Judge — October 13, 1923 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

DICTATED BUT NOT READ by Walter Prichard Eaton oBERT Lotis STEVENSON once re- R marked that he would no more think of letting his illness get into what he wrote than he would think of speaking in public of a pimple on_ his posterior. ‘This is no doubt an admirable titude. But it cannot be ours this We, alas! are suffering from con- junctivitis. We are shut up in a dark room, with a pound of cracked ice on each id, which, you must admit, is a diffi- position for a conscientious book reviewer, who really reads the books he reviews. We might, of course, have hooks read to us, and then dictate reviews of them through a crack in the door, as we are dictating this. But we always did hate to be read to. There are two kinds of readers-out-loud—those who read without any expression, and those who try to read with it. We have never been able to determine which is the more ob- noxious. Besides, it is too slow. It would take at least two weeks by that method to get through one novel by Charlie Norris. Still another drawback is the fact that we never ¢ minute we realize that somebody is vaiting with a poised pencil for our next words, every idea § leaves us and we find our mind a blank. Speaking of Charlie Norris, there is his new novel, “Bread,” waiting for us downstairs. And here are the of June waiting with their tongues hanging out to hear our opinion of it (Like Artemus Ward's kangaroo, we are an ironic little cuss.) We like Charlie’s_ method of choosing titles. There is no reason why he should not go on writing —indefinit Already he has given us‘‘Salt,” “Brass”and “Bread.” But think of all the things wait- ing for his pen! In time he can complete his shelf with meat, milk, lead, wood, pepper, pickles and aluminum sulphate. Mrs. Norris has a new book out, too, “Butterfly.” Tt ar- rived a few moments before the conjuncti- * vitis bug, just in time to enable us to see the title. The Norris family certainly pre- sents a picture of do- mestic industry, each member working busily and turning out a novel a year— none of your little 250- ‘airs, cither, but regular old three dec ckers and find- ing time between whiles to be a happy and devoted couple, in proof of which he makes “Bread” while she produces “Butterf It must be due to the climate of Cali We wonder if there ¢ vitis germs in Califor . e * F Te kow of stars does not indicate nything improper. It merely indi- cates that we have been read to. The clickety-click of the R. F. D. man’s horse on the road informed us that mail had arrived, and in it was discovered a book by Hugh Lofting. We'd listen to Hugh Lofting, even if Arnold Daly read it to us. Besides it was very short. It was led **The Story of Mrs. Tubbs” (Fred’k A. Stokes Co.), and our connubial secre- tary informs us that the print is big, and pictures delicious. In fact, she says, it is a children’s book. ybe. But it suited us all right to be sure, the flavor of ¢ and romantic adventure which made the tales of Dr. Doolittle so thrilling. But it compensates by a certain homely Jimmy has the right of way. realism and bucolic charm. Old Mrs. Tubbs is evicted from her farm by an absentee landlord (the story may be subt alistic propaganda), in favor of a red-faced nephew of this absentee ogre. Her dog, Peter Punk, her duck, Polly Ponk, and her pig. Patrick Pink, accom- pany the poor old creature into the woods, and there make her comfortable as they can (the pig by serving as a hot- water bottle her feet when she lies down to sleep), while they devise ways and means to drive out the usurper and get her back into her home. It is Punk, the dog, aided by a swarm of wasps, who finally succeeds in this laudable task. We have a happy ending. with Mrs. ‘Tubbs once more before her hearth, telling bedtime stories to Punk and Ponk and Pink. How well Hugh Lofting understands dogs! In one of the Dr. Doolittle stories, “s testimony saves a man in a mur- der trial. There were those who con- sidered this a mere nt fiction. But only the oth ) lof aman being convicted for murder on the testi- mony of a dog. It is always the fairy stories in this world which turn out to be true. And every sen- sible person knows that animals talk. The trouble is that most writers don’t know what they say, and put. idiotic re- marks into their mouths. Lofting, however, really un- derstands them and reports them — cor- rectly. His books a genuine contribu- tion to science. NV rs. Tusss caused us to for- get the ice pack. Now it J} been filled again. Why does ict seem to burn you. when your eyes are shut? WwW: SHOULDN'T he surprised if the editors of JupGE re- fused to pay us for this week's contribu- tion. Wait till they see next week's! We told the doctor we simply couldn't go into a dark room, be- cause we had to read for JupGE. “What Judge?” he said. “You may be a good doctor,” we an- swered, “but other- wise you are a very ignorant ma (Continued on page 23) comicbooks.com ee