights, and the car, and
me and my work. We're heading right
for the cliff, Millie. God, I don't want
to go over. This isn't going to be
сазу. We haven't anything to go оп,
but maybe we can piece it out and
figure it and help cach other. Г пес
you so much right now, 1 can't tell
you. If you love me at all you'll put
up with this, twenty-four, forty-eight
hours, that's all I ask, then it'll be
over, I promise, I swear! And if there
is something here, just one little thing
out of a whole mess of things, maybe
we can pass it on to someone else.”

She wasn't fighting any more, so he
let her go. She sagged away from him
and slid down the wall, and sat оп
the floor looking at the books. Her
foot touched onc and she saw this
and pulled her foot away

"That woman, the other night,
Millie, you weren't there. You didn't
see her face. And Clarisse. You never
talked to her. I talked to her. And
men like Beatty are afraid of her. I
can’t understand. и. Why should they
be so afraid of someone like her?
But 1 kept putting her alongside the
firemen in the House last might, and
1 suddenly realized I didn't like them
at all, and I didn't like myself at ай
any more. And I thought maybe it
would be best if the firemen them-
selves were burnt.”

D
The [ront door voice called softly:
"Mrs. Montag, Mrs. Montag, some:

опе here, someone here, Mrs. Montag,

Mrs. Montag, someone here."

Softly.

They turned to stare at the door
and the Looks toppled everywhere,
everywhere in heaps.

"Beatty!" said. Mildred.

"It can't Бе him."

“He's come back!" she whispered.

‘The front door voice called again

softly. “Someone here
"We won't answer,” Montag lay
back against the wall and then slowly

sank to а crouching position and be-
gan to nudge the books, bewilderedly,
with his thumb, his forefinger. He
was shivering and he wanted above all
to shove the books up through the
ventilator again, but he knew he could
not face Beatty again. He crouched
and then he sat and the voice of the
front door spoke again, more insist
ently. Montag picked a single small
volume from the floor, "Where do we
begin?” He opened the book halfway
and peered at it, "We begin by be-
ginning, 1 gues
Ней come in,” said Mildred, “and
burn us and the books!"

The front door voice faded at Jast.
There was a silence, Montag felt the
presence of мэтсопе beyond the door,
май Listening. Then the footsteps
going away down the walk and over
the lawn.

"Let's see what this is,” said Montag.

He spoke the words haltingly and
with a terrible self-consciousness, He
read a dozen pages here or there and
came at last to this:

“It is computed, that eleven thou-
sand persons have at several times
suffered death rather than submit to
break their eggs at the smaller end.”

Mildred sat across the hall from
him. "What docs it mean? It doesn't
mean anything! The Captain was
right!"

“Here now," said Montag. "We'll
start over again, at the beginning.”

(Continued next month)

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