Judge — May 20, 1922 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

Drawn by Clive Ween, — Clubman (to beginner)—You mustn’t be discouraged. able to write a book on bridge. You'll soon be “I've written two check books already!” Why Manicurists Never Marry By Alfred Westfall “BILE up my mitts, little one,” said the man just out of the first chair to the little blonde behind the manicurist’s table. “I've got to have ‘em in good shape for the ball season. I'm the new pitcher the Giants paid $20,000 for, and we start South for spring training to-morrow.” “I'm for you,” replied the manicurist. “I can always tell these big league players. They never tip less than a quarter. I have most of the big ones in here every day, some of them two or three times.” She didn’t tell the “$20,000 pitcher” that she knew he sold underwear in a department store down the street, or that the Giants had gone South the week before, but she got her quarter. “It's worth fifty cents just to have you hold my hand,” said the faded, bald-headed man who followed. “It’s worth more than that to do it.” She could tell he was married, because his shirt was darned at the collar and Drawn by A, Th. WALKER from the habit he had of looking un- easily over his shoulder. “Say, talk about parties, you outer seen the one we had last night. Real Scotch, bottled in bond. Part of the stuff they high-jacked out of Elihu Root'’s cellar,” began the fat man who came next. “You men are the easy marks. A bootlegger could sell you anything from carbolic acid to weak tea if he told you it came from Root's cellar. Half the fellows that have been in here this week claim they have been drink- ing part of Root's private stock. And from the way some of it smells, be- lieve me, Elihu ought to pay the high- jackers for dragging it off.” “Gee, kid, if I had eyes like yours, do you know what I'd do with 'em?” said a mushy one. “That's what the last three fellows have asked me. Can't you give me a new line of chatter?” “Let me tell you a receipt that will turn out stuff that would make Vol- stead change his vote. I just got it from a fellow that knew a guy that used to be head distiller in the largest distillery in Kentucky for fourteen years. He says...” “Sure, I know that one by heart. I've already heard it four times to- day. You have to strain it through a silk handkerchief, put it in brown bottles, and turn the bottles twice a day.” After having five fellows accuse her of being out late the night before, three ask for dates; six, mostly fat men, squeeze her hand, and nine tell her she had Marilynn Miller beat for looks; after trimming the hands of thirteen big league ball players, in- cluding Ty Cobb, Kelly, and three “Babe” Ruths, and after recognizing prunes in the odor of four kinds of home-brew and raisins in that of eight others, she gathered up $2.15 in tips, and made a dash for the subway so as to get home to her east side flat in time to cook supper. TWO TO MAKE A BARGAIN “Don't you think it is wrong to go fishing on Sunday?” asked the good deacon. “Sure replied the unregenerate backslider. “Any fish that is wicked enough to bite on Sunday deserves to get caught.” “Dolls.” comicbooks.com