diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:10:33 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:10:33 -0700 |
| commit | ef85c088407fe727477aba745cabe4ea2f653f6c (patch) | |
| tree | 6f6f715c4e5b8e5c3ab3ba714003e75e18ddd279 /23889-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '23889-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 23889-h/23889-h.htm | 2528 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23889-h/images/001.png | bin | 0 -> 44709 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23889-h/images/002.png | bin | 0 -> 757 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23889-h/images/003.png | bin | 0 -> 28191 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 23889-h/images/004.png | bin | 0 -> 72739 bytes |
5 files changed, 2528 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/23889-h/23889-h.htm b/23889-h/23889-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe5e4ac --- /dev/null +++ b/23889-h/23889-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2528 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Charley de Milo, by Larry M. Harris + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + + h1 {text-align: left; clear: both; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5em;} + h2 {text-align: left; clear: both; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 1em;} + + hr {width: 45%; margin: 1em auto; visibility: hidden;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .figcenter {margin: 1em auto; width: 600px;} + .fighd1 {margin: 0em auto; width: 600px;} + .fighd2 {margin: 0em auto; width: 20em;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: both; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: .4em; margin-top: 0; + margin-right: .4em; padding: 0; width: 45px;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; width: 182px;} + + .poem {width: 20em; margin: 0 auto; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .trans1 {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + + img {border: none;} + + .author {text-align: left; margin-left: 50%; margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 1em;} + + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + + .illo {position: absolute; left: 10%; font-size: small; font-weight: bold; + text-align: left;} + .tease {margin: 1em auto 1.5em; width: 20em; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; + text-align: justify;} + .theend {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; margin-top: 2em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Charley de Milo, by +Laurence Mark Janifer AKA Larry M. Harris + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Charley de Milo + +Author: Laurence Mark Janifer AKA Larry M. Harris + +Illustrator: Ed Emshwiller + +Release Date: December 18, 2007 [EBook #23889] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHARLEY DE MILO *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="fighd1"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="600" height="512" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="fighd2"><h1>CHARLEY<br /> +de MILO</h1> + +<h2>By LARRY M. HARRIS</h2></div> + +<div class="illo">Illustrated by Emsh</div> + +<div class="tease"><big>It isn't at all obvious—at first thought—that +having two perfectly good, usable arms could be a +real handicap to a man....</big></div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"To be, or not to be—that is the question.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or to take arms ..."<br /></span></div></div> + +<p class="author"><i>Hamlet</i>, Act III, Scene I</p> + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/002.png" width="45" height="45" style="border: solid 1px;" alt="T" title="T" /> +</div><p><span class="dcap">he</span> rocket was on the +way up, but Professor +Lightning didn't seem +to care. Outside the +cooktent Wrout flapped +his arms and, on that signal, Seaman +started up the big electric band, +whooping it up with John Philip +Sousa for openers, while all over the +midway the lights snapped on, big +whites and yellows, reds, greens, +purples and dusky violets framing, +in a titillating dimness, the front flap +of the girlie tent. The outside talkers +were busy outside the spectacle tents +like Wicks' Hell Drivers, Biggest +Auto Show in Fifty States—outside +the grind shows, the eats, the rides: +"Here and now, for the fourth part +of one single dollar bill, the most +amazing ..." "... Terrifying and +strange beings from the farthest +reaches of the Earth who will exhibit +..." "... Dances learned at the +Court of the Sultan, Ay-rab dances +right here, right on the inside, for +only—"</p> + +<p>And the crowd, filing in, laughed +and chattered and shrieked on swooping +rides, the Great Crane, the Space +Race, the Merry-Go-Round and the +Horses, threw down money to win +a kewpie doll, a Hawaiian lei, a real +life-size imitation scale model of +Luna in three real dimensions ... +living it up on the first show, while +the rocket climbed on and out, and +bubbled excitement in the blood.</p> + +<p>The rocket was up: the carnival +was open. But Professor Lightning +didn't seem to care. He sat in the +cooktent with his eyes hooded and +hidden under the unshaded glow +of a hundred-and-fifty-watt Forever +bulb, while Charley de Milo fidgeted +his feet, and listened, and tried to cut +the old man off.</p> + +<p>"Look, professor," he said nervously, +"why don't we talk about it later? +Table it, till after the show?" He +scratched the side of his head with +his left foot. "I got to go on in a +couple of minutes," he said. "I can +hear the talker going now. I got +to—"</p> + +<p>"Forget the show," Professor +Lightning said. His voice was flatter +and harsher, and his face more tense, +than Charley ever remembered seeing +it. "The show isn't important."</p> + +<p>Charley blinked, trying to understand. +"But, Professor—"</p> + +<p>"Listen to me," Professor Lightning +said. "The world is at the beginning +of a new cultural revolution. +Since the Cold War melted, and freedom +of inquiry and research began +to live again on both sides of the +old Iron Curtain, science has begun +a new Renaissance. The cultural interflow +has—"</p> + +<p>"Please, professor," Charley said +miserably, rubbing his toes together. +"There isn't much time before I got +to go on. And you ought to be inside +the Science tent, too, because any +minute—"</p> + +<p>"If I am not in the tent," Professor +Lightning said calmly, "I will not +appear in the show. It does not +matter."</p> + +<p>"But they'll fire you," Charley said. +He grabbed for a cigarette with his +right foot and got it into his mouth. +Striking a match with his left foot, +he lit the cigarette and blew out a +long, ragged plume of smoke. "If +you're not there on time," he said in +strained tones, "they'll fire you. And +what about me?"</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning gestured with +both big hands. It was the same +movement he used every night, when +he showed the crowd there were no +wires or batteries secreted on his +person. Charley half-expected him to +grab hold of a couple of light bulbs +and show them glowing in his fists. +But the gesture was meant, this time, +as an aid to relaxation. "Don't +worry," Professor Lightning said, in +a grating sort of caricature of a soothing +tone. "If they fire me ... well, +then, they save me the trouble of +quitting. And as for you, my boy, +a carnival job should be the furthest +thing from your thoughts."</p> + +<p>"Well, it isn't," Charley said sourly. +"And if you'll excuse me, professor, +I care how I get the money to +eat, even if you don't. I got a good +job—"</p> + +<p>"You won't need your job," Professor +Lightning said, "if you'll listen +to me."</p> + +<p>Charley made up his mind. Much +as he hated to be impolite, there +were some things more important +than social forms, he decided. He +stood up. "After the show, professor," +he said with firmness, and went +out of the cooktent, heading at a +rapid dogtrot for the big tent at the +other side of the midway. As he +reached it he could see Dave Lungs, +the outside talker, climb up on the +front platform to begin his spiel.