Judge — April 5, 1930 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE Troubadour Fumes at Naval warships, looked daggers at Mr. Love You, I Love You, I Love You, Parley; Fleischmann as the latter, who is I Love You” when a shower of old tating for a yeast booth on destroyers vegetables, sceptres, Peers of the Vallee, Bernie, Whiteman and submarines, entered the courtyard Realm and Knights of the Bath de- Clash ! of the palace. seended from an upper window. : “Go lay an egg!" snarled Fleisch- “What kind of a racket do you By S.J. Perelman mann. ake a walk! Sissy! Crooner!” mugs think you're making?" shouted The last insult was too much for Val- the enraged voice of the Crown Prince lée and he sprang at the throat of from above. “A Hanover can't lock Fleischmann, Bystanders intervened — himself up in his own home without with the ar- and peace was restored, with the 4 bundle of organ-grinders has to at St. James's of Rud orchestra leader's concession that camp on his lap!" Throwing Windsor nd his Connecticut Yenkizz. Fleischmann could sing every other 4 dirty look and a few of the vege and his men, who are here to song through his megaphone. Vallée tables. the Yenkizz and Vallée retired fight the distribution of yeast broth on had scarcely raised his baton for “I into the conference chamber, Bernie. Ww an, and their units had arrived, the meeting was called to order. Dissension began once when White offered to se two saxophone players if the other bands would give up a piccolo-player ch. The piccolo-players. withdrew body to a corner of the hall to rumin Afte had finished ruminating—a long and tedious proc- ess, for like all ruminants, a piccolo: player has six stomachs—their spokes- mana ; y were each xophone pl . In e tor arose in the y and. shoute t piccolo-p vr is a dirty compound word !” “Who called that piccolo-player a dirty compound word?” Whiteman, narrowing his brows as possible for White riposted the voice in the gallery. chairman ordered the gallery searched, but no- body could be found there. He con fessed that his name was Ted Lewis and was promptly ousted. The oust ing seemed to have no effect on him, so he was put out and the meeting resumed. A. crisis again seemed imminent when discussion arose over the size of the holes allowed in the hoops of snare drums, and it looked as though there would be a rift in the lute. Sure enough, the querulous voice of the late-player was soon heard. “Miss Bernie,” he began calling with upraised hand, “oh, Miss Bernic. Ooh-hoo, Miss Bernie. Over here. In “What is it this time, Crisw if Vv CE rebuked Miss Bernie severely. REQUESTED THE USHER IN A LOW VOICE Uilaiteraceiceoe FOR SALE OR LONG LEASE—Three genuine blooded Guernsey ‘There's a rift in the lute, Miss garbage scows. Owner will re-decorate; must be seen to be appre- Bernie,” said Criswell sheepishly. ciated. No Moslems need apply. “Aud is your baby christened, sir?” . t?” cricd Miss Bernie goat- pried an old pill of one of the boys in the shipyards. “Naw,” spat ys “Why didn’t you wake me Beaumarchais Rivet. “The frau’s afraid the bottle might hurt his when it was being divided Criswell head!” You can come out of the ice-bor, dear; it was only the superin- explained patiently that he did not tendent yelling for the rent. (Continued on page 32) comicbooks.com