GOD IS MY t
?, CO-PILOT
* Col. Robert L.Scott ?wu.ruusi
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ssrsd Ms Ufs. Bs mi gsss to tor kslld
toi seato modsl pluss sad alas a Bop
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Sm sals ks ton Ms Irst plaae tor PS.
Ms fees to R. McPksrsoa sad sallsts la
Ms rsfular army as a prlvato. Wlaalas
a Wsst Point competttlTS sua ks Is
admUtod. aad la tke sammsr sI lis after
kslac (Tsdaatod and csnunlsstoaed as a
snal Hssteaaat sf tafsatrp ks roes u
Bsrsps. wMck ks tours am a motsrcyels.
?s Small? arrives at Baadolpk Field,
?anas. This Is It.
CHAPTER m
Though I had flown before In the
prehistoric crates of the past, this
fact had nothing to do with wheth
er or not I would get through the
course. On the side against me
was the fact that during my un
supervised flying I had doubtless de
veloped many faults that were not
for the Army pilot to be proud of.
In a case like mine, some pilots
think they know it all; therefore
there is nothing to learn. Others
make such an effort to please their
tastructors that this very eagerness
works against them as their own
worst enemy?the result of tense
ness.
My case was more of this last
?rder. I knew I could fly the ship
but I tried to carry out my instruc
tor's orders even before he gave
them. I listened almost spellbound
through our oral communications
system in that primary trainer?that
speaking-tube which we called a
"gosport" and which at best was
hard to understand over the rattle
?f that Wright Whirlwind engine.
1 used to try to read his mind, exe
cute his every little whim. X even
tried to outguess Lieutenant Lan
don and have the stick and rudder
moving in the right direction be
fore he could get the orders out of
his mouth.
Now thereby hangs a tale. I was
not only trying to look in his rear
view mirror and actually read his
lips when I couldn't hear through
the gosport, but was diligently look
ing about the sky for other hare
brained student pilots. He must have
realized my eagerness, for he gave
me every break?and for the many
boners I pulled I needed lots of
breaks.
One day, at a bare four-hundred
feet altitude, I thought I heard the
instructor say, "Okay, Scott, put it
in a dive." I peered around first and
then at the nearby ground, for it
looked very low to be going into a
dive. Then like a flash I thought I
understood: Why, he's trying to see
if I'm ground-shy?I'll show him I'm
not.
With my teeth clenched and prob
ably with my eyes closed, I pushed
that PT-3 into a vertical dive at
point-blank altitude. Just as the
cotton fields down below seemed
about to come right into my lap I
felt Ted Landon grab the controls
and saw him hastily point to his
head with the sign that he was "tak
ing over." We came out just over
the mesquite trees, and he roughly
slipped the ship Into a bumpy land
ing in a cotton field. Then, while
I was trying to add things up and
realizing already that I had tied it
up again, I saw Ted very methodi
cally raise his goggles and with
great deliberation climb out of the
front cockpit. He glared at me but
said sweetly enough:
"Scott, what in the g? d? hell
?re you trying to do?what was that
maneuver? I said glide?G-L-I-D-E.
Don't you at least know what a
normal glide is in all this time?
Weakly I said, "Sir, I thought you
said a dive." I could see Ted fight
for control; then he told me the
next time I had him at an altitude
so low, not to attempt to think but
jost try to keep the ship straight
and level.
On another day, after about two
weeks of instruction, we had been
making only take-offs and landings,
and I knew the time was approach
ing when I would solo. As usual,
that realization made me more and
more tense as the end of the period
neared. On the take-offs I'd tense
up and forget all about holding the
nose straight, and on the landings
Td jerk back on the stick instead of
sasing it slowly back into the ap
proach to landing stall. All I could
do was day-dream about: Here we
are, Scott, just about to take over
and prove to the world that we can
do all of this by ourselves.
Around the field in traffic I couldn't
hold the correct altitude, and my in
structor was cussing a blue streak.
He'd yell about my having graduat
ed from West Point and say that he
knew I was supposed to have some
brains but he hadn't been able to
find them. After each bumpy land
ing he'd look around at me and hold
his nose?that was symbolic enough
for me. I finally bounced into an
other landing that nearly jarred his
teeth out. Then, as usual, he
showed what a prince of a fellow he
was, and showed me that an instruc
tor had to become accustomed to
students' making mistakes?knowl
edge which stood me in good stead
years later when I became an in
structor.