</p> + +<p>"Marvels of the world!" Dave announced +without preliminary. "Wonders +of the natural universe! Surprises +and startling sights for every member +of the family!" By the time he had +got that far, a crowd was beginning +to collect in front of the platform. +"For the fourth part of a single dollar +bill—" Dave went on, but Charley +didn't have the time to listen; he +was in the bally.</p> + +<p>He lifted the backflap of the tent +with one foot, and wriggled inside.</p> + +<p>As he made his way to the cluster +of people near the front flap, past +the booths and stands, he felt an +enormous sense of relief. He had +made it—with all of fifty seconds to +spare.</p> + +<p>Ned and Ed stood next to him. +"Where you been?" Ed said in a +nasal whisper.</p> + +<p>"I got held up," Charley explained. +"Professor Lightning, he was talking +to me, and—"</p> + +<p>"Later," Ned said. His voice was +lower and throatier than Ed's; it was +the only way Charley could tell them +apart, but then, he thought, nobody +ever had to tell them apart. They +were, like all Siamese twins, always +together. "We're going on," Ned +said, and he and his twin moved forward.</p> + +<p>Charley moved into place behind +them, and came out blinking in the +glare of the front platform.</p> + +<p>"Siamese twins," Dave was shouting. +"A contemporary marvel of +science, ladies and gentlemen—and +here we have ..."</p> + +<p>Charley stepped forward as Ned +and Ed stepped back into the shadows +again.</p> + +<p>"... Charley de Milo! Ladies and +gentlemen, the world-wide fame of +this brave and talented boy is stupendous! +His feats of skill will amaze +you! Watch him thread a needle! +Watch him comb his hair! And all +for one thin quarter, ladies and gentlemen, +only the fourth part—"</p> + +<p>The electronic band choked on +Sousa, coughed and began again with +Kabalevsky. Charley watched the +audience below, staring up at him, +hundreds of faces. He heard their +gasp as he flexed his shoulders and +turned. He grinned down, taking a +second longer than usual, and then +stepped back, still grinning.</p> + +<p>"Charley de Milo, the Armless +Wonder!" Dave said. "And many +more sights inside, ladies and gentlemen, +sights to amaze you, sights to +chill your very blood, sights ..."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>One-thirty, and the last show over. +The rocket had come down for the +night; all over the midway lights +were blinking off and silence was +creeping, like a stain, over the +ground. Professor Lightning was sitting +on his bunk, in the small tent +he shared with Erma the Fish Girl. +Erma was out drinking with Dave +Lungs and some of the others, and +only the professor and Charley de +Milo were in the room. Charley was +sitting on Erma's bunk, looking resigned.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you still want to talk to +me," he said, "now's your chance. +O.K.?"</p> + +<p>"I certainly want to talk to you," +Professor Lightning said firmly. "I +want to tell you of the most important +moment of your life."</p> + +<p>Charley tried to think of something +to say to this, but there wasn't anything. +He shifted on the bunk, +scratched at his nose with his left +foot, and grinned spastically. "Sure," +he said at random. "And, by the way, +I'm sorry about before, professor. But +the show was going on, and—"</p> + +<p>"The show," Professor Lightning +said, in tones of the utmost contempt. +"Forget about the show—now, and +tomorrow, and forever."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"No words," Professor Lightning +said, raising a hand delicately. +"Please. Allow me to tell you of my +invention."</p> + +<p>Charley sighed and lay back on the +bed. "Invention, professor?" he said. +"You mean sort of a machine?"</p> + +<p>For some reason, Professor Lightning +looked irritated. "It's not a +machine," he said flatly. Then he +sighed and his tone changed. "Charley, +my boy," he said, "do you +remember what I was telling you +before? About how the world has entered +a new Age of Science? How +new inventions, new discoveries, are +coming along every day?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sure," Charley said. "The +papers talk about it every once in +a while. You know, I see the papers, +or the Chicago <i>American</i>, anyhow. +My mother sends it to me. She likes +the columns."</p> + +<p>"Why," Professor Lightning went +on, as if he hadn't been listening at +all, "right here in Wrout's Carnival +Shows, we have things that just +didn't exist ten or fifteen years ago. +The electronic band. The Forever +bulb."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Charley put in. +"And look at Joe Wicks. Why, he +can do tricks with all those new +things they got on cars, tricks nobody +ever did before or even thought about +in the old days."</p> + +<p>"And more fundamental discoveries," +the professor said. "Chadwick's +Law of Dimensionality, Dvedkin and +the Ontological Mean ... oh, I +keep up with the literature. No matter +what's happened to me, I keep up +with the literature."</p> + +<p>Charley sighed, very softly so as +not to injure the professor's feelings. +But he did hope the old man wasn't +going to start on all those stories +about his lost career again. Charley +knew—everybody in the Wrout show +did—that Professor Lightning had +been a real professor once, at some +college or other. Biology, or Biological +Physics, or something else—he'd +taught classes about it, and done +research. And then there had been +something about a girl, a student the +professor had got himself involved +with. Though it was pretty hard to +imagine the professor, white-haired +and thin the way he was now, chasing +after a girl.</p> + +<p>He'd been fired, or something, and +he'd drifted for a while and then +got himself an act and come with a +Carnival. Charley knew the whole +story. He didn't want to hear it again.</p> + +<p>But the professor said: "I'm as +good as I ever was—better than I +ever was, my boy. I've been keeping +up, doing experiments. I've been +quiet about it."</p> + +<p>Everybody, Charley thought, knew +about Professor Lightning and his +experiments. If they kept the old man +happy, kept him contented and doing +shows, why not? After all, the old +guy didn't drink or anything really +serious; if he wanted to play around +with test tubes and even Bunsen +burners, people figured, why, let him.</p> + +<p>But Professor Lightning thought +nobody knew. Well, he had been +a real professor once, which is to say +a square. Some people never really +adjusted to carny life—where everybody +knows everything.</p> + +<p>Charley figured maybe it was better +to act surprised. "Really?" he said. +"Experiments?"</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning looked +pleased, which satisfied Charley. +"I've been on the track of something +big," he said. He seemed to be talking +more to himself than to Charley. +"Something new," he said. "And at +last ... at last, my boy, I've found +it. I'll be famous, Charley, famous—and +so will you!"</p> + +<p>"That's nice," Charley said politely. +Then he blinked. "But what do +you mean," he added, "me?"</p> + +<p>"I want you to help me," the +professor said. He leaned forward, +and in the dim light of the tent's +single lamp, his eyes glittered. "I +want you to come with me."</p> + +<p>"Come with you?" Charley said, +and swallowed hard. He'd never +thought, the way some did, that the +old man was crazy. But it did look +as if he'd slipped a couple of cogs +for sure and for real. "Where?" +Charley said.</p> + +<p>"Washington," the professor said +instantly. "New York. London, Paris. +Rome. The world, Charley. The +world that's going to do us homage."</p> + +<p>Charley shifted a little in the bed. +"Look, professor," he said, "I've got +a job, right here in the carny. I +couldn't leave here. So suppose we +just—"</p> + +<p>"Your job?" the professor said. +"Your job's gone, my boy. Wait. +Let me tell you what I've discovered. +Let me tell you what has happened—happened +to you, my boy. To you, +and to me."</p> + +<p>Charley sat upright, slowly. +"Well," he said, "all right, professor."