Judge — April 19, 1913 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

i vi Six, thirty. . thirty-six, CHARMERS The Certain Feeling By WILLIAM SANFORD ‘AS BOSLEY entered, ‘the pretty girl at the typewriter was gazing devotedly at a solitaire which reposed on her finger. She did not look up until the door closed; then she glanced at the young man and said ‘Oh!’ in rather an absent tone. Bosley passed his hat nervously from one hand to the other. “IT am the new man,"’ he ventured finally. ‘‘The boss sent me to you.’” The pretty girl smiled demurely. ‘‘Oh, yes!’’ she replied. “You are to take my place,’’ and resumed her gaze on the solitaire, Bosley showed visible signs of embarrassment. hope'’—he stammered—‘‘that is, I did not know’’— “Oh, that’s all right,’’ replied the young lady cheerfully. “I'm not leaving on account of you. It’s on account of another young man—I'm going to marry him. You see, I’m the fourth young lady that has left this desk to get married—so the boss decided to hire a man."’ “T see,’? said Bosley, gradually regaining his composure. “The boss said I would be at the machine a great deal of the time. I love to write letters! You do an enormous business, I presume?” “I—er— POMPEY AN’ MASSAGE CREAM “ Don't envy a good digestion. Eat Pompeian and have one."’ The young lady looked up from the solitaire reluct- antly. She studied Bosley’s angelic countenance for a moment, and a gleam of pity fluttered into her hazel eyes; then she said, ‘‘Oh, yes, perfectly tremendous! As you probably know, swamp syrup cures bronchitis, rheumatism, constipation, insomnia, chilblains, and all kinds of fever; therefore, we sell millions of bottles.’” Bosley wrinkled his forehead and spoke in a brisk, businesslike tone, befitting a representative of this great firm. ‘‘I have heard as much,’’ he replied. “Yes, it must be wonderful—simply wonderful !"” Once more the young lady loosened her gaze from Bosley’s countenance and sought the solitaire. For a moment an odd little smile played around the corners of her dainty mouth; then she spoke. ‘Did you ever, I wonder’’—her tone was dreamily reminiscent “‘feel that you were another person, far away in some distant place, thinking thoughts that were not your own, doing deeds that you never did, saying things that you never said—in fact, another person entirely apart from yourself?” Bosley tried to conceal a shudder. “Crazy !’’ he thought. “That's why they are getting rid of her. The marriage idea is probably just a hal- lucination. The ring must be a souvenir of some old love affair that’s unbalanced her.” He edged to- ward the door, but chirped up bravely. “Why, no, I can’t say that I ever did,’’ he said. The young lady arose, put on her coat and hat, and, with one final look at the solitaire, drew on a neat-fitting pair of gloves. ‘Well, then,’ she said, in a crisp tone, ‘‘it’s up to you to get the feeling. This firm wants one thousand brand-new testimonials from every State—all new names and new towns, There's the typewriter; it’s up to you, kiddo. So long! I'm going to get married.”” Aid Needed She--I am going to order just about everything on the bill of fare. What are you going to call for? He—I think I'll call for help. “DOMINO SUGAR" Very sweet. “GID-HUP MOBILE!" comicbooks.com