Judge — November 20, 1926 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE The 1926 Blue Book A Book Review Ass the tireless author of the Blue Book Series for Merry Motorists has given us the fruits of his brain, Though published earlier in the year, this reviewer decided to wait until the motoring season was over before attempting a critical monograph on this volume which has been one of the best sellers of the year. Gifted with a facile pen, the talented writer of these books is guilty of much repetition in phra: ology. The one sentence: “Bear left at school house” appears re- peatedly with depressing monotony. Could he not have written: “To the left, old-timer; at the schoolhouse,’ or ‘Snap out of it, bo—left at the old Hokum Bucke Throughout the volume there is a constant reitera- tion of “Slow Down—Steep Hill” or “Sharp Upgrade Beyond Railroad Station.” I think these two sen- tences occur about seventy times in the first thirty pages, obviously sloppy writing which could have been overcome by rhyming the exhorta- tion, somewhat like this: “Dangerous hill—the curve _ is sharp; Slow down, friend, or twang a harp.” The author is woefully negligent in the matter of detours. Never once does the action in the book lead up to a good, stirring detour. But on the road almost every route leads up to one. His character portrayal, Motrner—Tommy, why are you always at the tail end of your class? Tommy—That’s all right—they teach the same things at both ends! HELLO CENTRAL & WWE ME HEAVEN! The scene is a river bed; the characters, a father oyster and Hannah, his youthful daughter oyster. Said the father oyster: you to behave yourself while I’m gone.” Now, Hannah, I want “Ah, poppeh,” replied the young one, “this is June, and nobody expects an oyster to be good at this season!” The old man’s amusement knew no bounds. Pass at your own risk. Judge pays $5 for each one printed however, is excellent. This little passage will illustrate my point: “Six miles from here is the Village of Snetherlow, founded by plucky Major Bronson just after the close of the Spanish-American War. Major Bronson had just returned from Valley Forge where he had conferred with General Washington, General Pershing and President Lincoln and was on his way to the front with some German prisoners when he met Napolean. ‘Surrender!’ commanded the Little Corporal. ‘Never!’ an- swered Major Bronson. And that’s how the Village of Snethrelow was founded, boys and girl The plot, of course, does not de- viate much from the formula, though the description of hotels this year attains a new standard of hyperbolic excellence. Anyone who contem- plates a motor trip this fall will find the book easy reading. There's no need to look at rural scenery and flamboyant billboards when touring. Tote along this book. With your head buried deep beiween its covers, speed through the country and past the wonders of Mother Nature. Autumn will tint the hills and trees a golden brown, but that needn't bother you if your blue book is along. Arthur L, Lippmann comicbooks.com