</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning beamed, and +his eyes glittered brighter and brighter. +"Limb regeneration," he said, and +his voice was as soft and quiet as if +he'd been talking about the most +beautiful woman in the world. "Limb +regeneration."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Charley waited a long minute before +he admitted to himself that he +didn't have the faintest idea what the +professor was talking about. +"What?" he said at last.</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning shook his head +slightly. "Charley," he said softly, +"you're an Armless Wonder. That's +right, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Sure it is, professor," Charley +said. "You know that. I was born +that way. Made a pretty good thing +out of it, too."</p> + +<p>"Well," Professor Lightning said, +"you don't have to be one. Can you +realize that?"</p> + +<p>Charley nodded slowly. "Sure I +don't," he said. "Only it's pretty +good money, you know? And there's +no sense in sitting around back home +and feeling sorry for myself, is +there? I mean, this way I can make +money and have a job and—"</p> + +<p>"No," Professor Lightning said +emphatically.</p> + +<p>Charley blinked. "No?" he said.</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning shook his +head, meaningfully. "Charley, my +boy," he said, "I don't mean that +you should go home and mope. But +think about this: suppose you had +your arms? Suppose you had two +arms, just like everybody else."</p> + +<p>"Why think about anything like +that?" Charley said. "I mean, I am +what I am. That's the way things +are. Right?"</p> + +<p>"Wrong," Professor Lightning +said. "I can give you arms, Charley. +I can make you normal. Just like +everybody else."</p> + +<p>"Well," Charley said. After a few +seconds he said: "Gee." Then he +said: "You're kidding me, professor."</p> + +<p>"I'm perfectly serious," Professor +Lightning said.</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Let me show you," Professor +Lightning said. He stood up and went +to the flap of the tent. "Come with +me," he said, and Charley got up, +dumbly, and followed him out into +the cool darkness outside.</p> + +<p>Later, Charley couldn't remember +all that Professor Lightning had +showed him or told him. There were +some strange-looking animals called +salamanders; Professor Lightning had +cut their tails off and they'd grown +new tails. That, he said, happened +in nature. But he had gone a step +farther. He had isolated the particular +factor that made such regrowth possible.</p> + +<p>Charley remembered something +about a molecular lattice, but it didn't +make any sense to him, and was only +a puzzle. But the professor told him +all about the technique, in a very +earnest and scientific voice that was +convincing to listen to, and showed +him mice that he'd cut the tails off +of, and the mice had brand-new tails, +and even feet in one or two cases. +There were a whole lot of small +animals in cages, all together in back +of the professor's tent, and Charley +looked at all of them. The professor +had a flashlight, and everything was +very clear and bright.</p> + +<p>When the demonstration was over, +Charley had no doubts at all. It was +obvious to him that the professor +could do just what he said he could +do: grow limbs on things. Charley +scratched his head with his left foot, +nervously.</p> + +<p>"That's why I came to you," the +professor said. "I need a human +being—just to show the scientific +world that my technique works on +human beings. And I've worked with +you for a number of years now, +Charley."</p> + +<p>"Five," Charley said. "Five since +you came with Wrout."</p> + +<p>"I like you," the professor said. "I +want to make you the first, the very +first, person to be helped by my +technique."</p> + +<p>Charley shifted his feet. "You +mean you want to give me arms," he +said.</p> + +<p>"That's right," the professor said.</p> + +<p>"No," Charley said.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Professor Lightning nodded. +"Now, then," he said. "We'll get +right to work on ... Charley, my +boy, what did you say?"</p> + +<p>Charley licked his lips. "I said +no," he said.</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning waited a long +minute. "You mean you don't believe +me," he said at last. "You think I'm +some sort of a crackpot."</p> + +<p>"Not at all," Charley said politely. +"I guess if you say you can do this +... well, I see all the animals, and +everything, and I guess you can do +it. That's O.K."</p> + +<p>"But you're doubtful," Professor +Lightning said.</p> + +<p>Charley shook his head. "No," +he said. "You can do it, all right. I +guess I'm sure of that, professor."</p> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/003.png" width="182" height="550" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Then," the professor said, in a +tenser voice, "you think it might be +dangerous. You think you might be +hurt, or that things might not work +out right, or—"</p> + +<p>"Gee," Charley said, "I never +thought of anything like that, professor. +I know you wouldn't want to +hurt me."</p> + +<p>"I certainly wouldn't," Professor +Lightning said. "I want to help you. +I want to make you normal. Like +everybody else."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Charley said uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>"Then you'll do it," Professor +Lightning said. "I knew you would, +Charley. It's a great opportunity. +And I offered it to you because +you—"</p> + +<p>"Gee, I know," Charley said, feeling +more uncomfortable than ever. +"And don't think I don't appreciate +it. But look at it my way, professor." +He paused. "Suppose I had two arms—just +like everybody else, the way +you tell me. What would happen to +me?"</p> + +<p>"Happen?" Professor Lightning +blinked. "Why, Charley ... why, +you could do anything you liked. +Anything. You'd have the same opportunities +as anybody else. You +could be ... well, my boy, you could +be anything."</p> + +<p>"Could I?" Charley said. "Excuse +me for talking about this, professor, +but I've had a lot of time to think +about it. And it's all sort of new to +you. I mean, you weren't born the +way I was, and so you just don't +understand it."</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning said: "But, my +boy—"</p> + +<p>"No." Charley said. "Let me explain +this. Because it's important." +He cleared his throat, sat down on +the ground and fumbled for a cigarette. +He found one in his shirt +pocket, carried it to his lips with +his right foot, and lit a match with +his left. When he was smoking easily, +he went on.</p> + +<p>"Professor, do you know how old +I am?" he said. "I'm forty-two years +old. Maybe I don't look it, but that's +how old I am. Now, I've spent all +my life learning to do one thing, +and I do a pretty good job of it. +Anyhow, good enough to get me a +spot with Wrout's show, and probably +with anybody else I wanted to +work for."</p> + +<p>"But your arms—?" the professor +said.</p> + +<p>"That's what I mean," Charley +said. "I don't have any arms. I never +had any. Maybe I miss 'em, a little—but +everything I do is based on the +fact that I don't have 'em. Now, +professor, do you know what I am?"</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning frowned. +"What you are?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm an Armless Wonder," Charley +said. "That's a pretty good thing +to be. In a carny, they look up to +an Armless Wonder—he's a freak, +a born freak, and that's as high as +you can go, in a carny. I get a good +salary—I send enough to my mother +and my sister, in Chicago, for them +to live on. And I have what I need +myself. I've got a job, professor, and +standing, and respect." He paused. +"Now, suppose I had arms. I'd have +to start from scratch, all over again. +I'd have to start from the bottom up, +just learning the basic elements of +any job I signed on for. I'd be a forty-two-year-old +man doing the work +of an eighteen-year-old. And not +making much money. And not having +much standing, or respect."</p> + +<p>Charley took the cigarette out of +his mouth with his right foot, held +it for a second and put it back.