Judge — December 26, 1925 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

“Oh! That reminds me—a necktie for Daddie!” The Adventures of Flubb and Tubb (Continued from page 6) But to-night, jist to git noo friends, de International Chawklit Company is sellin’ ’em fer fifteen cents—jist fifteen—and wid each package of chawklits poichased by any gent or lady, not only duz yuh git delicious- ful, tasteful, temptin’ candies, but by special arrangement wid de Flubb Flower Pot Company of dis city, yuh also gits, free of any foider charge, one of de noo Kris Kringle design Flubb flower pots, which sells in de stores fer twenty-fi’ cents each. To-night, de candy an’ de flower pot is yours for de small sum of fifteen cents. I tanks youse, one an’ all, fer yer wery kin’ an’ coiteous atten- tion.” Immediately shrill cries filled the theater as the venders surged through the aisles, holding high above their heads the lithographed candy boxes and a sample Kris Kringle design Flubb flower pot. Richard H. Green- stem of Atlanta, Ga., gazed wildly forward and through the haze of smoke discerned the pot he had just purchased for $1 a dozen being given Ta) away gratuitously with each box of alleged “pure an’ tasteful candies,” He gazed down at his sprinkling of fraternal emblems and then turned to regard Henry Flubb. “Most original and sought-after models on the market, eh, brother?” he ques- tioned, his voice as cold as the off- stage eyes of “Babe” La Sole. “Creation of that youthful genius, Tobias Tubb, eh? Buyers breaking their necks to get them, but you're willing, as a favor, to close them out to me for a mere dollar a dozen, eh?” He snorted derisively. “You had to peddle them out in burlesque shows to get rid of them!” Henry Flubb sputtered, gasped and vainly tried to speak, but only suc- ceeded in making inarticulate sounds of despair. Greenstem seized his hat and coat. “Henry Flubb,” he shouted, “that order is canceled, voided and nullified. There'll never be another Flubb flower pot in the inside of any Greenstem store as long as I’m alive. Farewell, Brother Flubb!” Then “Babe” La Sole appeared, the lights dimmed and the chorus of “whizzy widows,” their joints creak- ing slightly, hobbled painfully and The editor who issues his Christmas number two months in advance starts his Christmas shopping. comicbooks.com