Judge — December 21, 1929 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE Do Your Christmas Necking Now By S. J. Perelman “ tr daughter—an awful boot O ter es tomorrow for Sweetbread Agricultural College to begin her freshman year. She knows nothing of petting, for she was learning needlework and healthy outdoor games when she should hz over her Decameron, Stekel, and Freud. her parents—awful boobies but still her her what she ought to know about petting? help us out of our quarry Do not smile and flick an infinitesimal speck of ash from vour sleeve, Mr. Sophisticated Man of the World. You may loll in your handsome fiacre or brioche, sucking liqueur candics whilst’ your obscquious valet smears your lapels with sheik lure to tempt the unwary country girl on her way to college. For the above is only one of a torrent of besceching letters which has sprinkled in dur- ing the past month, Breathes there a father or mother who has not lain awake sleep- less nights w y, but still our daugh- been panting How p n we, nts—tell Won't you ndering how to keep their daughter. petting safely outdoors in the fresh air instead of straining her eyes over musty tomes? Let uy take the bull of petting squarely by the horns, so to speak. If I were the father of your daughter—and who knows, perhaps?—I would take her . the should nd I'd say, reda,” I'd say, “Freda, pet ‘em all, Don't wrinkle up your pretty snub nose just be- Yale Yale cause he shakes the ashes or delivers the ginger ale and cracked ic at way lies snobbery and class-conscious- ness. Look at me, Freda,” I'd say, “I started on a shoe- string twenty years ago. God, will I ever forget it? A little knot of men huddled over a fantastic condenser in a frame house in Menlo Park, tense, expectant. Outside the world waited; and when I straightened up, in my hand I held the first incandescent chocolate-covered peanut-bar. Freda,” I'd say, “I had to do a lot of necking to invent that bar, but when I look at you I sometimes wonder if it was worth it.” That's what I'd tell my daughter, men; I'd tell her just what fathers have been telling their daughters ever since Moses spieled the members of his mob and handed out the free headache tablets on Mount Sinus, It’s just part of the job of being a father, men; it’s just that feeling of wonderful exaltation and that glow of pride and love you get when you first look at that warm, furry bundle in your wife’s arms and realize that the cat’s been sleeping on your dress shirts and you got to go to the theatre in a flannel shirt and tuxedo. I tell you, men, it’s—it’s—oh, how shall I say it?—oh, shucks, he said boyishly, twisting the brim of his hat, Ah, jes’ want yo'-all to k » Ellen, that Al’ll be right hyah waitin’ in Mufti, Gawgia, while yo'-all’s makin’ yo’ mahk in Randolph-Macon an’ atin’ with all them quality folks.” No, I hear you saying, college is the place for study, let Golda neck when she comes home next summer. Next summer! Next summer! Where would Mark Antony have been if Cleo had said let's save our necking till next summer? Do you think Casanova sat around ng for the warm weather? Maybe you think Barbara Frietchie finished wav Old Glo and then hur a sign reading, , | —Pk W Listen, bab gazine— Well, anyway, you're going to have a swell Christmas at your home, you ¢ Golda will barge in with a snarl like a wolf, and when you try to chuck her under the c she'll chuck you under the sink (Continued on page *soci- se Root Beer Chart showing decrease of petting among college girls since passage of the Grosset and Burlap Law 9