Judge — April 5, 1930 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

\AIG IH High Hat Trail D eAR Normal Reader and Miss Spence’s Chillun: Only yester- day Harry Thaw, or maybe it was Mrs. Astor, phoned and asked for some ideas on how to put in full evening. Accordingly Mac « got out our Boy Scout manuals and blazers and went to work axing out some High Hat Trails or How to Avoid Peaceful Evenings at Home. This is the first of them and is prof- fered as the ultra-respectable night- out, especially designed for the fam- ily man, women who demand only the best, lovers of ballroom-style dancing and all those who like to feel as stiff and aloof as Constance Ben- nett. The first stop will be the Club de Tunnel for pretzels and potato-chips at five-thirty, the Dinner Spoiling Hour. Met at the door by someone no less than a re- served Grover Whalen, you'll be mushed through miles of red plush carpet upstairs to heaven via the Yacht Club Boys. Pass them quickly and give them no incentive ever to break into close harmony. Up, up you will go past authentic Old Masters until you reach a room with a long counter and a shiny place for your feet. Here gentlemen-in-white will place, for a terrific consideration, old pewter bowls of piping pretzels and gold platefuls of crackling potato-chips ae what. THE YACHT CLU3 Pars” SING CLOSE HARMONY before you. A number of their nut sundaes will eventually seat you on a gyroscope, and my how soft the air will feel. From here, if you haven't left enough to pay off the mortgages on the place, find your way to Le Mirliton at lt 8 for dinner. The doorman who stands ‘neath its canopy is so snooty he uses a small assistant to open taxi doors, and touches nothing but cars in the $20,000 class. Le Mirliton is small, beautifully Elsie- de-Wolfed and has little hideaway nooks if you a that kind. The food is the gour- met’s duck soup, while the service is Hotel New Yorke t four waiters tend you. And so, genu- inely a stuffed shirt, away to the theatr. “F High” will be the for reasons Master Nathan has given for its excellenc the girls are knee-plus-ultra, and Bert Lahr is so good two-a-day comedians are giving up work in order to study Lahr. Time out for an alibi. The next move is given against all shoutings to least at- cherce, mai the effect that night clubs are dead but don’t know it. But since this is a rip as respectable as a Tory’s night- shirt, on you must whirl to the Club Lido for some night's clean fun and a good place to keep your dress-shirt front clea Moss and ooze around the nce-floor like a couple of feathers on the Barvey GALLaaT LEAVES HIP OWA NIGHT CUB AT APREE AIM 9 loose; Bee Lillie and her usual sure- fire routine is royal entertainment; there are no choruses saved over from the old Pre Catalan; the dance num- bers aren't marathon endurance tests; and the dance-floor is small. Then to Barney's at two-thirty to catch the last half-hour of the show there, the best last half-hour in town, everything being closed up by that time. Bob and Muriel Johnston a new song (No!!!) “Bananas Aren't Ripe Enough to Fry,” and have lost all control by that time anyway. Or, if you can get Barney sent home at (Continued on page 32) comicbooks.com