Judge — February 14, 1925 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

Shoot ’Em at Sunrise by George Mitchell HE reason why a lot of actors | who should be shot at sunrise are not shot at sunrise is be- cause they do not get up that early. Speaking of hooting, I saw Tom Mix the other a picture called “Ben” —L mean “Dick Turpin’ — in which he empties his well-filled bag of tricks. Tom, like the good egg he is, is served in all an egg’s versatility. He is boiled, strangled, coddled, parched and hard-boiled in rapid concussion, Tom, in this picture, is the natural descendant of Robin Hood, an Eng- lish highwayman, whose heart is soft for the poor and the downtrodden and in his chivalric defense of ro- mance comes within a rope’s end of swinging on the gallows, It’s good honest hokum, well done and if you want to forget your troubles, Tom and his faithful pegasus, “Tony,” will tum the trick for you. Now Tataavce, the leading lady of the fillums, is appearing in a picture called “The Lady. The story concerns itself with the struggle of an English concert hall singer with an inferiority comple who marries a low-life in high society. (Continued on page 30) Caney ear tome ANDE RON =———— “*He trousseau much bull I couldn't beliere him.” The new coast defense gun drops a ton of metal twenty-five miles out at sea. Finet The Diary of a Dub Monday—Took a drink this morn- ing and have felt bad allday. It was real, old stuff; the fellow that sold it to said so. Tuesday—Bought another pint from him to-day and to-night I was unable to move my arms much. Wednesday—My third pint made me so under the weather that I had to call three doctors. Something must be wrong with me, for I know Thursday—Tried another pint and by night I couldn't move. Wonder if the cold weather is to blame? Friday—AMfter I drank the pint to-day I was blind for seven hours. My head still rings and there are funny blurs in front of my eyes all the time. Can't understand it; maybe Ineed glasses, Saturday—Drank another pint of that good old stuff again to-day and am in hospital to-night. For some reason I can’t exactly explain, I'm wondering if it’s possible that the booze you get now isn’t inferior in some ways to the stuff we had before prohibition. Chet Johnson sae America—the land of the bob and the home of the wave. comicbooks.com oe 3 < z <