Judge — March 1, 1924 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

Drawn by Joun Hew, Je, THE TELEPHONE MENACE "Pe court room was jammed with spec- ‘They leaned forward on the edge of their seats, biting their finger- nails nervously. ach one of them had one hand cupped behind his ear, and was ning to hi tators. In the corridors a great crowd milled and pushed, murmuring angrily as they awaited the verdict. A court attendant h of air, and a ar trumpet ques- He shook his head sadly; he could not hear her. stepped out for a bi little old lady with an tioned him excitedly. The tense court room was as still as death. In the dock cringed the prisoner. The audience, the judge, the jury, the very court attendants stared at him with hate. They were all deaf. The lawyer for the defense introduced his sole witness, the manufacturer of a patent ear trumpet, the only friend the prisoner had. He spoke as distinctly as possible, but he could not make himself understood. The jury put their hands behind their ears and listened patiently, although they could none of them hear a sound. When he was done the audience hissed him on general principles. Then the attorney for the prosecution arose and faced the jury. In. straight- Southern Exposure. language, he As his quick fingers spelled the overwhelming accusa- deaf-and-dumb stated the case clearly. forward tion, the forlorn prisoner sank lower and lower in his box. “Your and gentlemen of the jury,” the attorney's hands said rapidly, “T do not think Lam going too far when I state that the prisoner is guilty of a scheme to ruin the hearing of the entire honor nation. [charge him of a conspiracy inst the American eardrum, “How did he do it, your hon As president of the’ Telephone Corpor is personally responsible for the organiza- tion, he tion of the ammunitions department, in which he has seized upon the various bangs and clicks and whistles that sound in your ears whenever you are trying to get a number, aad developed them to a point where at present they are almost sure means of total deafness. “For example, a recent investigation of the telephone plant disclosed a small mouth- piece, which is exploded at intervals while cannon mounted beside ev the party is trying to get a number. ‘This fiend” —the prisoner quivered —“has even trained a machine gun squad to let loose in the middle of a conversation, particu- larly on long distance ca 13 “Furthermore, we discovered that each operator has been presented with a small toy grasshopper. On receiving a busy line, she is instructed to click this grass- hopper time regular int _ at the same ing through her nose: “The line will re-turn your money! The party listens closely, and at that moment is busy. I the attorney held up a dan- gerous black cylinder—“this is a speci- + your honor, of the kind of bomb he uses. mei “Gentlemen of the jury,” he concluded, “the prisoner is a bad number. T advise you to ring him up.” The jury returned almost immediately. The foreman held up a huge placard wring the verdict, inasmuch as the judge s stone deaf. It carried but one word: judge bent over; his eyes burned “You rest of your Life in a cell the malignantly. are sentenced to spend the size of a telephone booth,” he pronounced “with a receiver glued to each ear, trying to get Australia.” Cries of joy from the spectators broke the silence as the prisoner was led away sobbing. Only the prisoner could hear them. Corey Forp. comicbooks.com