Lieutenant Landon got out of the
front seat, taking his parachute with
him. and I knew the moment of mo
menta had come. As he leaned over
my cockpit and reached inside the
ship for the Form One, the time
book always carried in Army ships,
I saw only his hand and thought he
was offering to shake hands with
me. So I grabbed the hand and
shook it. He just grinned and
growled:
"With landings like those I can
do you very little good, and I'll be
damned if I'm going to let you kill
me. Do you think you can take this
thing around the field all by your
self and get it back downT"
"Yes, Sir," I yeUed.
"Then take it around and make
a landing as close to me as you
can."
I had never felt so good. Taxying
out I could see the world only in a
rosy light. My head was really
whirling. Pointing the ship into the
wind, I over-controlled into a nor
mal student takeoff and was in
the air. Honestly, the living of this
life was wonderful?here I was an
actual Army Pilot with my own ship,
and up here free from the shackles
of the earth. I envied no one. Cir
cling in traffic I'd "get my head in
the clouds" and gain or lose altitude
but that didn't matter. I was solo
ing.
Then, at the fourth leg of my
traffic pattern, I began my glide in
towards Lieutenant Landon. By the
gods he had said, "Land as close
to me as you can," and I was surely
going to make that ship stop right
by him?I wouldn't have my in
structor being ashamed of his stu
dent. Even before I got to the mo
ment to level off, I could see that I
would land right on top of him. But
Gen. C. L. Chennault, who was
Colonel Scott's superior in Burma
and China.
the Lieutenant was running, throw
ing his parachute away just to get
clear of a student who had really
taken him literally.
Anyway, I missed him and
plunked the ship into the ground aft
er levelling off too high. Well, I
held it straight and there was no
ground - loop. As it stoppdd I
breathed again, and I could feel
the smile that cracked my face. A
pilot! I had landed the ship and
it was actually in one piece!
Looking back over my shoulder I
saw Lieutenant Landon. He was
just standing there about half a
mile away. Then I made another
mistake. He raised his hands and
I thought he waved me in?I didn't
know until the next day that he had
been shaking his fist at me for trying
to land right on him.
So I taxied in, never giving a
thought to how my instructor was
going to get in with his chute?you
see, Randolph is a big field and I
had left him more than a mile
from our hangar. I had parked the
plane and was in and beginning to
dress when I began to realize what
I had done. Looking out the win
dow I could see him trudging across
the hot soil of Texas, in the sun,
with ships landing all around him.
My Lord, I had tied it up again!
I tried to get my feet back into my
flying-suit, tripped and fell, got up
and ran out of the hangar door. I
guess I was going to take the ship
and taxy out and pick him up. But
I had lost again?the ship was being
taken from the line by the next stu
dent. I just stood there with sink
ing heart as he came up. But he
didn't even look my way, except to
say, "It's kinda hot out there." Then
he just glared and threw his chute
in his locker.
Well, I nearly worried myself to
death that night. I knew he'd more
than likely tell me after the next
day's ride that I was the damnedest
student he'd ever seen, and that I
didn't have a prayer of making a
pilot. But next day he didn't say
a word. All day I started to go
over and tell him how sorry I was.
but I guess I didn't have the nerve.
During my flying training, I had
girl trouble, too. You would no
doubt call it "trouble," but I knew it
was the real thing. I had a Chevro
let then, and every week-end I just
had to see my girl, even if she did
live over thirteen hundred miles
away in Georgia. To get to see her,
I would drive that thirteen-hundred
odd miles to her college or her
home in Fort Valley, spend any
where from ten minutes to two hours
with her, then jump back in the
car and drive madly for Texas and
the Monday morning flying period.
I always had to delay my start
until after Saturday morning inspec
tion. That meant that I had to av
erage just about fifty-four miles aa
hour, even counting the time I saw
the girl, in the forty-seven hours
that I had from after inspection on
Saturday to flying time at eight
o'clock Monday mornings I
Week-end after week-end I drove
madly across the South from the
middle of Texas to the middle of
Georgia. On one of these cross-coun
try dashes, I weakened and was
fool enough to ask the Commandant
of Student Officers if I could go to
Atlanta. I can still see and hear
Capt. Aubrey Strickland saying, "At
lanta what?" And me meekly re
plying, "Atlanta, Georgia, Sir." Ha
just said, "Hell, no." and I turned
and walked from his office with the
good intention of obeying the order.
