Judge — September 8, 1928 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE The great Diet Mar- athon of the Century had been drawing ca- pacity houses to the Madison Square Gar- den for four whole weeks before IT over- came my prejudice and purchased a ticket. The very idea of a full grown man sitting down side by side in a hun contest with a Cat and a Clam = struck me as downright unpardon- able. I had inherited a strict code of social ethics from my father, who felt very strongly on such matters. But as I entered the tecming, cheering auditorium, the last ves- tige of my prejudice died away. Impressively arranged in the cen ter of the saw-dust arena sat a tableau of three splendid figures that will live in my memory for- ever. 1 readily recognized the imposing form of Jacques Pom- mefritte from his pictures. My pulse quickened as I remembered his record... how he had spr from an obscure member of the Fasting Club de France into the ranks of the immortals by dicting a whole monastery of monks under the table during an exhibi- tion bout down in Italy. Beside him sat Aethel- stan the Clam, majestic of mien, but much thin- ner and paler, poor fel- low, than he had seemed in his photos. To the extreme right sat Baum- grass the C. repre- senting the alley cats end kittens of — the Bronx. Intently noting their every counter grave-faced judge. No sooner had I found my seat when I felt my arm grasped in a vise-like grip of steel. It was the spectator to my right. “Look he trembling with gr excitement. “LOOK! They're The Great Diet Derby By Dr. Seuss sprint!” TI shot a glance at the contestants and, sure enough, they were preparing for one of those gruelling spurts of dict that rack and torture the sturdicst of bodies. The Frenchman had initiated it all with a challenging squint at his rivals. They braced themselves for the ordeal 1 one looking straight id with a new-born expression of absolute unhappiness. They're all thinkin, thing good te of some- * explained the gentleman beside me. A shudder ran through my body at the very thought. From the terrible con- vulsions that captivated — the Frenchman's features, I could trace his painful course through ea Host—I have a new bootlegger, so 1 don’t know ng about this stuff. his imaginary banquet. His most intense suffer- ing took place whenever he finished his cheese and demi-tasse and was foreed to start all over again with the soup. Down in front, the for tunate holders of ring- side seats could see the ill-nourished body of the hunger-fraught clam writhe and twist as the poor fellow — concen- trated upon whatever it is clams concentrate upon, And the lines and furrows of the kit ten's grim brow grew deeper and deep At first I tried to look away. I covered my face and tried to think of far away things... green fields, blue skies... but to no avail. The fascinating horror of the sp s drew my eves bac And then, sudden. a fan! An atavistic surge of savage emotion swept over me. I found myself learkening to the primitive man within, and I lent my voice to the deafening din of the thousands. lam I heard myself shricking. “Go it, clam boy, GO IT!" The clam was obviously the favorite. Every- where men were buying clam buttons to affix to their lapels. Jaunty blue banners em- blazoned with “Clam” swished through the air to the catchy rhythm of the big brass band whieh blatantly 1 the Clam Son, s to the pmed out “Sturdy Clam behind you Keep it up! Let noth- ing blind you e're all To your great inspired ambition! Fight, Clam, FIGHT, unto perdition! Responding to the cheers of his backers, Frirxp—That’s all right; I'll try anything ten or ‘he brave little mollusk going to twelve times, (Continued on page 24) comicbooks.com