Judge — March 1, 1930 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

Safeguard America’s Flug! By S. J. Perelman er since the Clark and McCul- 4 lough expedition opened up the Northwest and Baton Rouge was admitted into the Union upon ment of sixty dotted pickerel per an- num (what is commonly called the “Louisiana Perches”) intelligent vot- ers have viewed with increasing alarm the growing shortage of raw flug. Vernon Trimble, vice-president of the North American Flug Converters’ As- sociation, estimates in his own dull way that less than four tons of flug JUDGE were sold during the fiseal y ing March 9th. He further insinu- ates that one reason for the fiscal year ending March 9th instead of March 15th was undoubtedly faltering flug production. This means that each man, woman, and child in the country had less than three ounces of flug at his disposal during January. Small wonder, then, that alarmed little groups of thoughtful citizens have been shaking their heads ominously in the laboratories in Grand Central Station. It is time to call a halt, Mr. Average Flug Consumer. For the bencfit of those who are ig- LOVE SENDS A LITTLE GIFT OF MOSES, CLOWNED CLEO I know you can’t stomach rubies, Queen Elizabeth, but try this one on your stomacher. the Spirit of Education. “Now what do you know about Keats snapped “You oughta ask me old lady; she raised seven of ‘em!” cross-fired the customary Johnny. Maybe ‘I should! have held this over till next week—held it over a slow fire, I should have held it. norant of the nature of flug, a defini- tion will not come amiss. 1 grayish, woolly fluff which collects be- neath beds after a few days great demand by demons vacuum-cleaners in shop windows. one time America possessed great nat- ural flug resources, but since the aboli tion of beds in 1919 by the Watel Ward Soci and the New York So- ciety for the Suppression of Vice, the wistful herb has been in exile. No flug worthy of the name could breed under a table or chair; and such flug as has been found ckly and neu- rasthenic. To illustrate few days ago I happened to drop into the hard- ware store on Evans Street, at the corner of Lupino Lane, for kilter. “We're mitted the good toda some all out of kilter, sir.” clerk. “The flug is very Would you care to try : heard it's sickly and neuras- thenic,” I hedged. “It is,” confessed Jessup hope- lessly. “I just wanted to see if I could stick you with it. You look like an casy mark.” “I Know it.” I despaired. “Do you suppose it’s these I'm wear- ing? They're covered with oatmeal all the time. “LT think it's your face in general.” hazarded Jessup affab “Or maybe your green mackinaw there. I don't think you dress nattily.” “How can I?" I defended. “Such a business, trying to dress that girl. She fights like a tiger; she fights if you even put a kimono on-her. A great kid, Natalie, but wilful! Oh, my!" “Oh, my what?” demanded Jessup suspiciously. “Oh, my sses talie,” I replied. “Ss got that fug wrapped up he clerk looked down at the parcel boys at the end of the store. “Oh, Tempora, oh, Morris!" he shouted. “Is the gentleman's pack- age ready?” “What gentleman?” pora, “What package? “This package here in the green mackinaw,” replied Jessup sternly, and he turned to me. “Didn't you bring a gentleman in here to be wrapped? Before we go any further, I think you'd better sign the register.” “But we haven't any baggage,” I hesitated. The clerk looked at me skeptically and, summoning the hotel detective, whispered significantly in his ear. “No baggage, hey?” scowled the (Continued on page 31) called Tem- comicbooks.com