Judge, 1927-07-02 · page 29 of 36
Judge — July 2, 1927 — page 29: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct elements: **Left column:** A humorous essay titled "High Hat" (continued from page 9) recounting the author's misadventures at horse racing and boxing events. The narrator describes betting on horse races with absurd results—losing money to a bookie who disappears into the countryside, and missing famous events (Dempsey vs. Firpo fight, horse races) due to collapsing bleachers and other mishaps. The piece is a comedic tall tale about bad luck and incompetence at sporting venues. **Right side:** An illustration showing a man in work clothes and a hat sitting near a truck tire, with a small armadillo or similar creature nearby. Below is an advertisement for Kelly-Springfield tires, using the hot-weather setting as a sales pitch—the character assures his companion these tires won't need changing even in extreme heat. The page is primarily entertainment and advertising rather than political satire. The "High Hat" essay mocks the author's own foolishness; the ad uses relatable outdoor labor scenarios to promote tire durability.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
lady named Martin who has evi- dently practised imitating Alison Skipworth in front of her mirror; and, in the wondrous part of the | Russian hussy, a Mlle, Joan Gordon, who contrives to make the réle even more ridiculous than it is. Which, forsooth, calls for an uncommon degree of virtuosity. High Hat (Continued from page 9) to a man that was passing and handed him a bill and a slip of paper “That's the way it's done, I yelled, and taking | my empty pie plate I wrote on it, “Seven bucks on Forecaster” . 1c) folding it around my money, I waited expectantly, and when the hext man came along I shoved the package quickly in his hand. . . . I guess he must have been going home, I never saw him again! Then we heard a lot of cheer- ing, and when we rushed out in front of the grandstand they were putting some numbers up on a pole, but we didn’t see any horses ... that is, not on the track... . Lindbergh, or somebody, must have been walking by .. . and then everybody went home! eae Which reminds me of the night I saw Dempsey fight Firpo .. just as they were coming out for the second round, the bench we were standing on collapsed, and when I crawled out from under- neath everybody was leaving! fh I finally did get a bet a few days later at duct, and my horse won, but I didn’t get any money!... The fellow who took my money was all right, but after dogging his footsteps all the rest of the after- Howeve noon he said he couldn't pay me right there at the track and to follow him... about a dozen of us trailed after him . . . it was awfully hot and I think he must have been a professional cross- country walker, because he cer- tainly could step... he walked across nd through woods . . . talk about your forced marches! ... I don’t remember where it was that I dropped by the wayside and even now I don’t know where he is. . . « I guess he’s still walking! , | : “Boy, it certainly is hot! I hope your tires will stand it; I'm not hankering | i to do any changing in this sun.” | ; “You won't have to—these are Kelly-Springfields.” Abv. 27 lots, over fences comicbooks.com