Judge — September 8, 1928 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

Boonoo, Para, Neco Gave Me tie Gare, Sounen tie Desretep Far Boy Let's part the curtains of the boudoir and dabble in the dirt. “Now that we're married, dearest, 1 must tell you a secret; my left eye is made of glass!” revealed Rosalind. “Laugh it off, simp,” snickered The Lucky Fellow. “So's the diamond in your wedding band!” So lock the doors and call me yours, ’cause you took advantage of me. Mayae It’tt Come to Tits “What the heck?” “Oh, Dad vitaphone new getting the comic strips in the new television- paper.” The Adventures of a Modern Diogenes ones, like the sround looking Only he car- idlepower The modern D. sage of old, went for an honest m. ried a for! rehlight ion st of And, being an honest man him- self, like the sage of old, he also lived in a barrel. He had to. se lantern. There are more people now than there used to be. It would seem, therefore, that the quest would be easier. Paradoxically, the more there are the harder it is to find one. Then, te there's more competition, There is ne use in a fellow taking an unfair advantage of himself by being honest. The modern Diogenes went hered and he was careful not to get his pockets picked. He had no 4 clothes. Inf clothes. All he he rel, and-that was his and permanent. resi The barrel didn’t fit him any too well cither because he was thin, wherever crowds g: ts in his > he had no do was the bar- ttire, trunk Anyway, this fellow going around in the barrel had a lean and hungry look, and that meant a dangerous look. Everybody shunned him. Maybe they were afraid of getting scraped by the barrel, When a fellow 4 through a crowd in a barrel, peo- ple will make way for him. ‘Try it in the subway some time and But, anyway, | n't dis- couraged. He was away past that. Nobody took him seriously. They w, thought he was advertising some- thing. Anybody who walks along the streets in a barrel must be advertising something—if it’s only himself. He looked and looked but with no success, This went on for a long time. He walked up and down the streets in his barrel, from o dof town to the other. But there is an end to everything (except radio programs), and so at length he stopped roaming the streets in his barrel and jumped into the river. It was the only thing he could do: Somebody had finally stolen his barrel. —R. C. O'Bitex comicbooks.com