Judge — July 4, 1925 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

Then there's the perplexing matter of voting for my favorite dish in the Restaurant Owners’ campaign. (A poll of 1,000,000 restaurant patrons is being taken, but a few of us more prominent people in the telephone directory are being asked for an ex- pression in advance.) I realize I might simply say, “Oh, tish!” to this appeal for an expression, but, after all, we big men have a great influ- ence in molding the public mind, or in molding it, and my seemingly insignificant vote may throw millions of people from filet of sole to corned beef hash. I must shoulder the responsibility I said I would shoulder when I allowed my name to be put in the telephone directory. I think I shall vote for shoulder of veal or shoulder of canary, or shoulder of something. Not that I have a favorite dish. Five minutes after a meal of broiled shad or sugar-cured ham I am apt to reply tongue and spinach if you ask me what we had. And then I go on talking on monogamy versus Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. But I am broad-minded enough to know that an expression from me on favorite dishes is something the nation ought to have, and I must give it. It has just struck me that if the restaurant owners honestly want to know what the public's favorite dishes are, they might count up at closing time for a few days and sce what the public has ordered those days. What the public eats is a pretty good gauge on what the public wants to eat, and it scems to me that the restaurant owners are in an excellent position to find this out. A vote that is backed up with sixty- Kindly Chief—I regret to hear of your father’s death; I knew him five cents of cold cash is much more apt to be much more sincere than a merely academic vote like mine. The question of putting an oil burner in my house for next winter is somewhat more easily solved by me, because I have just sold my house. The real question is, did I make a mistake in selling my house? This particular oil burner “increases the home comforts 100 per cent.” and it can be installed “practically without any cost.” Our home was fairly comfortable as it was, and if it could have been 100 per cent. more comfortable it would have been a mighty comfort- able home. Maybe I ought to buy it back. That is something on which I must ponder all afternoon— especially since this burner is so reasonable in price. You see the big things a big man must decide in just one day of his life. And to-morrow there will be other problems, just as ponderous und just as pressing. Is life like this worth while? Or would I be justified in shooting the postman full of holes as a public warning to everybody to take me off of their mailing lists, and would I be better off to tear my telephone out by the roots? Shall I continue to be a big man, or shall I get to work and try to support my family? 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