But within the hour I had weak
ened. I filled my rumble-seat tank,
which held fifty-five gallons of fuel,
and was off to see her for the short
time available. (Yes, she was, and
still is some girl.) On the return
trip I burned out two bearings near
Patterson, Louisiana. Jimmy We
dell, one of the well-known speed
flyers, helped me to get it fixed after
I explained the predicament I was
in. But even with five of us work
ing on the number one and number
six bearings of the Chevy, I was
twelve hours late getting back to
Randolph Field.
As I walked into the bachelor offi
cers' quarters that I shared with
Bob Terrill, 1 expected any minute
to bear the sad news. But I was
too afraid to ask for details, so I
just waited for Bob to say, "You are
to report to the General tomorrow
for court martial for A.W.O.L. in
violation of specific Instructions."
Finally he put down his letter writ
ing, looked at me almost in dis
gust, and broke out:
"Scott, you are the damned luck
iest man that ever lived I You didn't
get reported today. Nol This is the
first time in the history of Randolph
Field that it's been too cold to fly.
And it wasn't only too cold to fly,
I U a-- " *
it km iuo coia to nave ground I
school, because the heating system
had failed. We haven't flown today,
we haven't been to ground school.
So they don't even know that you've
been over there to see that girl."
In all of these trips to see my
girl over in Georgia, I drove 84,000 j
miles. I wore out two cars?and
you'll probably agree that her fa
ther had full right to say to her:
"Why don't you go on and marry
him? It'll be far cheaper than his
driving over here every week-end."
When I had finished Primary and
Basic training at Randolph, I al
most let down my hair and wept,
though, on the day that Comman
dant of Student Officers called over
and said that now I could have
permission to go to Georgia, to see
my girl. I thanked him and went.
? ? ?
Well, when graduation came at
Kelly and I had those wings pinned
on my chest, I had the wonderful
feeling that I had gone a little way
towards the goal I wanted. I was
at last an Army pilot. Never did
the world seem so good. And then
out of a clear sky came orders for
me to go to duty in Hawaii. That
was pretty bad because I wanted to
get married before I went out of the
country, and as yet the girl hadn't
gotten her degree from college.
Probably if I had gone to Hawaii,
I would have figured out some way
to have flown a P-12 back over ev
ery week?but I didn't have to do it
after all.
The Chief of the Air Corps came
down a few days later and I waited
until he had had lunch in the Offi
cers' Mess. Then I walked over
and said, "General, can I ask you
a question?" "Sure, sit down," he
said, and I told him the whole story
?and I made it like this: "General,
I know that I'm supposed to go
where I'm sent because I'm in the
Army, but I've got a girl over in
Georgia, and I think I can do a
lot better job wherever you send me
if you can give me time to talk her
into marrying me." He didn't ap
pear to be very impressed at first,
but he took my name and serial
number, and two or three days lat
er, when he got back to Washington,
I was ordered to Mitchel Field, N. Y.
As I drove my car towards my
first tactical assignment I kept
reaching up to feel my silver wings
on my chest?I wanted to prove that
it wasn't a dream. This was what
I had been working for since 1920.
Now I was actually riding towards
the glory of tactical Army aviation.
I recall that I had just about
completed the trip to Long Island,
when something happened that will
keep me remembering the fall of
1933.
Just |>efore I reached the Holland
Tunnel, I wjs suddenly forced to the
curb by three cars all bristling with
sawed-off shotguns and Tommy
guns. I Jumped out pretty mad, but
saw that many guns were covering
me and that it was the police.
They looked at my papers, but said
anyone could have mimeographed
orders. They searched the car and
me took down the Texas license
number, and even copied the engine
number: All the time I tried to talk
with the flashlights in my eyes,
fro BE COWllWUfcP)
IMPROVED lJI
UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL
Sunday i
chool Lesson
By HAROLD L LUMZXIU1ST. D. D.
Of Tbm Moody Bfbto Institute of Chicago.
Released by Western Newspaper Union.
