Judge — November 9, 1918 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

“Reatry,” Sain tie Younc Woman, “I Can’t Waste Any More Time Witn You.” Tactical Advances By J. A. Watpron Illustration by Lawrence Fetrows HE drive for.Red Cross millions wason. At bazaars noted actresses were bartering kisses for subscriptions, and society women who usually wear exclusive airs relaxed and were colloquially gracious to common persons whose appearance suggested that they had money which might- be arrived at through familiar initiative. On the streets girls of varying social circles by their arts made stingy men generous and generous men spendthrifts for the moment. On Fifth Avenue, where prospects always swarm, young women figuratively went afield. They induced men in motors to tarry for chats that meant money, although this is the most difficult of soliciting stunts unless the machines be caught stationary at the curb. A man in a moving car may logically ignore any challenge unless a traffic officer has something to say. One young woman so charming that her aura reached at least to the center of the highway had but to fix her eyes upon the average motorist to confuse immediate traffic, and the curb where she had taken her position was almost steadily occupied by one machine or another whose owner was “giving up.” Some caught without currency wrote checks upon the spot. This young woman clinched her sales quickly and sent her clients on their ways until she interested one young man in a Rolls-Royce. He was not so casy to dismiss. She had used her usual method with him, but he had written no check, nor had he depleted an impressive roll of new bills of high denomination that he had drawn from his pocket as a device to prolong conversation. “Really,” said the young woman, “I can’t waste any more time with you. I might have had a lot of money from others while you have been delaying me.” The young man peeled off a fifty-dollar bill. “This for the Red Cross if you will give me your name.” She frowned and for a moment hesitated. “You are rude! Yet the Red Cross needs the money.” She took the bill before she added: “My name is Margaret.” “But you're unfair! I thought I was paying fc your full pame. Here’s another fifty for the rest of i “Margaret Calvert.” “Are you married?” “Really, I can’t go into personal details. You must excuse me.”? She showed impatience, and her eyes roved as though in search of another prospect. “Here’s a hundred for an answer, whether it be ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”” He held out another bill. She took the bill. “I am not married.” “Well, are you engaged to marry?” “Why, this is nothing short of impudence!” She turned on her heel. “Wait, Miss Calvert, please!” he called. “Here is another hundred if you will truly answer me that ques- tion.” comicbooks.com