Judge — August 27, 1927 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

Netting a Champion (Continued from page 14) Her eyes are keen, watchful. The face is firm, a sphinx. It’s as stoic as I am curious about all those loves that Helen has denied she has had. I wonder why she is an amateur instead of a professional. I feel a keen sympathy for self- sacrificir amateurs. They man- pe together only enough around the world. Anc that merely in first-class sty ge to se to travel sporting trifling costly furs and limousines. Amateuring is cer- | | tainly an unprofitable profession. | Too bad one can’t be an amateur caricaturist—and live. * * * Miss ‘I N but your drawing | It is time for the sitting. | Wills said over the phone, be glad to pose must flatter me “L' do my best,” I answer meekly. Here's a tough order. It's a predicament, in fact. I must hold my job and yet be chivalrous to milady. “Now remember, I want you to | flatter me,” she says again as she | poses. | They call her “poker face,” but she smiles. This sleuth discovers expression number one. She sees my drawing. Her eyes open in surprise—expression number two. She laughs at it—expression num- ber three! to the Forest Hills Tennis Club | An autograph. I am to walk with her. “Just a moment,” she “Let me sce how my skirt hangs in the back.” Oh! She steps in front of a full-length mirror... adjusts her hair . checks her looks... all frailties of a frail! says. over Together we walk slowly in the ; summer breeze... . But wait— what! Sniff! Sniff!! I smell seductive perfume. I don't use it. Then she uses it. Hooray! Bravo!! Perfume!! most traditional ment! and allure- Superlative female She’s a woman after all. Tennis is merely her “racket”! EMBARRASSING have overdrawn your ch be nonchalant .. . light « © 1927, P. Lorillard Co., Eat. 1760 Du MOMENTS When the banker informs ye MURAD CIGARETTE MURAD For those who feel entitled to life’s better things a that you account... “D'you know violet rays?” anything about vo, tell me — what's she done?” re Brrs One man’s meat is another man’s poison, and your telephone is anothe man’s wrong number, —Everypopy’s Week.y A Fashionable Complaint Bertie! I'm from matri- Gertie — Poor afraid he monial dyspepsia. -Whatever’s that? suffers Gertie — Oh, you know—his wife doesn’t agree with him. —Sypney Butietin GROCER PARK AVE. NYC comicbooks.com