Judge — June 5, 1926 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

A Petting Party Call G'oMETHING seemed to have hit Morey, either Bee or the greenish drink or both; his eyes took on a trifle of mistiness. He reached suddenly for both Bee's hands. “How gosh-awful beautiful you are, kid!” And “This is my night,” sudden quietne said Morey with Bee wondered at him. His face, no longer shrewd and collegiate, glowed romantically in the darkness. he recalled what her mother had told her about sex. She knew girls who spoke of the grand passion lightly, but in Bee's mind it w all tied up with petting parties on dark roads, gin, promiscuity—in a word commonness. But when she felt Morey’s hands upon her shoulders, something within Bee gave way, like a deep-rooted weed at the urgency of a farmer's spade, Bee turned up her mouth to be kissed! Her first kiss astounded her. ” she whispered. “Mother was . yes, I'll hold you tight—you darling! she heard him say. And then she gave up her weak protestations, allowing him to kiss her again and again. She wasn't conscious of the precise moment when her thoughts became blurred. This couldn't be a petting party— this must be love! wane If a girl is puzzled to know when a petting party ceases to be a petting party and becomes mad love, should she ask her mother's advice or an attractive young man's? “A Petting Party Call” in the current i. ‘APPY STORIES. On all newsstands. SSS ee ken |Sea SICKNESS —in the roughest waters. This palling nausea is unnecessary suf- fering. Mothersill’s prevents Travel Sickness on your journeys by Sea, Train, Auto, Car or Air, 3 c. & $1.50 at Drug Stores or direct fhe Mothersill Remedy Go.. Lid. New York Montreal (MUDDY. OILY SKIN quickly improved and usually cleared entirely if properly treated with Resinol Findi--g the Umbrella “O«. bother!” said Clare. “I've left it in the elevator.” Clare spends her life leaving her umbrella in elevators and buses and taxis and tubes and other people's houses, and I spend mine retrieving it. I sighed. “Clare,” careless!” “Have you only that? I said sadly, “you are ‘overed ionately. “My poor darling! I discovered that years and years ago. But you'll be an angel and go for it, won’t you?” So I was an angel and went for it. The elevator man remembered its being left in the elevator. He'd given it to the head of the boot and shoe de- partment, which was his terminus. “The harpooner left his glasses home. I sought out the head of the boot and shoe department. I had to wait some time because he was attending to a customer who had very lengthy views on the coal report, but I got him at last. He was disappointed that I didn’t want a pair of boots. He looked at mine in a pained sort of way as if only politeness kept him from telling me what he really thought about them. But he was quite nice about the umbrella. He'd had it only a short time ago but, hearing that one was being inquired for in the blouse department, he'd sent it over there. I went to the blouse department and asked to see the head of it. He was a morose kind of man. His manner implied that his whole life was embittered by people who leave their umbrellas in elevators. He told Street Singer—“And for Bonnie Annie Laurie, I’d lay me down and die.” Passer-By (sotto voice)—I’m sorry I can’t find her for you. —Humorist 26 comicbooks.com