Judge — March 1, 1930 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

Another American Tragedy Tit great popular novelist had come to the crowning effort of his career. He was going to give to the world a book of burning love that would live forever. On a little tropical island, far from the paths of ships and the haunts of men, he had built a cabin and stocked it with provisions. Here, in a paradise of flowers and sunshine, he would ob- tain that blissful state of seclusion so necessary to sustained creative thought. The novel was going to be a wow. Far away on the horizon a rapidly disappearing trail of smoke marked the departure of the ship which had brought him to his haven of solitude. He watched it until it had vanished. It would not return for six months. Lovingly he unpacked the new type- writer he had brought along, inserted a clean sheet of paper into his task. For seve moments there was no sound in that vast still- ness save the clatter of the keys. Suddenly that stopped. A look of horror came into his eyes. The color fled from his face. He slumped for- ward in his folding chair and groaned. After a time he arose and y unsteadily to the brow of a r y cliff. Far, far below he could see the waves breaking madly against the foot of the precipice and the fins of sharks circling in the blue waters. He clenched his fists. It was the only way out. Shuddering he returned to his type- writer and for some moments searched Hy about the keyboard. Alas! vas fruitless. Sobbing, he tied the heavy instrument to his neck- tie. Thus encumbered, he staggered back to the cliff’s edge. Then with a wild scream of despair he plunged outward and downward to the wait- ing sharks. Some nitwit in the typewriter fac- tory had forgotten to put the asterisk on the machine. Asia Kacowan With Delicatessen Fillings Even though the modern wife doesn’t make bread like mother used to make, she makes more sandwiches. Another thing that prohibition’s done for us, it’s taken the drunkards out of the saloons and put them in the salons. Lucky Strikes are good for timid people. Smoke them and you won't be afraid of your own shadow. Ga. “le iA % Yee | “T feel so safe with the children here. Away from the horses and automobiles.” “Lover, come back to me.” comicbooks.com