Page 38

By Jack Joseph Smith

cluttering up the kitchen. My father was still rather new at this kind of runing around, but he enjoyed it because he was an entertainer from the old school, who could warm a tied up heart with his innocense. He would take his big business friends, who knew about the innocense, just like the big farmer down the road, and walk them to his new found neighbors. He was the new distributer who showed great premise living in a world Wurlitzer people placed around him. Not that he didn't belo ng; there was nothing to be sad about when your farm dreams of the depression were all around you. Anyway taking his business people across the room was but a moment, but going down the road to bring the big farmer back to meet his parents would have been a procedure that took many steps with thought on the way. Everything was being taken away from me and I could feel it passing thro ugh their hands in bright colored toys. After awhile the meaning or feeling of the day became very confused and I asked my mother if I could go out and play. She said no because I had my Christmas outfit on and in any event the weather was getting darker. The night was begining before the sun fell, and my father turned on the lights of the inside and outside Christmas trees and an orangeness filled the room and thro ugh the window pains I could see its reflection on the snow. Through the day people had come and gone and now most of the people had went and none were coming. Uncle Jackie had been there most of the day and in his leaving was reminding me on the technique used in knocking a monsterous Joe Polooka blown up bag to the floor and to catch it again on its way up with a good right cross. Keep your thumb outside your hands, he would say. And don't fold your arms when I am talking to you, that's for sissies. So I would

Original Scan

Page 38

AI Interpretation

GPT

The father is seen as an old-style entertainer and new Wurlitzer distributor carrying business people across the room, while the child feels Christmas slipping away into adult hands, lights, darkness, and Uncle Jackie's boxing lesson.

Work, class movement, and performance all collapse into one figure here, so the father is both salesman and warmth-maker even while the child experiences the day as something being taken from him. Uncle Jackie's instruction on thumbs, fists, and folded arms gives the holiday evening a hard masculine aftertaste.

Claude

The narrator describes his father as 'an entertainer from the old school, who could warm a tied up heart with his innocense', the new Wurlitzer 'distributer' walking business friends across the room, while the boy feels 'Everything was being taken away from me' through their hands in bright colored toys. As night comes, the tree lights fill the room with 'an orangeness' reflected on the snow, and Uncle Jackie leaves with a boxing lesson: 'Keep your thumb outside your hands' and don't fold your arms, 'that's for sissies.'

The father is both salesman and warm performer, and the page links his success to farm dreams of the depression now surrounded by new wealth. The child's sense of loss runs under the holiday glow, making the gifts feel like things passing away from him. Uncle Jackie's lesson closes the day with a hard lesson in masculine toughness.