Judge — April 16, 1927 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

rye . Mail { W. J. Black, Pass, Traf. Mgr., Santa Fe System Lines + 1158-A Railway Exchange, Chicago, Il. Please send me free picture folder, about the ““Indian- detour’’ and “Roads to Yesterday.” The America of Coronado waits for you beside this motor trail— An enchanted land, where for three days your luxurious Harveycar carries you on a personally escorted motor tour of ancient Indian pueblos and prehistoric cliff-dwellings in the New Mexico Rockies between Las Vegas, Santa Fe and Albuquerque. A new motor link in the Santa Fe cross-continent rail journey to and from California. Only $50 with everything provided—meals, lodging with bath every night and motor transportation. In no other way can you see so much of a vast, fascinating region in so short a@ time —and with the same economy, the same comfort and the same free- dom from alltrivial distraction. On the Indian- detour you are still the guest of Santa Fe-Fred Harvey in every detail of ac- commodation and fine service — Ask for picture folder. felder — How the American photographers are getting that pleased expression just now. Lining Up Louisville I'd been selling Marathon Matches about a month when one day old L. S. M., he’s The Chief, sends Joe Spiven and me down to Louisville to see if we can’t get in with our line and take some business away from The Gulliver Match Company which is prac- tically selling every dealer in town. We hit the burg on the morn- ing rattler and Joe takes one side of the street and I starts working the other and soon I walks into Old Man Meyer’s Grocery Store. The old boy is in the back dusting some shredded wheat bo: and Tue Bororar’s Wire—Wireless ’ll be the ruin of you—you've done nothing but stop at home o’ nights and neglect business ever since you pinched that two-tube set! —Lonvon Opinion le pecks out at me and shouts, “What do you want?” “Wanta sell you some matches.” I replies, looking up at his shelves, which I see is all filled with Gulliver Match Boxes, and I ain't none too sure of getting an order, “Get out. This is my busy day. Got no time for salesmen,” snarls Old Man Meyer and he don't even say good bye to me, but turns his back and starts dusting them boxes again. Well, I was sore as a pup so I thinks quick and finally I says to him: “All right, you old bologny, | you. I see you got our stuff on | —Gaiety comicbooks.com