Judge — December 18, 1926 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

- JUDGE A Visit to Giuseppe How my heart leaped as 1 de- scended from the train and walked up the old familiar street from the station. First of all I would see Giuseppe the cobbler, whimsic: wizened, wrinked, an- cient Giuseppe who always sat in the window of his tiny shop and ham- mered endless heels and soles. I smiled as I remembered how he used to put a handful of tacks into his mouth while all of the neighbor- hood urchins, including myself, grinned through the window. Good old Giuseppe! As skillful in the dis- semination of homely philosophy as in the repairing of tattered soles. Sentimental fool that I was! Yet hadn't the world given me enough grief and disillusionment? Maybe the paternal Giuseppe, sitting on his little round stool, would take the tacks from his mouth long enough to Cataclysmic events—a newspaper prints its retraction as prominently as it displayed the original slander. Cueslee (. Cet “Doris, say you'll divorce me.” greet me and maybe he would pause with his hammer poised in midair to give me one of his mellow smiles. Then I reached the cobbler’s shop. But how different it was! Outside a i jaimed that s of the Nu Way Rapid Shoe Repairing Corpora- tion. Inside complicated and awe- inspiring machinery whirled around as shoes were automatically conveyed from one mechanical monster to another. A heavy Oriental rug cov- ered the floor and efficient young mechanics tended the machines. “Does anybody here remember Giuseppe?” I asked the alert mana- ger. He glanced at his polished nails. “Giuseppe who?” he inquired. “Giuseppe Sabatini,” I answered. He drew himself up very erect. “Mr. Sabatini vice-president of this corporation in personal charge of operations and publicity. He is at present inspecting our Pacific Coast rubber heel factories.” I murmured a polite thank you and slowly walked to the street. Then I turned and gazed into the window and again I seemed to see old Giuseppe, his mouth full of tacks, seated on his little stool, ham- mering endless leather heels and comicbooks.com