Judge — June 25, 1921 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

Oper Draen by Pace Renry PPT Way Nor Stace Desx-Srace—rox Very Tireo Business Men? first), I failed to find my shoes. May on.y smiled and changed the subject to lobsters. I tried to crawl through the jungle barefoot, but the thorns bit me something shrill. All day I puttered about with the clams, while May, in her yellow evening gown and only three hairpins left, wandered away alone. Next morning—it was my trousers, my beloved trousers, who were gone! And bark, even when it is well tied on, is so prickly stiff! May was quite cheer- ful, now, She laughed, she sang. Where had those trousers gone? She couldn’t imagine. That day in the jungle she found a cocoanut tree. But she said cocoa- nuts were not good for little boys, espe- cially when near-sighted; and besides she wanted all the milk to make cold cream. Biscuits and clams would make my hair curl. Why didn’t I hide that revolver, those binoculars? Why didn’t I guard my safety razor? I suppose the clams had got on my nerves. May said she didn’t mind beards. She liked them, rather. The Skipper wore a red one. Anyway, she insisted on keeping the one cake of soap for herself; and when I tried to shave with a clam shell—oh, how it burned me! Of course I was too blind and barefoot to go far from the shore, and it was lone- some, talking to myself all day, even when I spoke French. But I know that after you had breathed that balmy tropical moonlight awhile you couldn't get the taste of Romance out of your tonsils, and it would make you hungry for a double life, and a good square kiss. But May never showed up till dinner- time. Where did she go? She always came back all scracche | up and with a lit- tle more of her yellow gown gone, but she was never too tired to be waited on by the barefooted, near-sighted object in a ragged shirt who was waiting to welcome her home. While I made the soup and proposed to her, she would sit, lip-sticking, and laugh merrily. Two wecks of this primitive, ideal life of Nature and sore feet—and then, one day, I ransacked her top of the ridge—oh, boy! There was my yacht, anchored in the cove. In the stern was May's Aunt, still solemnly smoking cigars. But soft!—those oval voices, what were they?—that bright red laughter! Gun in hand, I advanced with — stealthitude. Mygod. There was May!—May and the Skipper, picnicking in a rheumatic dell Laughing—and probably at Me. fold up your hands!” May fainted. In another flourish, I had removed the Skipper’s boots and false teeth. All the way back to the beach, tongue hang: ing out, toes curly, I made him bear her. Then I borrowed his trousers and tied him to a tree in the sun, where the mosquitoes and ants could keep him amused. . . . Like one long Coney Island life was, from that time on. Every day, while I sat ona turtle and threw jelly-fish at him, the Skipper chased clams—fried clams in co- coanut oil, cursing. May had made over his pants to fit my beautiful Louis XVI legs. But May, poor May, was barefoot, now. I simply had to break her of that habit of wandering and extrancous oscula- tion. Fringed above her dimpled knees was that yellow gown, her silk stockings were no more; and she did what she could with her one hairpin. Every moment I feared she would bob her hair. It was not until I had taken away her lipstick, however, that she showed me where my eye-glasses were hidden. In a long deceased shark. But after that I was, in simple veritude, the King of Lipstick Island. And still, May refused me. Every time she looked at me, she laughed Lucky for her she had no mirror, She was hut. Under a heap of shopworn clam- shells, I found my revolver and the binoculars. With the help of these I discovered and brought down from the top of a tall palm tree, my old friends, the boots! I felt as if a rich uncle in New Zealand had just died, childless, with outa will, May came home, that day, so happy that I wondered whether she hadn't been making home- brew cocoanut hootch,upin the hills, in her evening gown. And so, next day, I followed her, Up and up through the jungle, stepping high, holding the binoculars close to Dravn by Rowrnt Lewes my eyes. At the Aix't Nature Versatice? comicbooks.com Sa, Dr m: thi lip tel de In W An