The Major and the Minor Page #2

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You'd like one

of those cute animal-cutout books,

- wouldn't you, Wilbur?

- Paper dolls?

No, sometimes they can be quite frightening.

This is what I want,

Murder:
A Monthly Line-up. I want Murder!

Mother doesn't think that's very nice, Wilbur.

You'd like one of those books,

wouldn't you, Margie?

Well, I want Movie Parade.

See? "Why I Hate Women" by Charles Boyer.

Hey, buddy.

How would you like to make four bits?

I'd like it fine.

Okay, then buy me a half-fare ticket

to Stevenson, lowa.

Papa?

Sure, sure.

One half-fare to... To...

Stevenson.

One half-fare to Stevenson, Idaho, please.

Stevenson, lowa, Papa.

Oh, yes, that's right. Stevenson, lowa.

One half-fare, please.

- It's for the kid.

- How old are you?

Twelve next week.

Yeah, we're sending her

to her grandma's for her birthday.

I just love Grandma's, with all the moo-cows

and the birds and the little bunny rabbits.

With the big pink ears?

That'll be $16.25.

Now, don't lose this, Annie.

No, Papa.

Train on track 24. Here's your change.

Oh, thank you.

Oh, here's some change to buy yourself

some sandwiches with.

Seventy-five cents? Well, what about...

Now, that's all Papa can afford. Don't argue.

All right, Papa.

Come, my dear. Let's go.

Taking candy from a baby, huh?

You big baboon.

Some baby.

I've met a lot of crumbs in this town,

but of all the crummy crumbs...

That's a nice way to be talking to your papa.

Oh, give the gentleman your ticket.

She's going to her grandma's.

Well, good-bye... Elsie.

You be sure and write your papa.

I will. Kiss?

Good-bye, Daddy!

# A tisket, a tasket

A green and yellow basket

# I wrote a letter to my love

Tickets?

# And on the way...

Tickets.

# I dropped it

I dropped it

Tickets, please.

# And on the way, I dropped...

- You're not together?

- No!

# Wrote a letter to my love

# On the way I dropped... #

Half-fare.

- Yes, sir.

- Will you kindly stand up?

# I wrote

# Wrote a letter to my love...

All the way up, please.

# On the way, I dropped it #

How old are you?

Twelve next week.

You're pretty big for 12.

Yes, we all are, my whole family.

Swedish stock.

My brother Olaf is 6"2',

and he's only in the second grade.

When were you born?

Next week.

What year?

1941 minus 12.

Looks kind of filled out for 12.

Mama says we have some sort

of gland trouble, too, in the family.

She sent me to a doctor once,

in Des Moines, and he said not to worry.

He knew a little five-year-old boy once

who grew a beard.

Maybe I could sit down now, huh?

# Wrote a letter to my love

Change at Chicago.

# On the way, I dropped it #

Tickets, please.

# Wrote a letter to my love

On the way, I dropped it #

Why, you big gorilla...

How old did you say that boy was

that had to shave?

Well, maybe seven.

- And you're from Swedish stock, eh?

- Yes, sir.

If your people are Swedish,

suppose you say something in Swedish.

I want to be alone.

Well, kid, enjoying the scenery?

Kind of pretty out here, huh?

Maybe a little chilly, isn't it?

What's the matter? Lost your tongue?

Maybe those Swede glands

make her a little dumb.

No, she isn't dumb.

I'm sure she could tell us

how much two and two is. Come on, now.

Wouldn't you tell us?

Say, kid, when you smoke, do you inhale?

Let's see that hankie!

Hello?

Hello.

What is it, child?

Oh, nothing.

- I'm going...

- Are you lost?

Yeah. Sort of.

I mean, are you in the right car?

This is car 64.

- Oh, is it?

- Drawing room G.

Gee.

There's no need to be upset, child.

If you've lost your way,

it's the simplest thing in the worid.

You see, they give each car

a different number,

each compartment a different letter.

Like they give streets different names

and houses different numbers.

So people will find out where they belong.

Now, where do you belong?

78 North Elm Street.

No, no, I mean, on the train.

What's the letter in your compartment?

You know the alphabet, don't you?

Of course I know the alphabet.

Good. Now just think hard.

What's the letter

on your mother's compartment?

I'm not with my mother. I'm alone.

Well, then where's your ticket?

The man took it.

The conductor?

Then we'll have to ring for the conductor.

Oh, no! Please.

Don't be foolish, child.

When you get lost in a big city,

what do you do?

You try and find a nice, kind policeman

and ask him to help you, don't you?

But I don't need him. I know where I belong.

I belong up in the day coach.

Only I don't want to sit up in the day coach.

It makes me feel sicky here.

So they gave you some money

to get yourself supper,

and what did you buy?

A bottle of pop?

Some chocolate-covered marshmallows?

A bag of peanuts maybe?

And some little lemon drops.

And then everything

started going round and round inside.

Maybe this way.

So I thought maybe if I could find

someplace where there wasn't anybody,

maybe I could lie down a little bit.

Only the train's all full, I guess.

It certainly is.

Maybe if I held your head.

Oh, no, thank you.

It's just when I sit up or stand up.

Well, then lie down, child, quick. Come.

Oh, thank you, but this is your bed, isn't it?

Oh, that's all right. I have an upper here.

I'll ring for the porter

and have him make it up.

Oh, no, no!

- Why not?

- No...

Well, I'll only stay five minutes, maybe.

Oh, nonsense. You're going to sleep here.

How far are you going?

Stevenson, lowa.

Well, you're all set for tonight anyway.

I get off at High Creek, Indiana.

Oh, please don't ring for the porter.

Now, why, child?

Because the porter will tell the conductor,

and I'm scared of the conductor.

Now, why?

Because he's got long yellow teeth

and little bitsy eyes

and hands like a spider

with big black fur on them.

He's probably got a heart of gold.

The first time I saw him was in Africa

and then in an airplane

and then in the wizard's palace.

And every time I have a bad dream,

I still see the same...

Now, look, don't get so excited.

Tell me, child, what is your name?

Susan.

Only they call me Su-Su.

All right, Su-Su,

now don't you worry

about the porter anymore.

I'll make up the upper myself.

Oh, well, maybe...

Maybe I better go back to the day coach.

Why?

Well...

You're very kind,

but, well, my mother told me that...

Well, you see, you are a strange gentleman.

Yes, well, we can soon fix that.

My name is Kirby.

Major Phillip Kirby, United States Army.

Major? Like Major Bowes?

Well, just about.

You see, I'm assigned

as an instructor to a military institute.

Teaching the young, my dear, to shoot.

Well, I'm glad to meet you.

- How do you do?

- How do you do?

Well, that's all cleared up.

You see? It's just like travelling

with your grandfather or your uncle.

Now to bed.

Oh, just a minute, Major.

Oh, no, no, Su-Su,

please don't call me Major.

Call me Uncle Phillip, hmm?

Do you have a nightie with you?

Yes, Uncle Phillip.

Well, then suppose you go in there

and get changed.

Do you really think so?

Why, sure.

And just sing out

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