Judge — July 16, 1927 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

Seattle Public Library The Complete Speech-Maker SPEECH ON BEING GIVEN THE GATE BY THE GIRL FRIEND Miss Buckminster, Relatives and Friends, Ladies and Gentle- men: Well, gorgeous, you thought you pulled a hot one when you just handed me the one-way ticket, didn’t you? I suppose you thought I’d flop down on the floor and moan like a banshee. Let me point out a few facts, that is, if you can keep that fat face of yours quiet for three minutes. The truth is, I’ve realized for a long time now that even if you had the money for a mud-pack you'd still look like a bad hang- over., You have the kind of face that makes a gent wake up in the middle of the night in terror when he was only dreaming about you. And yet if it was only your face I wouldn’t mind. But you've got a tongue that makes your mother look like she had lockjaw—and believe me, babe, that’s saying something. How your poor old father ever stands that woman is more than I can figure out. By the time you’re as old as she is they'll be giving you shots in the arm to quiet you. You ought to feel glad you met me, though; I did a lot for you. When I first met you, people used to avoid you like a diphtheria sign, but since I’ve been taking you around I notice they speak to you now and then; it must be because you're a friend of mine. And to think of some of the hot numbers that I’ve turned away on account of you! Only the other day I had to hang up on a little dame when she started crying over the phone how I hadn’t given her a minute lately. And then to think you having the gall to shove the skids under me! But you'll find out some day when it’s too late, and you'll curse yourself for letting a smooth benny like me slip through your fingers. Well, I’d like to tell you a few things about yourself if I had the time but it’s almost eight- fifteen and there’s a big blonde mamma waiting for me that makes you look like a pail of clinkers, so don’t cry because I’ve released you and call me up sometime. I’d like to see you if I’m not doing anything. —S. J. Peretman “Begging your pardon, Doctor, but there’s a patient of yours here, sir, for treatment.” Here’s the keen comfort campers’ car, equipped with well- stocked trout stream, real pine tree, grass flooring, one-half cord of firewood, electric lights and radio. (Bugs and flies extra.) i comicbooks.com