Lesson (or November 26
. Lm aib|MU and Scripture teste se
lected end coprrlsbted by International
Council | to Reupioue Education; ueod to
THE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF
INDUSTRY
LESSON TEXT?Luke ? Thoesa
lonlans 3; 10-IX
GOLDEN TEXT?Lot him that Mala steal
no more: but rather let him labor, wortdns
with his hands lbs thins that Is (nod. that ha
may hare to ftv* to him that atedeth.?
Epbeslana ' ;to.
Work Is a blessing, and the proper
attitude toward it is an important
part of thn life of a Christian. Indus
try has found its best and most de
pendable workers among those who
believe in Christ It has also coma
to realize that the atrengthening of
the faith of its workers makes them
better workmen; hence we see all
over the land the interesting devel
opment of chaplains in industrial
plants. That activity rightly planned
and properly conducted can be of
great value to both the individual
and to industry.
Our lesson rightly deals with the
individual. Christianity is a person
al matter, a life rather than a the
ory. It deals with the man rather
than the mass.
I. We Are Accountable for Oppor
tunity (Luke 19:19).
The king in this parable is Christ,
who has how gone away, to return
when God is ready for Him to set up
His kingdom on earth. In the mean
time His servants have been given
that which they should be using for
Him.
Two thfaiga stand out in this story.
First, the fact that Jesus is coming
?gain. There are many scoffers who
deny that blessed truth (II Pet. 3:3,
4). There are many believers to
whom the promise has become but
a formal truth in a confession of
faith or ? creed. But the failure of
men to recognize truth and their un
willingness to hold it precious, do
not alter the fact. Jesus is coming
again!
nrv._ u. a. ?m
??c? ?. ???-. "? jrr "VZ
many things to accomplish, but
SmM. U our second fact-one of
the most important Isjhat there
shall be an accounting with His to
lowers (who are supposed to be His
servants), regarding the lUe they
have lived. What will your answer
"."ad mine be in that day?'It.depend,
on what we are and what we a
pears in the following verses, where
we learn that:
W. Are toBeRewsrded for
Faithfulness (Luke l9-18"28*;
When believers stand m the pres
ence of Christ to ^swer for the
deeds done in the flesh (our sins
were judged at Calvary!), it will
not be a question of what church
you belong to, or what family name
vou bear, or how much money you
have amassed. No, the only
tion asked will be, "Have you been
faithful in trading with the _gifts. th
abilities and the opportunities which
God has given you?"
Note that there are three d'fferent
judgments here, but aU <in the one
ground of faithfulness.
represents those who with all diu
eence and seal seek to grow spiritu
ally and to serve the Lord with glad
abandon. All that they have and
are they give to Him for His glory
and for the winning of others to
Him. They will be
the Lord and great will be their
The second man, with equal op
portunity. did accomplish something,
but not too much. He reP""?|
those who do want to serve the Lord
STwlS no special rea^ great
measure of sacrificial
"average" (what an unfortu
nate standard!) Christians.
The Lord is fair. He does not de
prive them of their iwertL Ini the
measure that they have been falto
Z, they too shall find Joyous sendee
for Him. But observe that there is
no special word of c?7>,ne"d*^
in thiTcase, and there Is a limited
reward.
The third man represents those
who profess to be in fear of God
He seems to demand to mud.of
them and they are not ready to give
it After all, they say, we want to
Ai-itnv life Why should the lx>rd ex
pert ao much of us? Not only do ;
5ney lose all reward but the Lord (
must take away even that which He ,
Commanded to Work !
^mt^'that God put Adam ,
in the garden of Eden to'care for It. j
work has been the lot of all ,
mankind?yes, and his honor. J*?? 1
is no pla.-e in the economy of God ,
for the rr an or woman who la able
to work l?it is not willing to do so^ ,
"If any 'vill not work, neither let ,
him eat" (v. I?)
Anoarently there were some in :
,. -i Thessalonica who per- i
vert^ u" teaching of the Lord's I
rttu?. Who said that if Jesus were
^S^tely around. The point is
that since Jesus may come at any
rr". should aU be doing our ut
that we may ?Und I
with Joy. and not with shame.
??? ??" " ~~~ " ""
Password
? ? ?
