Judge — April 12, 1930 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Bobbies Blench as Statues Scram— Whalen Weaves Drag-Net While Culprits Cringe! By S. J. Perelman N™ Yorn, April 10.—Commis- +% sioner Whalen, head of Pw York’s finest, pushed his way this morning through the hubbub at the corner of 46th Street and Broadway and found four of his chief inspectors, Mulvaney, Mulroon Muleahy, and Mulmoscowitz, scratching their heads with aghastment writ large on their countenances. Above them loomed the impressive grandeur of the I Shoe Company. skysers were the statues of Mari Ethel Barrymore Miller, ford Miller, and Rosa Ponselle Mi which had hung like frozen music in the niches of the I, Miller Hall of JUDGE Fame. In their stead four blue-coated patrolmen posed dangling bunches of cherries and playing the lute. A re- bellious crowd, held back by riot guns, was fraught with excitement and slowly growing fraughter. Omnious cries of “ ack our statues!” and “Have our s feet of ¢ fell on the Commissioner's cars hung there sparkling. “It’s those niche plained Mulmoscowitz wearily. “No matter how many times we spray that building with henbane and fleabanc, them niches come back. And now the statues are gone. I'm at a los “I'm at a loss, too, chief!" added Mulcahy quickly, not to be outdone. “Good work, men,” praised the Commissioner quietly. “This — will mean promotion for you.” He made a note in his diary, “Mulmoscowitz and Mulcahy at a loss—promote to nd = ~ _7 ~~ PARDON MY GLUB, MISTER! GURGLED THE GORILLA I just Hearn you Gimbel every cent you make on the races; still it's better than having Saks rear its ugly head. “Hey, bo, whaddye think of those new lily-cups?” snickered a scum: “La-de-dah!” chaffed the churl, “they'll be having us spitting on our hands wit? an eye- dropper pretty soon!” Quite well, thank you, and what has become of all those jokes about boarding-house hash? spear-bearers in Mayor's bodyguard,” and beckoned to Inspector Mullaly, who had just arrived on the scene. “Whom do you suspect, Mullaly?” he queried. Mullaly — in- name he had replied he “Mullaly!” reproached Mr. Whalen, “don’t you know he’s up in Northamp ton writing a five-hundred-word his tory of our country Come, try Mullaly pointed to « + furtive man with a bulging overcoat on the outskirts of the crowd. He was ar- rested, but no statues were found con- 1 on him, “s got three dirty books under his coat, chief,” reported Muleahy. “Arrest him! barked the Commis- sioner. “Here, Mulvaney, stop stuff- ing leaves from those books in your pockets! Is this a police force depravery? ‘This will mean deporta- tion, men.” He gave a quick order to and the blushing pair were ceal roa his deported. “Mulmoscowit roared Whalen “Where's that Mulmoscowit “Please, sir, he’s somewhere t-footer. , shouted the Com missioner. “Pound on the door and sce if you can get him out! Does that dope think nobody else wants to get in there? Hey, Mulmoscowitz! Come out of there bout letting some body else " “He si n the en. “Shav- Did you Shaving?” bellowed W ing on the company's tim ever hear anything like th “Oh, ish ka bibble, I should worry,” retorted the roundsman_ petulantly, and he began to hum: “I should worry, I should care, 1 should marry @ millionaire; “He should die, I should cry, 1 should marry another guy!” “You're like all the rest of them, O'Toole,” said Whalen sadly. “Blow- ing hot one minute and cold the next. Now, blow hot,” he ordered. The cop- per blew hot. “Now cole * commanded the Com- o, colder than that. cep on blowing.” Thin sture began to congeal a!l over Mr. Whalen, and in a jiffy he was caked with ice. The appalled crowd wrung its hands helplessly zed his predicament. An tube was lowered to the plucky polic« chief, who whispered that he was still alive but that his oxygen supply was (Continued on page 31) comicbooks.com