Judge — January 18, 1930 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

How Love Came to Dudley Crud By S. J. Perelman The amphitheatre of the great op- erating room of the Titus Peritonitis Memorial Hospit the Borough of Spleens was slowly filling with dis- tinguished physicians who gravely conferred and nodded _ the! Van Dykes in agreement. Yes, it was to be a memo Dudley Crud, the brilliant young surgeon, was to perform a compound parsimony, most difficult of gall operations, on peppery old Senator Culpepper. “ZT tell you, man, it's a human im- possibility!" Dr. Jakob, discoverer of the ob test, sputtered — testily. “You can't divide all the gall into three parts!” able morning. “That remains to be sple re- marked Henri Matisse, the noted podi- atrist) with arch glance. “But where is Crud? He should have been here ten minutes ago, n Dr. Dudley Crud’s colleagues would have been surprised to learn that the reason for his delay was a sentimental one. Scarcely a gallstone’s throw from where they stood Beatrice Bull- pas?” JUDGE finch, the hospital's prettiest nurse, was busily adjusting Dr. Crud’s mask and apron, As she finished he took her in his arms and kissed her ten- derly. “it’s for you, Beatrice,” he said softly, inhaling the fragrance of the iodoform in her hair. “If the opera- tion is successful, will you become Mrs. Crud “Yes, Dudley,” she consented. “I thought for a while that 1 ed for Dr. Ralph Treadwell, but I am now convinced that he is a cad.” As they embraced they did not notice that the door had opened. Sorry, Crud,” they Treadwell’s sneering voice. intruding on your private practic Crud’s flushed and only his self- restraint prevented him from teaching Treadwell a lesson in manners. He pressed Beatrice’s hand hard and left. In the hush of the amphitheatre the awed disciples of Hippocrates watched the deft Crud as his long, delic fingers flashed in and out of Culp pet's colon and semi-commas. what a technician!” verdict of all « can you heard Dr. ‘Am I was the unspo the frowning youn HUSH MONEY PAPA’S BRIBING THE BULLS QUICKLY QUIETED MBS. QUILT It may not be so easel, but I'll fizatif you ink it’s the best way out. - “Charming place this,” barked Mellish to Hellish as they strolled through the rooms of Monticello. for lunch yesterday,” “See the old wing?” “Yeh, had it maundered the momzer. specialist measured and severed the gall into equal portions, discarded two of them and skilfully substituted small packets of lavender sachet. At his elbow the jealous Treadwell, relegated to a minor réle, scowlingly prepared scalpels and scissorels for future use. A few moments later Crud had neatly hemstitched his initials in Culpepper’ abdomen in accordance with the time- honored rule, “Every good craftsm signs his work,” and was bein; artily congratulated by his con- fréres, boy,” felicitated Dr. Pi ognized authority on for mestic galls. “What a touch! You are——" A stern voice interrupted his words, Crud turned to find the senior house physician regarding him severely, nd do “Dr. Crud,” he said, “a serious turn of events has transpired. Dr, Tread well has just counted the sponges, and three of them are missing. Unless you hand them over of your own free will, I Shall be compelled to have you searched.” Dudley blanched under the accusation. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Treadwell’s sneering visage. He attempted to protest, but could find no words. Excited whis pers spread among the distinguished physicians, and they stroked their Van Dykes with knitted brows. A. serious charge, this sponge-theft, on the eve of a young man’s success. “Your silence is confession of your guilt, Dr. Crud,” said the senior phy sician with an effort. “It pains me to say so, but you return the sponges within two minutes, I shall give the order to have your Van Dyke shaved, your lancet broken, and your rank demoted to that of night or derly.” A gasp of pity was. wrung from the tense group of ward-heale No voice broke the silence, and sorrowful voice the senior physician commanded lather Crud’s face. The razors had hardly been poised when an agitated feminine ery turned all heads toward the door- wi There stood Beatrice Bullfinch, holding three sponges in her hand. “Dudley is blameless of the theft, Dr. Huncker,” she absolved. “I hap- pened to hear a suspicious wheeze from Senator Culpepper just now, and when I opened his stitches these sponges scampered out!” A laugh of relief swept over the gathering at this unexpected turn of affairs which re- pudiated Crud. “There, there, my boy, I apologi murmured Dr. Huneker, quickly pl ing his arm (Continued on page unless two nurses to comicbooks.com