Judge — April 22, 1922 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

Stroke and Bore HERE is an eight-inch gash in the leather of the rear seat of Joe Hughes’s car. It is a fresh gash. I spoke about it to Joe. How on earth did it happen? Joe didn’t know, nor seem to care «+ much, Though he personally is neat and new and clean-looking, his car is an unholy disgrace. I’ve told him so, but the telling might have been a com- pliment for all the good it did. When we take him to task he merely grins after a silly fashion and answers nothing. It is nothing short of outrageous. Barely a year ago it was he bought it. And now— The fenders are marred and luster- less . . . as though small boys had used them to slide upon. The floor of the tonneau usually is covered with a carpet of peanut hulls. Chewing gum of a distinctly second- hand nature reveals itself by insidious means to have been hidden in the seat- folds, and yesterday I noticed some vandal had carved his initials in the tonneau cowl. But its disheveled appearance mat- ters not among the youngsters. The children of our small town think of him in thoughts of God; and one little, girl, red-haired and my own, inquired at prayers last night if God were somebody like Uncle Joe. oc os << A garageman in Albany, who also deals in old cars, which he buys for their parts, had a visitor not so long ago. The visitor sought to buy “any old and broken pistons, connecting rods, drive shafts, gears.” He wished to purchase, he made plain, only such parts as were broken. The dealer led the way to his junk pile. ‘“What’ll you give me for the lot?” he asked. The stranger shuffled in the pile for a moment, and then named an aston- ishing price. The dealer jumped at the offer, and several hours later a truck came to the door and the mass was carted away. Several weeks later the visitor again called. This time the dealer was curious. “What do you do with this junk?” he asked. “That’s a pretty good price for unusable material.” “I'll tell you,” answered the un- known, “if you can keep your mouth shut.” The dealer nodded. “I've got a regular business in New York, selling this stuff to a few guys who run repair shops. When they get a repair job they show the cus- tomer one of these twisted or busted parts and tell him it came out of his car. So that gives them the price of the new part in their bill, makes the customer stand for extra service By Monte Soun hours, and the same old part goes back because it wasn’t injured at all.” The dealer was agape. While he was in the throes of his a-gapeing, the stranger said, “Say... you ain’t got any busted mags or driveshafts or crankshafts, have you? I'll give you a nifty price for them.” ~~ f+ = “Since Jones bought that locomo- bile he never goes anywhere without bodyguards.” “Bodyguards?” “Sure; bumpers front and rear.” Roars of mechanical might from a car are well enough, but outside of the few whose vanity it flatters to hear the tantalized giant below the floor- boards cry out robustly when tickled by the throttle, most of us rather fancy most particularly the car that passes all others on difficult hills with- out beefing about it. We remarked on this to a fast-dyed motorist we know. “You're right,” said he. “There's no music so swect to me as the purr of a quiet motor. And the less I hear it the sweeter it sounds.” o> > < After an hour of futile trying to raise the service station of the firm from whom he bought his car, a Ver- monter finally called the livery stable of his town. “That you, Mike?” he queried. It was. “This is Sam'l Towns'nd.” “Yes.” “Say, Mike, you know that sixty horsepower car I just bought... well, the horses ‘re all dead. An’ I’m stuck out here at Bergen. If you got a couple of live ones you could send them out, I'd pay you handsome. And if you ain’t got horses, a mule ‘ll do. Reason I got to get back pretty quick *s because the last payment on this car's due to-morrow, and I want to sell it. Don't want to buy a good car, do yuh? Thought not. Well, if it’s a pretty good lookin’ mule, I'll call it a even swap.” nov, ~ \ , WELL ALL / ots, + doin In 7 G-LLoeious 7 Au5o 7 Ps! escave rn THE 9) Ycoutection RADIO DEVOTION The almost perfect Sunday morning. 7