</p> + +<p>"I'd be normal," he said. "I'd be +just like everybody else, professor. +And what do I want anything like +<i>that</i> for?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Professor Lightning tried everything, +but it wasn't any good. +"Fame," he said, and Charley pointed +out, calmly and reasonably, that +the kind of fame he'd get from being +an experimental subject was just like +being a freak, all over again—except +that it would wear off, and then, he +asked, where would he be? Professor +Lightning talked about Man's Duty +to Science, and Charley countered +with Science's Duty to Man. Professor +Lightning tried friendship, and argument, +and even force—but nothing +worked. Incredible as it seemed to the +professor, Charley was content to remain +a freak, an Armless Wonder. +More, he seemed to be proud and +happy about it.</p> + +<p>It was too bad that the professor +didn't think of the one argument that +might have worked. In the long run, +it wouldn't have made any difference, +perhaps—but it would have +cleared matters up, right there and +then. Because the one workable argument +had a good chance of succeeding.</p> + +<p>But, then, Professor Lightning +really didn't understand carny. He +never thought of the one good argument, +and after a while he gave up, +and went away.</p> + +<p>Of course, that was several days +later. Professor Lightning told Charley +that he was leaving for New +York, and Charley said: "What? In +the middle of the season?" Then he +told Wrout, and Wrout screamed and +ranted and swore that Professor +Lightning would never work in carny +again. "I'll have you blacklisted!" he +roared.</p> + +<p>And Professor Lightning shrugged +and smiled and went away to pack. +He took all his notebooks, and all the +cages with little animals in them, and +he didn't seem at all disturbed. "I'll +find another subject," he told +Charley, when he left. "When they +find out what I've got, in New +York, they'll provide me with subjects +by the hundred. I did want to help +you ..."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," Charley said honestly.</p> + +<p>"... But that's the way things +are, I suppose," Professor Lightning +said. "Maybe some day you'll +realize."</p> + +<p>Charley shook his head. "I'm +afraid not, professor," he said, and +Professor Lightning shook Charley's +foot, and left, and Charley went back +to work in the freak show, and for +a while he didn't even think about +Professor Lightning. Then, of course, +the news began to show up in the +Chicago <i>American</i>, which Charley got +two or three days late because his +mother sent it to him by mail.</p> + +<p>At first Charley didn't realize that +Dr. Edmund Charles Schinsake was +Professor Lightning, but then the +<i>American</i> ran his picture; that was +the day Professor Lightning was +awarded a medal by the AMA, and +Charley felt pleased and happy for +the old man. It looked as it he'd +got what he wanted.</p> + +<p>Charley, of course, didn't think +much about the professor's "limb regeneration"; +he didn't need it, he +thought, and he didn't want it, and +that was that.</p> + +<p>And then, one night, he was dropped +from the bally, and he asked +Dave Lungs about it, and Dave said: +"Well, we want the biggest draw we +can get, out there before the show," +and put Erma, the Fish Girl, out in +his place. And Charley started to +wonder about that, and after a few +days had gone by he found himself +talking about it, to Ed Baylis, over in +the cooktent while they were having +lunch.</p> + +<p>Baylis was a little man of sixty or +so, with a wrinkled face like a walnut +and a powerful set of lungs; he +was Wrout's outside talker for the +girlie show. "Because I'm old," he +said, grinning. "I don't have trouble +with the girls. And if I got to take +one off the bally or out of the show +there's no personal stuff that would +make it tough, see what I mean?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I'm worried about," +Charley said.</p> + +<p>"What?" Ed asked. He speared a +group of string beans with his fork +and conveyed them to his mouth. +Charley, using his right foot, did the +same.</p> + +<p>"The bally," Charley said. "The +way things are, Dave took me off, +and I'm worrying about it."</p> + +<p>"Maybe some kind of a change," +Ed said.</p> + +<p>Charley shook his head. "He said +... he said he wanted the biggest +draw out there. Now, you know I'm +a big draw, Ed. I always have been."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Ed said. He chewed another +mouthful and swallowed. "Still, +people want a change now and then. +Doesn't have to mean anything."</p> + +<p>"Maybe not," Charley said uncomfortably. +But he wasn't convinced.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The season drew to a close, and +Charley went off to the Florida Keys, +where he spent a month living with +some friends before holing up with +his mother and sister for the winter. +He was offered a job in New York, +at a year-round flea museum in Times +Square, but after some thought he +decided against it. He'd never had to +work winters, and he wasn't going to +start.</p> + +<p>After all, he was still doing well, +wasn't he? He told himself emphatically +that he was. He was an Armless +Wonder, a born freak, the top of the +carny ladder, with a good job wherever +he cared to look for one.</p> + +<p>He had to tell himself that quite a +few times before he began to believe +it.</p> + +<p>Spring came, and then summer, +and Charley kissed his mother and his +sister good-by and joined Wrout's +Carnival Shows in Summit, Idaho, +three days before their opening. He +didn't notice much change from previous +years, but it took an effort not +to notice some things.</p> + +<p>Not like the new man who'd taken +Professor Lightning's place—a tall +thin youngster who had an Electric +Chair act. Or like the periodic quarrels +between Ned and Ed; it seemed +they'd met a girl over the winter season, +and disagreed about her. Ed +thought she was perfectly wonderful; +Ned couldn't see her for beans.</p> + +<p>No, things like that were a part of +carny; you got used to them, as the +show rolled along year after year, and +paid no more attention to them than +a housewife pays to rather uninteresting +back-fence gossip.</p> + +<p>It was something else that had +changed, something important.</p> + +<p>His contract, for instance. It was +made out for the same pay as he'd +been getting, but the option periods +were shortened up; suddenly, Charley +was living from season to season, +with almost no assurance of continuous, +steady work. Old man Wrout +had looked a little less than happy +when he'd given Charley the contract; +he'd almost seemed ashamed, +and he hadn't really looked Charley +in the eye once. But when Charley +asked what was wrong, he got no +answer.</p> + +<p>Or none that meant anything. "It's +just the way things are," Wrout muttered. +"Don't make no difference, +kid."</p> + +<p>But it did make a difference. Charley +wasn't out in the bally any more, +either; he was backstage among the +second-rate acts, the tattooed man and +the fire-eater and the rest, while Erma +and Ned and Ed and the top-liners +took their bows out before the crowd, +pulling them in, and got the gasps +and the applause.</p> + +<p>The crowds in front of his own +platform, inside during the show, +were smaller, too. At first Charley +thought that was due to the bally itself, +but as the season began and wore +on, the crowds continued to shrink +beyond all expectation. Counting as +he worked, combing his hair with +one foot, drawing little sketches for +the customers ("Take one home for +only one extra dime, a treasured souvenir +especially personalized for you +by Charley de Milo")—counting the +house, he discovered one evening that +he was the smallest draw in the tent. +The tattooed man did better than +Charley de Milo, which was enough +of a disgrace; the rest were so far +ahead that Charley didn't even want +to think about it.