The rest of the summer was routine, I assume, for no especially striking events
stand out in memory, unless this qualifies: Sonny and Billy Young were home from
vacation from the seminary, but they had moved from Fayette Street by this time and
were living ten or so miles out of the city. I visited them once, during August -
hayfever season - and spent such a miserable night reacting violently to my allergies
that I couldn’t wait to get back home.
Jim Murray, erstwhile card-playing buddy, had made new friends at LaSalle
Institute, so Jim and I no longer saw much of each other. So with the other Fayette
Street boys - Ernie, Penny, Leo and Bernard, mentioned earlier, plus two or three
from other neighborhoods - I played ball in the vacant lot opposite my house and
sometimes hitch-hiked to the Celanese plant’s swimming pool in the nearby
outskirts of town.
To tell the truth, I was not keen on playing ball and was generally relieved
when Grandma would appear on the front porch and call, Oh Billy, I need you to run
up to the store for me quick!
I spent a couple hours a week helping around the house, including cutting the
lawn and trimming the hedges, for which Grandma gave me fifty cents a week. I had
no regular allowance from Mother but she always managed to give me the small
amounts I needed for movies and such.
Out of the little pocket money I had, I was able to take up a new hobby:
Magic. Three or four years earlier, Daddy had piqued my interest with his trick called
“biting a string together" and one called “the chime in the glass." He even showed me
how to perform them, but enjoined me to keep the modus operandi (he used his full
vocabulary on me) to myself. So I expanded my repertoire by sending away for a ten-
cent New Book of Coin Tricks and one on card tricks; and for a certain number of
Camel cigarette labels, I acquired a book entitled Cigarette and Other Tricks
(Camel’s ad slogan at the time was: “It’s fun to be fooled—it’s more fun to know.")
Other advertisers offered magic paraphernalia for coupons - the Ball-in-the-Vase
trick, for one. I spent hours practicing manipulating cards and coins, called
“palming" and “making the pass." Now I knew what Daddy meant by “sleight of
hand." I’m afraid my proficiency in this skill didn’t advance far. However, I
eventually got a little act together and staged it in my grandparents’ unused garage
(one of their sons had earlier owned a car) for neighborhood kids’ pennies. One boy
had his mother hire me to perform at his birthday party. After a year or so, that hobby
died out. (Over the years I occasionally tried to entertain my children and
grandchildren with my old favorite tricks and I still enjoy “pulling one out of the hat"
when the occasion warrants.)
One thing I got into that summer soon became a pain: About every other day, one
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