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The Blue Bonnet, Vol. 3, No. 8, 1940-07-15
Page 4
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Weiler, F. B., editor; Morrison, J., sports editor; Simmons, E. C., assistant editor. The Blue Bonnet, Vol. 3, No. 8, 1940-07-15 - Page 4. July 15, 1940. Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries. University of Houston Digital Library. Web. June 18, 2021. https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/p15195coll22/item/1125/show/1124.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

Weiler, F. B., editor; Morrison, J., sports editor; Simmons, E. C., assistant editor. (July 15, 1940). The Blue Bonnet, Vol. 3, No. 8, 1940-07-15 - Page 4. USS Houston Blue Bonnet Newsletters. Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries. Retrieved from https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/p15195coll22/item/1125/show/1124

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

Weiler, F. B., editor; Morrison, J., sports editor; Simmons, E. C., assistant editor, The Blue Bonnet, Vol. 3, No. 8, 1940-07-15 - Page 4, July 15, 1940, USS Houston Blue Bonnet Newsletters, Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries, accessed June 18, 2021, https://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/p15195coll22/item/1125/show/1124.

Disclaimer: This is a general citation for reference purposes. Please consult the most recent edition of your style manual for the proper formatting of the type of source you are citing. If the date given in the citation does not match the date on the digital item, use the more accurate date below the digital item.