</p> + +<p>His first idea was that somebody +was out to get him. He could feel the +muscles of his shoulders and back +bunching up when he tried thinking +what to do about the sabotage that +had struck him; but an Armless Wonder +has one very real disadvantage. +He can comb his own hair and brush +his own teeth; he can feed himself +and—with proper clothing—dress +himself; he can open doors and shut +windows and turn the pages of books. +But he can't engage in a free-for-all +fight, not without long and careful +training in that style of battle known +as <i>savate</i>, or boxing with the feet. +Charley had never learned <i>savate</i>; he +had never needed it.</p> + +<p>For the first time since he could +remember, he felt helpless. He wasn't +normal; he couldn't do what any normal +man could do. He wanted to find +the man who was sabotaging his +show, and beat him into a confession, +and throw him off the lot—</p> + +<p>And he couldn't.</p> + +<p>The muscles of his back pulled and +pulled at him. He clenched his jaw. +Then Dave Lungs came over to his +platform and he forced himself to +relax, sweating. There were four or +five people behind Dave, ordinary +marks with soft, soft faces and round +eyes. While Dave talked Charley +went through his act; perhaps ten +other marks were scattered in the +tent, standing at other platforms, +watching other acts even without +Dave there to guide them and talk +them up.</p> + +<p>And when he was through Dave +sold exactly one of the sketches Charley +had done. One. An old man +bought it, a chubby little Santa Claus +of a man with eyes that twinkled and +a belly that undoubtedly shook like a +jelly bowl when it was freed from its +expensive orlon confines. Dave went +off to the next platform, where Erma +stood, and the marks followed him, +and more drifted over. Erma had ten +customers, Charley noticed, and he +grabbed a handkerchief from the +platform floor and wiped his damp +face with one foot.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>Something's wrong</i>, he thought +stupidly, and he must have said it +aloud because, at his feet, a high, +thin old voice said: "What was that, +son? Did you say something?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all," Charley mumbled, +and looked down. The Santa +Claus man was staring up at him. +"Show's over," Charley said, more +curtly than he meant. He took a deep +breath and set his feet more firmly on +the platform, but it didn't do any +good. He was like a coiled spring, +waiting for release.</p> + +<p>"I don't expect any show," Santa +Claus said. "Really I don't. But I did +want to talk to you for a few minutes, +if you don't mind."</p> + +<p>"I'm not in a talking mood," Charley +said. "Sorry." He was ashamed of +the words as soon as he brought them +out; that was no way to treat any +stranger, not even a mark. But it was +a long second before he could say +anything else. Santa Claus stood +watching him patiently, holding +Charley's sketch by one corner in his +left hand.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," Charley said at last. +"It ... must be the heat. I'm kind +of on edge."</p> + +<p>"Of course," Santa Claus said. "I +understand. Really I do."</p> + +<p>There was a little silence. Dave +and the crowd trailed away from +Erma and headed for Senor Alcala, +the fire-eater at the end of the row. +Charley barely heard Dave's spiel; he +licked his lips and said: "You wanted +to talk to me."</p> + +<p>"Now," Santa Claus said, "I don't +want you to be ashamed of anything. +There's nothing personal in this, +really there isn't. But I do want to +help if I can, help anyone who needs +help."</p> + +<p>"I don't need help," Charley said. +"I'm sorry." He tried to keep his +voice gentle. The old man obviously +meant well; there was no sense in +hurting him.</p> + +<p>"It's your ... infirmity," Santa +Claus said. "Boy, have they been +keeping the news from you?"</p> + +<p>"News?" Charley said, with a sudden +sick feeling.</p> + +<p>"In New York," Santa Claus said. +"There's a doctor there—a man who +can help people like you. He has a +new technique. I was reading in the +papers just the other day—there was +a man injured in a railroad accident, +who lost one arm and one leg. This +doctor used him as his first subject."</p> + +<p>"He said he'd find another one," +Charley put in without thinking.</p> + +<p>"Another?"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't matter," Charley said. +"You were going to suggest that I go +and see this doctor. Is that right?"</p> + +<p>"Well," Santa Claus said, seeming +oddly embarrassed, "it can't hurt, you +know. And it might help. Really it +might. And then ... then you might +not have to ... have to be the way +you are, and do what you do."</p> + +<p>Charley took a long breath. "I'll +think about it," he said, in the very +politest tone he could manage.</p> + +<p>"I only want to help," Santa Claus +said.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you do," Charley said. +"And thanks."</p> + +<p>"If there's anything I can do—"</p> + +<p>Charley smiled down. "That's all +right," he said. "Thanks. But I guess +you'd better join the rest—if you +want to see the show at all."</p> + +<p>Santa Claus said: "Oh. Of course." +He turned and found the group just +leaving Senor Alcala's platform, and +scurried off to catch up with them. +Charley stared at his retreating back, +fighting to stay calm.</p> + +<p>That was the way marks were, of +course, and there wasn't anything to +be done about it. It was always "the +way you <i>have</i> to be," and "the things +you <i>have</i> to do." It never seemed to +enter their heads that pity was unnecessary +baggage where a born freak +was concerned, any more than it had +entered Professor Lightning's head. +A born freak, Charley reflected, had +a pretty good life of it, all told; why, +even marriage wasn't out of the question. +Charley knew of some very +happy ones.</p> + +<p>But the marks pitied you, Charley +thought. And maybe it wasn't especially +smart to tell them anything different; +pity, as much as anything else, +keep them coming. Pity, and a kind +of vicarious victory. When Charley +threaded a needle, he was telling all +the marks: "It doesn't matter what +kind of accident happens to you—you +can overcome it. You can go on and +do anything. It's all what you make it—everything, +every bad turn life +hands you can be made into something +better. If I can do it, you can +do it."</p> + +<p>That was what the marks felt, +Charley thought. It was wrong-headed, +it was stupid, and it could be a +simple nuisance—but it brought in +the dough. Why argue with it? Why +try to change it?</p> + +<p>Charley nearly grinned. The crowd +of marks moved on down the other +side of the tent, and Charley watched +them. Ned and Ed drew the biggest +crowd, an attentive, almost rapt crew +who could be suckered into buying +anything the Siamese twins wanted to +sell them. Dave milked them for all +they were worth, and Charley nodded +quietly to himself. Dave was a good +carny man.</p> + +<p>He worked for the good of the +show. Or—did he?</p> + +<p>Dave had taken him off the bally. +Did Dave have some reason to hate +him? Could Dave be out to get him?</p> + +<p>Charley couldn't think why, but it +was a lead, the only one he had. And +if Dave did turn out to be behind +everything that was happening, Charley +knew exactly what he was going +to do.</p> + +<p>He couldn't beat Dave himself.</p> + +<p>But he had friends—</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>After the show, that night, Charley +went hunting for Ed Baylis. Ed had +been around Wrout's a long time, +and if anything were going on Ed +would know about it. Charley went +down to the girlie tent, and found +Ed just clearing up. All over the midway, +the lights were going out, and +the Mars Race game gave one final +roar and came to a halt. The last customers +were leaving.</p> + +<p>Ed looked up when he came over. +Charley didn't ease into the subject; +he couldn't. "Something's wrong," +he said at once. "I'm off the bally, +and the crowds are going down. I +don't like it, Ed."</p> + +<p>Baylis shrugged. "Who would?" +he said.</p> + +<p>"But—something's wrong," Charley +said. "Ed, you know what's happening. +You get the word. Let me in +on it."