Judge — May 31, 1930 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

Getting Back to Our Census By S. J. Perelman \ nr. W. M. Stevan, = Director of the Census. Dear Sir: Noth United States g much has hap- pened since I received your note in 1920, except that the brass knobs on the bed-posts got loose in 1923 and attled every time I snored and a s family moved in with us the atter part of 1927. The Swiss are ¢ SO JUDGE clean you could eat off the floor; in fact, we serapped our table a year rad a doily on the floor, and have been there ever since, except, of course, when we go to bed, For that we just slip a pillow under our heads, crawl under the table-cloth, and cork off. The only trouble with eating there is that ants get into the food, but we overcame that by gi food and just making passes air with spoons. ago, sp You asked in this year’s census re- out of a job. Well, Mr. Steuart, last August Thad a good job baking pork pies in a place on Sprowl Street. 1 worked there two weeks, but the plac: closed down when the pork struck for less money and loi We gave in to their demands because we needed them for 4 job, fifty poisoned pork pies for a man who wanted to do away with his grand mother. She used to beat him cruelly with swatches of gingham when he was a child, so he poisoned her. You wer hours. spe lovely people—they kept the pls port what reasons I have for being would do the same under the circum- stances yourself, Mr. St not compress your lips uart, so do a thin line. I thought our troubles were over then, but September 10th, machines were introduced. The boss called me in and said, “We are not going to use any more pork in the pies; we will use machines instead.” 1, “The consumers 2 f machines will get in the he would not listen; he turned a deaf ear to me, and I went back to ovens. Well, about a week later a man named Burton R. al came in, beside himself with rage. “This a fine thing to find in a pork pie!” he glowered, hurling a small mechanism on the counter. “What do you mean by messing up my tecth with twelve-jewel ments and hairspring: “Why, what is the matter with it?” I flashed, my arms akimbo. “The matter?” shricked Rascal. “It’s bad enough finding a clock in, a pork pie without it losing ten minutes aday! I have been late at the faucet- works three days running!” “Well, Mr. Rascal,” I gnarled ir- ritably, “it's no wonder. Anybody who goes into a tub without taking off his small mechanism from his wrist erves to have trouble. You cannot hob with your eyes and eat it How would you like YOUR sister to marry a Chinaman?” Sure enough, when I got him under my ophthalmoscope, I found he had been treating his eyes at home reading dirty novels. i prescribed a Number four lens and he went out. A week ago that same man came in. His eves 2 were red and swollen and he looked i happy. | MAYBE THEY’LL EAT CUB-CAKES! 1 tc ste sr tant Ds SUGGESTED THE GORILLA TRAINER which used to trouble my is just : Slip into your teddy-bear, boykins, and we'll have a dreat bid nassy move- eee a gray blur now and I can hardly see the pages.” pillow-fight. Voicr. rrom tHE Hispano—“Grimes, have you filled the Well, fellows, there's just one il- gas tank?” Gnimes—“Yes, Lady Gilfinch.” V. ynom tHe H.— “Well, empty it at once, I’ve decided not to go shopping.” The only lustration out of hundreds of what can be done with a little tact on the part of the average porous plaster t trouble with those front-row seats is you get your nose scratched by | the cut-steel buckles. (Continued on page 32) > comicbooks.com