Judge — January 22, 1927 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

S “THE LAMPOON” WOULD DO IT “Who was that lady IT saw you with last night, Cabotsky?” Koslominoff—A moment, my sweet one. What flat are you singing in? Madam Olga Petronavich—This ain’t no flat, it’s a theater. —Brown Jug “That was no lady—that was the wife of a Princeton man.” Highly Combustible Youth (Continued from page 3) Now there were but fifteen seconds left. Green River led with a score of 2,501. Three Star’s score was 2,497. The air was filled with shouts of “whee-ee” as the leading team saw victory in sight. And Dewey was weakening _ rapidly. Belladonna sensed the mute appeal in his blood- shot eyes. She stood up on her chair and drained the last drop from her flask. Then her lithe, agile body went into the first steps of the Charleston. Gracefully she rocked and swayed in the acrobatic gyra- tions of the dance. The brilliant are lights gleamed on her blonde hair and were reflected in the sheen of her sheer stockings. And Dewey saw her. Across the wide expanse of the field her magnetism reached out to him. As her eyes sparkled like twenty carat diamonds (what's a few carats more or less?) and her red lips quivered, he drank like no Three Star Varsity man had ever drunk before. His right arm went up and down so rapidly that the breeze he created rustled the pennants in the stands. Sturdy beer steins melted and the referee had to hand him a new glass for every drink. Five seconds left —three seconds left—suddenly the sole remai Green River warrior paused to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. That second was enough. Before his opponent could recover his rhythm, Dewey had drained four more glasses and tory perched on the banners of dear old Three Star. “Silence,” commanded the referee. “Boys and girls,” he announced, “Mr. Herman Dewey Gilch, All American Varsity Imbiber, with an individual total of thirty-four quarts and three pints, has won the ma- hogany bar for his Alma Mater. Bromo Seltzer will be served at the South Gate. Bury your own dead, please. Cuaprer III They met that evening in the little summer house behind the chapel. The calm hand of night had stilled the quivering air of day. All the little inhibitions and complexes were merrily scampering about as Dewey leaped lightly from his velocipede into the thousand kilowatt embrace of Belladonna. The clock in the steeple struck twelve. Locked in each other's arms, lips to lips, heart to heart, they heard nothing. Soon a thin wisp of smoke arose from their forms and a faint Play oor By Ear hits perfectiy. arr ho teacher ted Gally practic fog fessor Bet = Faerie BOW LEGS? THIS GARTER (Pat’d) Makes Trousers Hang Straight If Lega Bend In or Out, Self Adjustable. Free Bocklet—Plain Bealed Envelope The T. GARTER CO, Def, A New Londons ‘New Hampshire comicbooks.com