</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about +this," Ed said at once. But his face +was still, his eyes shuttered in the +darkness.</p> + +<p>Charley kept after him. They went +behind the girlie tent, talking softly. +Overhead a rocket burned by, but +neither man looked up.</p> + +<p>At last Ed sighed. "Just forget +about it," he said. "Just do your job. +That's all that matters. You don't +want to know anything else."</p> + +<p>"Why don't I?" Charley said. +"Sure I do. And it's no good telling +me to do my job. The way things are +running, Ed, I'm not going to <i>have</i> +a job very long."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing you can do about +it," Ed said. "Believe me. You don't +want to know because knowing +wouldn't do you any good. And you +wouldn't believe me if I told you."</p> + +<p>"Try me," Charley said. "Go +ahead." He scratched at one shin +with the other foot.</p> + +<p>"Well," Ed began, and then stopped. +He shook his head. "Look, +Charley, let me tell this my way. +Something like this happened before. +A long while back—before the Cold +War started, let alone ended."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," Charley said. A drop +of sweat ran slowly down his forehead. +He tried to ignore it.</p> + +<p>"Did I ever tell you I used to talk +for a strong-man act?" Ed said. "Not +a sideshow talker, nothing like that; +this guy had an act of his own, full +tent and flies. Gondo, his name was, +and I can still see those flies: <i>Eighth +Wonder of the World</i> up on top, red +on blue, and just <i>Gondo</i> underneath, +pure white with red outlining. Class, +but flashy, if you see what I mean. +You never saw the like, kid."</p> + +<p>Charley shook his head. "O.K.," +he said. "But what does this have to +do with—"</p> + +<p>"Well," Ed cut in, "that was years +ago; I was a youngster, pretty well +just setting out. And Gondo drew +crowds—big crowds. Lifting a wagonload +of people on his back—that +was one of his tricks. I think Sandow +himself used to do it, but he had +nothing on Gondo; the guy had style. +Class. And he was a draw; I was +working for J. C. Hobart Shows then, +and there was nothing on the lot to +top him."</p> + +<p>Ed paused, rubbing at his chin reflectively.</p> + +<p>"Then the crowds started to fall +off," he said. "Just like with you, +Charley. And nobody knew why. +Gondo was doing the same act—no +change there. So the change had to +be some place else."</p> + +<p>"Same with me," Charley said.</p> + +<p>"Sure," Ed said. "The same with +you. Charley, do you follow the +papers?"</p> + +<p>"I guess so," Charley said. "One, +anyway. My mother sends it to me +from Chicago. She likes the—"</p> + +<p>"Sure," Ed said. "Well, did you +ever hear about a Dr. Schinsake? +Edmund Charles Schinsake?"</p> + +<p>Charley snorted in surprise. "Who +do you think you are?" he said. +"Santa Claus?"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," Charley said. "It's +just ... well, nothing. But sure, I +know the guy. And so do you." He +explained.</p> + +<p>"Professor Lightning?" Ed said. +"I never saw a picture. But it doesn't +matter—except maybe it'll make the +guy easier to see. Because this is it, +Charley; I think you ought to go and +see him."</p> + +<p>There was a little silence.</p> + +<p>"You, too?" Charley said. "You +mean, so I can stop being a poor, +poor cripple and stop making lots of +money? Is that what you're talking +about?"</p> + +<p>"Listen, Charley," Ed said. "I—"</p> + +<p>"Just give up," Charley cut in. +"That's what you want me to do. Just +give up and go to the good old doctor +and ask him to give me some arms. +Is that what you wanted to tell me +about this Gondo of yours? How he +just gave up and got a nice little +white cottage some place and got a +nice little low-paying job and lived +unhappily ever after, because a carny +isn't a healthy, well-adjusted life? Is +that it, Ed?"</p> + +<p>Ed Ribbed at his chin. "No, Charley," +he said. "No, kid. Not at all. +But I think you ought to—"</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't," Charley said. +"Look, Ed: I want you to get this +straight. I don't care who's against +me, or what they've got planned. I'm +not going to give up. I'm going to +find out what's going on, and I'm +going to lick it. Have you got it?"</p> + +<p>Ed sighed. "I've got it," he said. +"But, Charley: there are some things +you don't lick."</p> + +<p>"I'll find out," Charley said. "Believe +me, Ed. I'll find out."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>But nobody else knew a thing—or, +at least, nobody was willing to +talk. Ned and Ed offered any help +they could give—but said nothing +that helped. Erma was puzzled, but +ignorant; Senor Alcala knew nothing, +and no one else was any better off, +as far as Charley could discover.</p> + +<p>After a week, Charley decided +there was only one person for him to +see. Ed Baylis had recommended him, +and so had the little Santa Claus. +Professor Lightning didn't look like +much of a lead, but there was nothing +else left. The audience was still +dropping, little by little, and Charley +knew perfectly well that something +had to be done, and fast.</p> + +<p>Getting a leave of absence was +even easier than he'd expected it to +be; and that was just one more proof +of how far his standing with the +show had dropped. People just didn't +care; he wasn't a draw any more.</p> + +<p>And his standing with the carny +was all he had left. He had caught +himself, lately, wondering if he +would really be so badly off with two +arms, like everybody else. The idea +frightened him, but the way it kept +coming back frightened him even +more.</p> + +<p>Leaving the carny lot, of course, +he put on his sandals; outside the +carnival, he had to wear shoes. They +were laceless, of course, and made to +be kicked off easily. Charley slipped +into them and thought wryly of the +professor and his "scientific Renaissance." +The shoes were a new plastic, +lightweight and long-lasting, but the +dyeing problem hadn't quite been +solved. Instead of a quiet, dull brown, +they were a garish shade that almost +approached olive drab.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/004.png" width="600" height="438" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Well, he thought, nothing's perfect. +He shrugged into a harness and +had his single suitcase attached to it; +the harness and case were lightweight, +too, and Charley headed for +the station walking easily.</p> + +<p>He climbed aboard the train and +dropped his suitcase into the Automatic +Porter, and then went to find a +seat. The only one available was next +to a middle-aged man chewing a +cigar in a sour silence. Charley slipped +into his seat without a word, and +hoped the man would ignore him. He +had a face like an overripe summer +squash, and his big hands, clasped in +his lap, were fat and white, covered +with tiny freckles. Charley leaned +back and closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>A minute or so passed in silence.</p> + +<p>Then a voice said: "Heading for +New York?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Charley said tiredly. +He opened his eyes. The middle-aged +man was leaning toward him, +smelling of his cheap cigar.</p> + +<p>"Likewise," the man said. His +voice was hoarse and unpleasant. "I +thought you might be."</p> + +<p>"That's right," Charley said. +"Long trip." He hoped desperately +that the man would leave him alone. +He wasn't on display now; he wanted +the time to think, to try and figure +out what had been happening. He +had to have some questions to ask +Professor Lightning, and that meant +that he had to have some sort of plan +of action.</p> + +<p>"Going to see that doctor," the +middle-aged man said. "That right?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Charley said. Apparently +Professor Lightning had become +a nine-day wonder; anyone +going to New York was presumed +to be going to see him.</p> + +<p>Then Charley corrected himself. +Not anyone.</p> + +<p>Any cripple.</p> + +<p>"Get the arms fixed, right?" the +middle-aged man said.</p> + +<p>"That's right," Charley said for +the third time. Maybe the man would +take the hint.