By STUART M. LONG
McClur* Newspaper Syndicate
Released by WNu
"ITALTI Who'i there?"
n The sentry'* cry, ringing out
in the still cold night, broke into
Laurs'* thoughts as she was hurry
ing home. How silly it was to have
planned a surprise visit to the ma
rine base without a telegram in ad
vance! And here was a silly guard
who would make her stop to giva a
password she did not know.
"I'm Laura Archer, Colonel Arch
er's daughter," she told the grim
faced leatherneck who was barring
her path with rifle at the ready.
"Advance and be recognized," he
ordered and, as Laura approached,
she saw that he was lean, tanned
and tall. She fumbled in her purse
for her Identification card, then real
ized that it was in her traveling bag
at the station.
"I'm sorry I haven't my I.D. card,
but I am Colonel Archer's daugh
ter . . ."
"Any other proof? Otherwise, you
don't move on," the guard broke in.
Laura knew she was wrong, but
she'wouldn't let a boot get away
with turning her from the post where
her father was commanding officer.
"You just call the colonel," she
ordered curtly.
"Look, lady, don't you know any
one less than the Skipper?" the
guard asked. "I can't be waking
him up at O-one-hundred to ask him
to come out here."
"If you don't, you'll be up for
office hours tomorrow," Laura
threatened.
"Corporal of the Guard, Number
Seven," the marina sang out and,
when the shouts for him had echoed
down the Una from sentry to sentry,
out of the shadows on the double
cam* the husky noncom.
"This lady says she's Colonel
Archer's daughter, Corporal, but she
has no identification," the sentry re
ported. "She threatened me with of
fice hours if I don't call the Skip
per."
"I wouldn't call him out in this
storm for another stripe," the cor
poral vowed. Turning to Laura he
asked, "Are you really Colonel Arch
er's daughter? I've been here seven
months and I've never seen you
around."
"I've been off to echool. Please
let me In," Laura pleaded.
An hour later, having been grilled
by the men on duty, a tired yet
fuming Laura was sent to her fa
ther's quarters, where she was ad
mitted on assurance from the sleepy
colonel that she really was his
daughter.
Next morning, when Laura came
tripping down to her father s car,
she found that square-Jawed, lean
and hated face behind the wheel.
"Where to. Miss Archer?" Private
Gillespie queried.
"My father will be out in a min
ute," she answered. "The colonel
will tell you where to drive."
Private Gillespie's neck reddened.
He offered weakly, "I'm sorry about
last night. Miss Archer, but you
know the General Orders."
She turned her upturned nose to
ward the parade ground and began
a close inspection of a platoon which
was drilling there. Private Gilles
pie watched in the mirror. ' Nice
looking platoon," he ventured. "That
D.I. was my bunkie in boot camp.
He sure does put them through,
doesn't he?" He continued his mono
logue, his warm drawl melting the
icicles from his listener. He told
her his name and about his ranch
back in Texas. Then he brought up
the sore subject again. "I said I
was sorry about last night. Miss
Archer," he began, but Just then
he had to spring out to open the
door for Colonel Archer. He was
ordered to drive to the parade
ground where the colonel was to in
spect the recruits completing basic
training that morning.
Laura decided to see the review
from the car.
Private Gillespie returned to the
front seat and resumed his watch.
"Today's pay day. Miss Archer, and
I have liberty tonight, will you have
dinner and go to a show with me?"
he suggested. "It would kind of
make up. . .
Just then the rear of a tank bang
ing along the drive halted the one
way conversation. From the pa
rade ground, a thousand frozen
faced recruits, waiting at attention,
saw the man in the turret swept to
the ground by a low-hanging nmb.
His left foot, straining unconscious
ly for a toehold, nudged the left
shoulder of the driver, who was
operating the massive iron monster
by signals. The tank swung to the
left, the guide lying unconscious in
the road.
The colonel's car leaped ahead,
its motor screaming, as Private Gil
lespie turned the key, touched the
?tarter and let out the clutch. It
pulled to one side and stopped as
the clanging tank roared past.
Colonel Archer and his aides ran
toward the car. "Are you all right,
Laura?" her father panted.
"Of course," she smiled, "because
your driver knows how to use a
rear-view mirror. Father, please ask
him to dine with us tonight."
