Judge — October 8, 1927 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

HENEVER a woman of distinction or cul- ture in this country or Europe wishes to wear in public Pearls competent to conceal the fact that her genuine oriental pearls are locked up at home, it is always Tecla that is called upon to solve the problem for her. Tecla permits the maxi- mum in jewel display with the minimum of risk. Tecla creations are avail- able only at the stores listed in this advertisement. A Tecla Necklace for Twenty-five dollars. Frank R. Jelleff, f Frederick and Nelson « Ohio J, L. Hudson Company + Kaufmann's + - - LaSalle & Koch + > - Levy Bros. Dry Goods Co., Lebeck Bros + + + + Ne McCurdy & Co., Inc. + Rochester, N.Y. Meier & Frank + Portland, Ore. Miller & Rhoads, Inc, » Richmond, Va. Mermod-Jaccard ‘& King, Hot Springs, Ar Mermod-Jaccard & King, St. Louis, Mo. Scruggs, Vandervoort & Barney, St. Louss, fo, R. H. Stearns Company - Boston, Mass. TheT. Eaton Co., Ltd., Toronto, Montreal The Highee Co. - - + Cleveland, Ohio The White House + San Francisco, Cal. Indianapolis, Ind. Columbus, Ohio Co., Kansas City, Kilpatrick © Company, 398 Fifth Avenue London Berlin Paris —Lonpon Opinion Judging the Movies (Continued from page 18) back sharply, “we stand at atten- tion whenever we feel like it. Be- sides, what kind of a patriot are his ain’t a drill ground,” my friend responded kindly; “this is a railroad station.” forced to admit he had re, but I was not going to m have the last word. Maybe,” I questioned, think- ing quickly, “you could tell me all about ‘Soft Cushions,’ you’re so well informed.” The fellow dropped his head in embarrassment and eyed me morosely. “All I said,’ he mumbled, shuffling away sullenly, “was that this ain’t no drill ground. And it ain't.” I meant to call him back and tell him that I had not seen ‘Soft Cushions” either when the bugle again sounded through the hollow erns of the Pennsylvania. I looked around for the assembling army, but the only militant per- son in sight was the bugler—a lone figure in a faded blue uni- form lustily sounding off from the distant peak of a marble stairway, It was still ten minutes before my train was due; so, hailing a cab, I dashed across the station and landed at the foot of the stair in time to catch the de- scending bugler. He was a well- proportioned, red-faced man with the he: jowls of a retired fox- hunter, and I liked him imme- diately. “Well,” I hailed him cheerily, “where is the army “T don’t know.” “Oh, I see. More marines for I suppose?” tional Guard, mayb The man was so exasperatingly reticent, I questioned him out- “What’s the idea of the 22 comicbooks.com