</p> + +<p>But he had no such luck. "That's +a fine thing the doctor is doing," he +said. "I mean, helping all these people. +Don't have to be ... well, look, +bud, don't take me personally."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind," Charley said. "I'm +used to it."</p> + +<p>"Sure," the man said. "Hey, by the +way. My name's Roquefort. Al +Roquefort."</p> + +<p>"Charley de Milo," Charley said.</p> + +<p>"Glad to know you," the man +said. "So while we're traveling companions, +you might say ... might as +well get to be friendly."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Charley said tiredly. He +looked round the car. A great many +people seemed to be heading East. +There were no other seats. Charley +sighed and shrugged himself deeper +into the upholstery.</p> + +<p>"You know," Roquefort said suddenly, +"I can't help thinking."</p> + +<p>"Oh?" Charley said, fidgeting his +feet.</p> + +<p>"That's right," Roquefort said. "I +mean, all these people. And Dr. +Schinsake. I remember once, I went +to a circus, or a sideshow."</p> + +<p>"Carnival, probably," Charley put +in, knowing exactly what was coming.</p> + +<p>"Something like that," Roquefort +said. "Anyhow, they had this sideshow, +and there was a man there +without any legs. Did all kinds of +tricks—got along real good. But I +can't help thinking now: he wouldn't +have to get along that way any more. +Because this doctor would fix him +up."</p> + +<p>"I guess so," Charley said wearily.</p> + +<p>"Sure," Roquefort said. "It's a +great thing, what he's doing. All +these freak shows ... you understand, +it's just a name for them—"</p> + +<p>"I understand," Charley said. +"Don't worry about it." He shifted +his feet nervously. Shoes always felt +a little uncomfortable, even lightweight +sandals; he felt trapped in +them. Now, if he had arms and +hands ...</p> + +<p>He choked the thought off before +it got any further.</p> + +<p>"All these shows," Roquefort said, +"why, there isn't any need for them +any more. I mean the people without +legs, or arms, anyhow. See? Because +this doctor—"</p> + +<p>"I see," Charley said.</p> + +<p>"Why, anybody works in a show +like that, I mean without arms or legs—why, +he's just crazy, that's all. +When he can get help, I mean."</p> + +<p>"Sure," Charley said uneasily. +"Sure, he's just crazy."</p> + +<p>Roquefort chomped on his cigar +and looked solemn and well-informed. +Charley shivered slightly, and +wondered why.</p> + +<p>"Just crazy." Was that what they +thought, he wondered. Was that what +they were thinking when they looked +up at him?</p> + +<p>He shivered again and slipped his +shoes off quietly. Immediately, he felt +a little better.</p> + +<p>But not very much.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>New York was a madhouse worse +than any carnival Charley had ever +seen. He made his way, harness and +suitcase on his back, through the station +crowds and out into the taxi +ramp. A line of the new cabs stood +there, and Charley managed to grab +one inches ahead of a woman with a +small, crying child in tow. He gestured +to the driver with his head, and +the door slid open. He stepped inside, +released the catch that let his suitcase +thump to the floor, and sat down with +a sigh.</p> + +<p>"Tough, hey?" the cabbie said. His +glowing nameplate read <i>David Peters +Wells</i>. He turned around, showing +a face that had little in common +with the official license photo, under +his name. He was swarthy and short, +with large yellowing teeth and tiny +eyes. "Where to, Mac?" he said.</p> + +<p>Charley licked his lips. "I really +don't know," he said.</p> + +<p>The cabbie blinked. "What?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to need some help," +Charley said. "I want to find a Dr. +Schinsake, but I don't know where he +is. If you can drive me to a drugstore, +where we can look him up in a phone +book—"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Schinsake?" the driver said. +"That's the guy who grows things? +I mean, arms and legs? Like that?"</p> + +<p>"That's right," Charley said.</p> + +<p>"O.K., buddy," the driver said. +"Just hang on." The cab started with +a cough and a roar, and shot out of +the terminal like a bazooka shell. +Over the noise of travel, the cabbie +said: "Going to get yourself fixed +up? No offense, Mac."</p> + +<p>"No offense," Charley said. "I'm +just going to talk to him."</p> + +<p>"Oh," the cabbie said. "Sure." +There was silence for a second. Then +the cabbie turned around. The machine +shot ahead, down a wide avenue +filled with cars. Charley took a deep +breath and forgot to let it go. "You +know," the cabbie said, "I seen something +funny the other day."</p> + +<p>"Really?" Charley said, through +clenched teeth.</p> + +<p>The cabbie turned back casually, +flicked the wheel to avoid an oncoming +truck, and continued: "Funny, +yeah. Went to the Flea Museum ... +you know, the sideshow here, on +Forty-second?"</p> + +<p>"I know it," Charley said. He'd +been offered winter work in the place +several times, though he'd never accepted. +Everyone in carny life knew +of the place.</p> + +<p>"And, anyhow, I went down the +other day, and there was this guy ... +he was like you, Mac, I mean no +arms. You don't mind me talking +about it?"</p> + +<p>Apparently everybody thought he +was sensitive on the subject, Charley +reflected tiredly. "I don't mind," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Sure," the cabbie said. A red +light showed ahead and the cab +screeched to a halt. "Anyhow, there +he was, like a freak, you know? Hell, +Mac, I was mad. I mean mad. The +guy wants me to pay money to see +him; he don't want to go get cured. +He's like lazy, Mac. Lazy. Wants to +sit around and let me pay money I +work hard for, like some kind of a +stuffed exhibit he thinks he is." The +light changed; the cab shuddered and +moved on. "And this doctor right +here in the same city. Now, what do +you think of that?"</p> + +<p>Charley shrugged. "I wouldn't +know," he said cautiously. He took +out a cigarette with his left foot, lit it +with his right, and slid both feet back +into his shoes. "Nearly there?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>"No offense, Mac," the cabbie +said, sounding obscurely troubled. +"We're there in a minute." He turned +and stared narrowly at Charley. +The cab shot blindly on. "Say, listen. +That with the cigarette. You belong +to some kind of sideshow? I mean, +no offense—"</p> + +<p>"No offense," Charley said. +"That's right. I'm with a carnival."</p> + +<p>"We'll, you're doing the right +thing," the cabbie said, turning back +to the road again. Amazingly, there +was no obstruction before them. "I +mean, a guy has to be honest. With +this doctor around, you can't be a no-arms +guy any more; it's not fair. +Right?"</p> + +<p>Charley licked his lips. The cab +stopped.</p> + +<p>"Here we are," the driver announced.</p> + +<p>Charley indicated his grouch-bag, +still heavy with dollar bills, hanging +round his neck. With scrupulous care, +the driver extracted one bill. "Keep +the change," Charley said. "And +thanks for the conversation."</p> + +<p>He stepped out, hooking the suitcase +to his harness as he did so. And +there, in front of him, was a small +white-faced stone building. The cab +roared away behind him, and Charley +started across the sidewalk.</p> + +<p>Now, in New York, he had found +out what he was going to ask Professor +Lightning. And it was the one +thing he hadn't thought possible.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>One flight of stairs led straight up +from the doorway, and Charley took +it slowly. At the top was a great +wooden door with a brass plate screwed +to it, and on the brass plate a single +name was incised: <i>Dr. E. C. +Schinsake</i>. There was nothing else. +Charley slipped the shoe off his right +foot, and rang the bell.</p> + +<p>A voice inside said: "Who's there? +Who is it, please?"</p> + +<p>"It's me, professor," Charley called. +He slipped the sandal back on. +"Charley de Milo. I came to see you."