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This is what happened to the man who fell for the Hard-to-Get Girl By ROBERT F. YOUNG M uch had Henry Cooper traveled in the realms of girls, and many goodly dolls and dishes seen. But when love passed him by for the fifth consecutive time and thumbed his cupid nose at him, he resolutely turned his back on the elusive paradise toward which he had yearned and striven so futilely and dedicated himself to a life of confirmed celibacy. He arrived at this momentous decision on his twenty-second birthday and he was still abiding by it when, several months later, he applied for work in the town of Ridgeville and accepted a job in the local brass foundry, running the hot-metal hoist for Furnace John Piwko. Henry was a little disconcerted by Furnace John. There was something rather awesome about him. He was in his late fifties, and he had a heat-withered complexion, a big blunt nose, burly shoulders and grapnellike hands. "This up," he said in a deep, rumbling voice, after the foundry superintendent had left them together. "This down." He emphasized the first statement with a yank on one of the hoist cables and the second with a yank on the other cable. Then, the fundamentals of the operation explain to his—if not Henry's—satisfaction, he rested his elbows on a packing box that functioned as a desk, lighted a cigarette |
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