Check Cleaner Bag
If your vacuum cleaner refuses
to pick up the dirt, check the cleaner
bag. It may need emptying When
you empty the bag, turn it wrong
tide out and brush it clean. Per
haps the nozzle or cleaner brush i?
Improperly adjusted, or It may be
a broken belt or the belt not re
volving.
'1
SEWING CIRCLE NEEDLECRAFT
Sailor Doll Everyone's Favorite
HERE'S fun! Get busy sewing
this sailor doll. He's the fa
vorite of young and old?everyone
who sees him wants to own him.
? ? ?
Needlework you'll hate to put down. Pat
tern 033 contains a transfer pattern for
doll and clothes; complete directions.
Due to en unusually large demand and!
current war conditions, slightly more time
is required In filling orders for a few eft
the most popular pattern numbers.
Send your order to:
Sewing Circle Needlecraft Dept.
SZ Eighth Are. New Yetfc
Enclose IS cents for Pattern
No
Name
AAArmmm
Til Take You Home Again,,
Kathleen'?To Germany.
Although frequently played on:
programs of Irish songs, "I'll
Take You Home Again, Kathleen"
has no Gaelic connection. It was
written about 70 years ago by the
American composer, Thomas
Westendorf, as a musical confir
mation of a promise made to hia
wife, Kathleen, that he would take
her back to visit her old home In
Germany.
A little skim milk rubbed over
leather chairs several times ?
year will keep the leather soft and
prevent cracking.
In order not to seoreh milk,
rinse the pan with water for sev
eral minutes before heating the
milk.
?o?
When sending a book through
the mails, cut the corners from
several heavy envelopes and place
over the four corners of the book
to protect them.
To clean under the piano,
place an old sock moistened with
polish over a yardstick.
?e?
Add salt to the water in which
eggs are to be cooked. This makes
the shells more brittle and easier
to remove.
?o?
If there Is a suggestion of rust
on your refrigerator shelves,
wash them with a mild scouring
powder and hot water, dry well
with a soft clean cloth, and apply
a thin coating of hot melted paraf
fln.
?o?
If candles are soiled, rub them
with a cloth dipped in alcohol.
Or they may be rubbed with lard
or other fats.
Wax your book shelves. This
will permit books to slide in and
out easier and cause less wear on
them.
Jones Found There Were
Not Enough Comers-In!
Jones decided to enter business,
and so he bought an establishment
from an agent.
After some months he failed,
and, meeting the agent some time
later, he said: "Do you remember
selling me a business a few
months ago?"
"Yes," replied the agent. "But
what's the trouble? Isn't it as I
represented it to be?"
"Oh. yes," said the other. "You
said it was in a busy locality
where there were plenty of pass
ers-by."
"Well!" queried the agent.
"What's wrong with that?"
"There were too many passers
by."
HEA^TJBmiN
. WW?Hill >? ll.il ,.l
Deadly flamethrowers tit blaring Hit rood
to Victory I Etch ot then efficient weapons
depends upon dry bttterits to sparS the
name for instant action. The batteries you
do without mean mora fire power for front
lint fifhtini man. Un your available bat
teries sparingly... keep them cool and dry?
rest them as often as possible. For Fran
Battery Hints ?Write Dept. U-4, Burgess
Bettary Company, Fraeport, Illinois.
At feesf owe eafre for tho SIXTH I
BURGESS
BATTERIES
m THE NATION'S SERVICE
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HOilYWOOO SHEET MUSIC PUSUSMtt R
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Talented Writers of now motoric! submit II
your oriomoi poems ond songs now FOt H
OUI Ftfl EXAMINATION
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? A liberol offer to publish In 2 color R
SHEET MUSIC reodyfor sole.
Jl ? A criticism of your work ond its return, H
H not occepted ot no cost to you. II
KCMEMMI - NO OftlKUTION. We will I
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decision on your sonp or poem pronmrtil 11
Send Tour Original Milnld NOW1 0
MOtOra fUftllSMINO COMPANY H
PmbJubon of /bom maoit for toio. ?
Merdyke iolidbig. 6607 Sweet Issliueri J
Hollywood Si CoUfarnlo
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Coach Draco, Black or Menthol, on Kill oo
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SMITH BROS. COUGH MOPS
BLACK OK smrwoi?5#^ I