</p> + +<p>"Charley—" There was a second +of silence. "Charley de Milo?" Professor +Lightning's grating voice said. +"From the show?" Footsteps came +across a room, and the door swung +open. Professor Lightning stood inside, +just as tall and white-haired as +ever, and Charley blinked, looking at +him, and past him at the room.</p> + +<p>People didn't live in rooms like +that, he thought. They were only for +the movies, or maybe for millionaires, +but not for people, real people that +Charley himself knew to talk to.</p> + +<p>The furniture—a couch, a few +chairs and tables, a phonograph—was +glitteringly new and expensive-looking. +The walls were freshly painted +in soft, bright colors, and pictures +hung on them, strange-looking pictures +Charley couldn't make sense out +of. But they looked right, somehow, +in that room.</p> + +<p>On the floor there was a rug deeper +and softer-looking than any Charley +had ever seen. And, away to the +right, two floor-length windows sparkled, +hung with great drapes and +shining in the daylight. There were +flowers growing outside the sills, just +visible above the window frames. +Charley gulped and took a breath.</p> + +<p>"Come in," Professor Lightning +said. "Come in." In the midst of the +riot of wealth, the professor didn't +seem to have changed at all. He was +still wearing the same ratty robe he'd +worn in the carnival, his hair was still +as uncombed. It was only on second +glance that Charley saw the look in +his eyes. Professor Lightning was Dr. +Schinsake now; the eyes said that, +and were proud of it. And the world +agreed with Dr. Schinsake.</p> + +<p>Charley came into the bright room +and stood quietly until Dr. Schinsake +asked him to sit down.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, my boy," he said. +"You haven't given me a word since +you rang the bell, and I would like to +know why you're here. Frankly, +you're lucky to catch me in; but we +were up late last night, working in +the labs. I'm afraid I overslept a +little." His eyes shone with the mention +of his laboratories. It was a far +cry from the back of the science tent, +Charley supposed.</p> + +<p>But he'd come for a definite purpose. +He licked his lips, waited a second, +and said: "Professor, it's about +my arms. What you said you could +do."</p> + +<p>"Your arms?" The old man frowned. +"Now? You've come to me ... +Charley, my boy, tell me why. Tell +me why you have changed your mind +now."</p> + +<p>Charley nodded. "I ... I didn't +start out here to ask you about my +arms," he said. "But on the way I +started putting things together. Professor, +why do people come to side-shows?"</p> + +<p>The old man shrugged. "Entertainment," +he said.</p> + +<p>"Sure, but there are all kinds of +entertainment," Charley said. "Like +strong men. There used to be a lot of +strong men in carnivals, but there +aren't any more. And now I know +why. Ed Baylis started to tell me, but +I ... well, never mind."</p> + +<p>"Charley," the old man said. +"What do strong men have to do +with—"</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you, professor," Charley +said. "People don't care about +strong men any more; there are too +many gadgets around. Nobody has to +be a strong man; nobody wants to +watch one. They're useless. See?"</p> + +<p>"Everyone can be his own strong +man," the old man said.</p> + +<p>"Right," Charley said. "The chain +hoist—machines like that—they killed +off the whole act. Years ago. And +you've killed off the Armless Wonders +and the Legless Wonders, professor. +You've done it, all at once."</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning shook his +head. "I don't see—" he began.</p> + +<p>"Anybody can grow new arms," +Charley said. "So the man without +arms—he's not an object of pity any +more. He's just some guy who doesn't +want to work. Nobody wants to go +and see him; let him grow arms, if +he doesn't want to be called a lazy +bum. See?"</p> + +<p>There was a little silence.</p> + +<p>"I see," Professor Lightning said +slowly. "Without pity, without a +strong sense of identification, there is +no audience."</p> + +<p>"For me there isn't," Charley +said. "Or for anybody like me."</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning nodded. +"Well," he said. "I hardly meant to +... well, Charley, you came for +something else." His face seemed to +lengthen. "And I must tell you ... +Charley, I have been doing a lot of +work. I am hardly a professional scientist; +I have been away too long."</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"It is true," Professor Lightning +said sadly. "Never mind; I've had +my one discovery—how much an accident, +no one may ever know. But I +neglected to widen the scope of what +I had done; I generalized too rapidly, +my boy." He took a deep breath. +"The method, the technique, is very +complex," he said. "But imagine it +this way: a man comes to New York. +He explores it. Later, when he goes +home, he is asked to draw a map of +it—and he can do so, because he has +the experience. He has the memory +of New York, locked in his +mind."</p> + +<p>Charley nodded. "What does that +have to do with me?" he said.</p> + +<p>"The cells ... the cells of the +body seem to have such a memory," +the professor said. "It is the basis of +my technique."</p> + +<p>Charley nodded. "O.K.," he said +"I don't care how it works, so long +as it— It does work, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>The professor shook his head. Very +slowly, he said: "Not for you, my +boy. Not for you." He paused. "You +see, you were born without arms. In +such a case the cellular memory does +not seem to exist—like a man who +has never been to New York. He +cannot draw the map. He has no +memory to begin with."</p> + +<p>The silence this time was a long +one.</p> + +<p>At last Charley said: "But somebody +could tell him. I mean about +New York, so he could draw the +map."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," the professor said. "We +are working on it. Some day—"</p> + +<p>"But not today," Charley said. "Is +that it?"</p> + +<p>"I ... I'm afraid so," the professor +said.</p> + +<p>Charley sat for a long time, thinking. +He pictured the carnival, and the +shrinking audiences. Could he explain +to them why he couldn't get +arms? Would any audience stop to +listen and digest the truth? Charley +thought of the armless man in the +Flea Museum, and decided slowly +that no explanation would be good +enough. People didn't stop to make +small distinctions. Not in a sideshow. +Not in a carnival.</p> + +<p>No.</p> + +<p>There was only one thing he could +do; he saw that clearly. But it took +him a long time to find the right +words. At last he had them.</p> + +<p>"Professor," he said, "suppose I go +right back to being a sideshow exhibit—but +with a limited audience."</p> + +<p>Professor Lightning looked puzzled. +"What do you mean?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Well," Charley said, carefully +and with a sudden, surprising feeling +of hope, "you don't happen to need a +new guinea pig, do you?"</p> + +<p class="theend">THE END</p> + +<div class="trans1"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b><br /> +This etext was produced from <i>Astounding Science Fiction</i> May +1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Charley de Milo, by +Laurence Mark Janifer AKA Larry M. Harris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHARLEY DE MILO *** + +***** This file should be named 23889-h.htm or 23889-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/8/8/23889/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Bruce Albrecht, Stephen Blundell +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/23889-h/images/001.png b/23889-h/images/001.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..72f6f33 --- /dev/null +++ b/23889-h/images/001.png diff --git a/23889-h/images/002.png b/23889-h/images/002.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c69e566 --- /dev/null +++ b/23889-h/images/002.png diff --git a/23889-h/images/003.png b/23889-h/images/003.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0241777 --- /dev/null +++ b/23889-h/images/003.png diff --git a/23889-h/images/004.png b/23889-h/images/004.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4a0321d --- /dev/null +++ b/23889-h/images/004.png |
