Judge — March 24, 1923 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

Thorough Gilpin by Gardner Rea Gs is so infernally thorough! Compared with him, ants and lanches are slipshod. Not that he everything in the world better than ev oni of course. For instance, he has never hunted chamois. But if he ever did, he’d shoot them twice, or speak harshly to them twice—or whatever it is to them, twice—for everyone Not that it would be n si It would be Gilpin. And_ you're quite right; we all do loathe him. If there’s one thing keeps us alive more than collecting vitamines it’s the passion- ate, mean desire to show Gilpin up. Oh, at ‘anything, you know! But—well Jones tried it. Poor, old Jone A perfect fiend for mountains. Even to think of sitting down to breakfast with- out first having shinned up a peak or two, according to Jones, was the site stigmata of a misspent. life. So we sicked him on Gilpin, and he sicked Gilpia on his highest and nastiest’ mountain. And Gilpin? Well, not only did he | Jones to the top, but when he got thei he pulled out a little folding tripod and stood on that, Now you know what sort of a chap Gilpin is. Thorough. one else once “It’s a girl.” The next morning we buried Jones; and after that things quieted down for a bit. We simply sat around and listened to Gilpin being superior. ‘That is, till I got my idea, Gilpin was holding forth on the tragedy of accident. Mere, dirty chance, it seems, has deprived us of some of our greatest men. Almost, in fact, deprived a “Only cut off fifteen cents’ worth, Mister. I wanna treat Lucy to a cone.” 12 us of Gilpin! At the « an absent-minded nu and put to bed the s« to drown in his bath. Had not pup heroically lapped up the wate uncovered him—! We shuddered. pup, added Gilpin with quiet amusemen ran through the house foaming from the soapy water, and was drolly shot for mad 1 never by r And ever since that, he 1 o endure the sight of wate Ily T rushed from the room. ice diving. in.” T said a month later. submerging bo beat you at i He was game, Tl say that for him rawabble: And at me ina race to the dock. ow,” I said, as I puffed up, “tl is simply this, We both jump the last one up wins. “All N idea and Go!” I rather think I car ge of three months half hour later Next morning the divers found him: both feet wrapped around an old anchor. his stiff hands bal chest, and, clutched grimly in his tect! icing a rock on his what appeared to be a crowbar. His set lips wreathed in a smik triumph. Gilpin was thorough! were