Judge — October 27, 1923 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

rk. Warrer E. Traprock is our D favorite explorer, and we were, accordingly, genuinely concerned when we heard that he had vanished into the burning wastes of the Sahara. Not, of cou that we feared for his life or bodily safety. Any man who sailed the Kawa from the Coffee House Club on West Forty-fifth street to the South Seas, and then maneuvered the same craft to the North Pole, is not a man to be con- quered by a simoon. Besides, the great- est peril on the Sahara is the lack of water, and Dr. Traprock, we knew, never drinks water. No, we feared for him only because of his heart—his susceptible heart. ‘The desert, we knew, is swarming with exquisite Englishwomen, many of them unhappily married, and it’ was almost a foregone conclusion that the in- trepid doctor would fall desperately in love. Once in love, of course, he would feel obliged to rescue his beloved from any lecherous Sheik who might capture her, (And equally, of course, some lecherous Sheik was sure to do so, or why would she have gone into the desert in the place?) This rescuing of captured Eng- lish beauties from Arab Sheiks is danger- ous business. Either the Sheik or the heauty is sure to resent it. We felt grave concern for Traprock’s safety. But we are pleased to report—as, no that Dr. xk has returned from Africa not with a whole skin, because he Tray exactly peeled a good bit, but with full equipment of legs,arms, head, etc., and with a heart not so badly broken but time will heal the crack. More- over, he has written, and Putnam has published, the full story ty his ad- ventures, » hook is of the “a,” and it adds one wre title to that library of American adventure stories which are the ad- miration of the world. Once more he has proved that truth is stranger than fiction. Traprock met and loved his English beauty at) Monte Carlo, ashe was idly cruising in the Kawa along the blue Mediterranean. She was, of course, unhap- ily married, to Lord ypole, and had, in addition to this lure, sandy hair, a mascu- line voice, big bones, down on her face, and freckles. No won- der he followed her to the Sahara, where she contrived to let him know her whereabouts by fastening her blue ostrich plume into the TRAPROCK’S PASSION IN THE DESERT by Walter Prichard Eaton tail of a whiffle hen. Rapidly mastering several Arabian dialects, Traprock the rid pursued the swift) whithe hen ah’s camp, only to discover that 1 was likewise desired by the the ‘Terrible. Tt bee: to ride back to his caravan for nd then come to the rescue. ‘ue party arrived in the nick of and a superb battle ensued. The fo incident, was our friend k's method of landing quickly on d, without injury to his own aprock, of cour erly equipped for the desert, carried a gun with a barrel eight feet long. Pointing this into the sand, he used it for a vault- ing pole (he was a member of the Yale track team, you may recall), and was thus wine ne howe person. ing prop- descending upon his rival from the air, Terrible when Azad the swung at him “IAA CRE ya ntine with his sword. But Traprock was pre. pared for that, too. As the gleaming blade flashed toward him, he pulled: the trigger of his vaulting pole gun, and. the terrific recoil (the muzzle, remember, was in the sand) kicked him two feet upward, so that the blade cut beneath him, and then he landed full and fair on Azad's bean. ‘Traprock took Sarali from the odious her to the Nile, urge, like Antony + between fields of rice, cot ton, sesame and lilies. But, alas! the doctor could not be rained, even by love, from his scientific pursuits, so he discovered the tomb of the first Pharaoh, chrino I, and while exploring it Wim- secretly following him, pushed back stone in the roof where he had Before our hero could dig his way out, Wimpole had recaptured $ and removed her, freckles and all, to Eng- land, where she presently died of hydro- phobia, Wimpole having bitten her beau- tiful fuzzy forearm. But Traprock is now so far meevered from his grief that he the Kawa in dry dock, scraping her bottom for another cruise. Wittes Carl Van Vechten was a musi reporter on the 7 Times, a famous said of him that he had the eyes of Peter Pan and the mouth of Salome. The jesting remark has more than a grain of truth in it when applied to his latest book, Blind Bow-Boy,” (Alfred Knopf). There are cer: tain. persons who, no doubt, honestly enjoy the wit and playfulness there is in it, its: prank- ishness, and forgive the rest. And there others, no doubt,partien- “in the sophor Glasses atouruniversd who enjoy the obscenities in it, without very much idea of what those ob- scenities, actually, im- opera zer once ply. The adolescent relish of obscenity is nothing to get greatly excited about. If one did get excited about it, he would live in a state of perpetual per- turbation! But the relish of obscenity in a ler of cighteen is thing, and the creation of it by a writer of forty is another. There comes a time in the life of most normal boys, how. ever bright and S prankish they are, + when they cease to scribble indecencies out back of the ‘In the spring a young man’s 3 fancy turns to eyes, But in the autumntime a pumpkin takes the prize. schoolhouse, and Cont. on page 31) 1 Al leatk are ¢ play spea ratel All's W Anton} As You Comed Coriol: Cymbx Hamle Julius King I ( King } ( King } King } King] ( comicbooks.com