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Title The Blue Bonnet, Vol. 3, No. 8, 1940-07-15
Creator (Local)
  • Weiler, F. B., editor
  • Morrison, J., sports editor
  • Simmons, E. C., assistant editor
Contributor (Local)
  • Ridge, W. C., cartoonist
  • Tinkle, J. W., circulation
  • Razlaff, T. B., printer
Publisher USS Houston (CA-30), U.S. Navy;
Place of Creation (Local)
  • At Sea, Hawaiian Area
Date July 15, 1940
Subject.Name (LCNAF)
  • Houston (Cruiser : CA-30)
Genre (AAT)
  • newsletters
  • periodicals
Language English
Type (DCMI)
  • Text
Original Item Location ID 1981-001, Box 12, Folder 6
Original Collection Cruiser Houston Collection
Digital Collection USS Houston Blue Bonnet Newsletters
Digital Collection URL http://digital.lib.uh.edu/collection/p15195coll22
Repository Special Collections, University of Houston Libraries
Repository URL http://info.lib.uh.edu/about/campus-libraries-collections/special-collections
Use and Reproduction This item is in the public domain and may be used freely.
Item Description
Title Page 4
Format (IMT)
  • application/pdf
File Name _0730_L.pdf
Transcript Page Four Interrupted Routine ( Continued from Page 1) Cup.' After which they took in the stage play at Bandy's; winding up at the inevitable square dance held in the big parlor of the Deed's ranch house. At thought of the ' Cup', old Al gave a grunt of mingled pleasure and contentment. Ummm ... Baked Ham! He could almost smell it now, he was that hungry. It had long been his favorite, as only Sam, proprietor of the ' Cup' could prepare it. And Mar­tha's too. As Al approached the end of the alley, he suddenly became aware that he was not alone. In fact, he had the information pressed upon him in the form of a cold gun muzzle held gent­ly, but none the less firmly, on the back of his neck. " O. K., Pop. Now you know. Get in your jaloppy, sit steady, do as you're told, and nothin's gonna happen to you." The voice was steady, cool, com­manding. " One wrong move, and Molly here'll start barking. And when she barks, she bites! Turn left!" Ordinarily at this point, Al would have turned to the right, toward home and Martha. But he swung onto the street, and drew up at the boulevard stop. Stealing a glance in the rear view mirror, he could make out the forms of three men in the back seat. " Turn down the main drag, Pop," the same voice again, the man seated directly behind AI, " This buggy is well known, and I want it seen,- ­plenty." The curtain was down over the door on his side of the car, and Al meekly nodded to all who waved. It irked him to see them going about their business so apparently unconcerned. But then, how could they possibly know that anything was wrong? How could he... His thoughts were diverted then; his attention drawn to the men in the rear. They seemed to be arguing, motioning, and mumbling indistinctly. Al was rapidly becoming really worried. What was this all about? Where did he come in? Was he to be involved in a hold up? A gang fight? Perhaps he was being taken for a ride. In the middle of the next block, the : nan who was apparently the leader, spoke again. " Pop, when you get to the ' Second Cup', if there's a green sedan parked there, you drive us in and park as near it as possible. And out of the light, too, if you can. If the sedan's .1Ot there, just drive on past." Upon drawing close to the ' Cup', Al anxiously looked for a green sedan. Yes, there it was. The men in back had spotted it too, for as though its presence was a signal, they started L commotion and Al heard the clat­ter of metal on metal. He drew to a stop directly abreast the green sedan. " Say, this is perfect, Pop. You're an ace in the hole." The speaker was apparently enthused. " Now you go on in, and if you know what's good for you, no slip- ups. You're the camouflage. Understand, Pop?" As Al shakily slid to a stool at the counter, he noticed two men who seemed to be dividing their attention between watching him, and out front. The two men, obviously too nervous to eat, laid a bill on the counter, and hurried out. Though he hardly dared, Al was overcome with an urge to watch them. A shot split the night! Al whirled to look through the big plate glass win­dow. The doors of his car were open, as were those of the ajoining green sedan. Two men were standing, one on each side of the sedan, with drawn gUItS in their hands. Another man was running, but at the edge of the lighted clearance he stopped to bend over another man on the ground. The sedan moved up then, and the limp form was helped in. Al recognized him as one of the men who was in the ' Cup.' Doors slammed, and the green sedan sped into the night. Bedlam reigned in old AI's wake. Some unexplainable desire overcame him, perhaps something of the dra­matic. He raved, ranted, shouted, and in every manner conceivable register­ed displeasure. He swore he'd been threatened, abused, held- up, knocked down, and assulted no end by the men just departed. He phoned the Sheriff, yelling loud and long, enlarg­ing on his story as he warmed up. Quickly a crowd gathered, and only when he was nearly exhausted, and practically hoarse, did Al go home. Martha met him at the door, and immediately launched into scolding him in no uncertain terms. Why, this was Saturday night, and . Al broke in with, " You're mad? THE BLUE BONNET How do you suppose I feel?" Then Al retold his tale, beautifully glossed by now. The telephone ring punctuat­ed his last sentence. . Reaching out, Al took the receiver, and as he listened an awed expression bordering on sheepishness came over his face. Mar­tha, standing close by, could plainly hear. Al gasped a few times, and with a muffled, " Thanks Sheriff," hung up. " Well, there it is," he panted. " and ME a figure in this town. Do you think I can ever live this down? Can I ever explain? I'll be as uncomfort­able in this town from now on as a tramp in a bathtub. Know what the Sheriff said? The men in the ' Cup' were public enemies numbers one and two. Well, I had that much pretty well figured out. So what? So this is the last load of hay. Me, taken in lock, stock, and barrel, hook, line and sink­er, fur, fuzz, and feathers; how was I to know the men in my car were G- men?" !!! ..... Great Moments in History! During the famous engagement be­tween ships of the Royal and Amer­ican Navies, in which John Paul Jones and his ship were apparently doomed for the bottom, there was an event which has escaped history. The fight­ing had been terrific. Topmasts were aflame, both vessels grappled, and canvas was shredded; the decks were running red. Upon the British call for surrender, John Paul Jones bellow­ed his staggering reply, " We have not yet begun to fight!" One sweating marine in the foretop brushed his per­spiring brow with his tattered sleeve, punched the wounded marine next to him, " There's always someone that doesn't get the word," says he! ---._.. '..-.. N.- o- rfo- lk Seabag. CAVE SEDEM Beware of the deadly sitting habit, Or, if you sit, be like a rabbit, Who keepeth ever on the jump By springs concealed beneath his rump. A little ginger ' neath the tail Will oft for lack of brains avail; Eschew the dull and slothful Seat, And move about with willing feet 1 Man was not made to sit a- trance, And press, and press, and press his pants; • But rather, with an open mind, To circulate among his kind. And so, my son, avoid the snare Which lurks within a cushioned chair; To run like hell, it has been found, Both feet must be upon the ground. - Theodore F. MacManus.