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Show BROADWAY AND MAIN STREET l'nov-lt-AII Louie Comes Up Willi a Good Suggestion By BILLY ROSE Did anyone ever tell you the story of Know-It-All-Louie, the East Side tough guy who thought he knew everything about everything? Well, it's been told, retold and mistold in the coffeehouses coffee-houses of Allen Street for as long as I can remember, and today, in the interests of folklore and folderol, I'd like to pass it along . . . As old-timers tell it, Louie had achieved quite a reputation as a know-it-all by the time he was kicked out of P.S. 20 after spending three years in the seventh grade. And before he had worn out his first pair of bellbottoms, this reputation had carried over into the poolrooms of the section where he seldom played but never missed a chance to criticize those who did. On the rare occasions when he did play, he always had a handy excuse for his ineptness the cushions were too their driving. NICK THE CARP turned State's evidence and settled for 20-to-life, and Louie might have done the same but he insisted he could win an acquittal. ac-quittal. "I know da law," he said. "I wuzzen atta scene a da crime, I wuzza block away. And when 1 get inna witness chair, I'll tell "em a t'ing or two." Well, as it turned out, the know-it-all told 'em so many things that the judge sentenced him to the electric elec-tric chair. "I shoulda been my own mout'piece," said Louie. "Dat stupe offa lawyer couldn hardly talk no English." would be nice to chronicle that Know-It-All-Louis reformed during the last mournful mile, but I wouldn't be sticking to the coffeehouse facts. Actually be lectured the warden on how to run a prison, complained because the cook hadn't rubbed his last steak with garlic, and when his head and calves were being shaved he even advised the barber bar-ber on how to angle the razor. Finally Louie was led into the little room with the big chair and strapped in but he wasn't through yet. When the executioner threw the switch all that happened was a cracking flash from the fuse box. "Da fuse ain't big enough ta carry da load," advised Louie from under his helmet. "Ya need a bigga one." A few minutes later he was very dead. Know-It-Ail Louie had finally come up with a suggestion that worked. When he outlined the job to Louie he said, "Remember, no guns. Da watchman izza ol' guy and I can handle him easy. I ain't lookin' fer no more trouble than I hafta." Louie, of course, had his. own ideas on proper stick-up procedure proce-dure and lost no time in passing on his expert opinion to one of Nick's henchmen. "Bella pack rod jus" in case," he advised. . "Suppose a ol' guy spots ya an" starts blastin'?" The night of the job Louie parked the car down the block a bit and began thinking about how he'd spend his share of the loot, but within a matter of minutes min-utes there were shots and Nick and the boys came running back. "Ya dummox," said Nick to the henchmen who had taken Louie's advice. "Ya put three slugs in da ol' man an' now we're in plennya trouble. Drive slow, Louie, in case any cops is aroun'." "Dere ain't no cops aroun' here dis time a night," said the know-it-all, passing through a red light. Suddenly a prowl car ' scooted around a corner and forced them to the curb, adn the cops had the bracelets on the thieves before Louie even had a chance to criticize last, 1 n e oau BUly, Kose weren't true, etc., and so on. I LOUIE'S OMNISCIENCE was, if I anything, even greater when it came to matters mechanical. Any time he saw a fellow tinkering with his car, it was only a matter of seconds before the know-it-all's head was right under the- hood with the owner's, and if the guy took his advice he usually wound up with a face full of soot and a triple repair re-pair bill. 1 Understandably, the loud-mouth I got to be known around the East Side as Know-It-All Louie, and just as understandably his brassiness finally attracted the attention of a local hoodlum known as Nick the Carp who, at the time, was planning to burgle a wholesale furrier and needed a nervy kid to drive the getaway get-away car. |