Judge — August 13, 1927 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE The Melancholy Tavern Gloom, he vy, dispiriting gloom hung over the porches of the Mountain View Hotel high in the hills. Nearby the tall pines whis- pered to each other, and a tin- kling water fall in the forest crooned its liquid lullaby. Birds chirped in the nearby forest and the sun smiled pleasantly on this vacation paradise. Yet the guests were not happy. The cuisine? Excellent, I later learned. The people? Delight- ful. No apparent reason in the world for the depression. It was cool and a nipping little breeze rustled in from the hills and scampered up and down the spacious porches. I had just driven up and the look of disappointment on the face of each vacationist surprised Don’t Cure Boys me. “What's wrong here?” I asked the dusky bell-hop who rushed out for my bags. “It’s a The poor devil is drowning—throw him an anchor. beautiful spot and looks like a thizin’ with their friends in town. — sleepin’ every night under at least fine hotel. I can’t quite under- But ‘bout an hour ago the mail two blankets. You know how | stand the mourning.” came up from the city and then — that hurts when you's. spendin’ He led me to one side and +++ and then...” Poor fellow, — fifty dollars a week to keep cool whispered, “I'll tell you, boss, he was overcome, and could go no in the mountains, ch, bos The folks has been sittin’ ’round further. I managed to soothe his I sized up the’ situation in an | here with sweaters on all weck grief with the aid of two bits and instant, and as I walked the wa Beh aleepine Fe continued: instant, and as walked up the and at night th porch steps [ jovially said, “Gee, under blankets. They’s been con- “Well, boss,” he added, “the I'm glad to be here, folks. It’s | themselves on bein’ folks in town writes that it’s so sweltering in the city. The ther- | y from the city durin’ the hot cool down in the big city that mometer— registered _ ninety-five yeather and they’s been sympa- — they’s wearin’ heavy clothes and when I left last night and. the people are sleeping in the parks - for relief. The pavements are melting, the dogs are and the weather fo oing mad | aster prom- ises no relief.” In an instant every face wreathed in smiles. "The br rames started up again. click of croquet mallets punctu- | ated the silence. ‘The happy voices of boys and girls came from the tennis courts and, as if in sympathy with the universal the hotel orchestra struck upaj tune. Oh, St. Peter, Keeper of Heavenly Records, forgive me! ih, —Anrtuer L, Lirem N “Do you know anything about wets farming?” Oprimisr—IWomen can no longer hide any physical defects. “Well, I know how to complain ; Pessimist—But, they say that she has false teeth. about the weather.” comicbooks.com