Judge — December 20, 1930 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE An Open Letter to Virginia Creeper Virginia Creeren Corset Co., 718 Firra Avence, D:' at Miss Crreven Iwas a little pained last Wednes- day at. the letter. Of course my hips have been sagging, though I didn’t think it was ll the way up there on Fifty- fifth Street. But you don't find me writing horrid little sniggering notes to people hooting at their hips. Hip for hip, L can out-run, out-dance. out think, out-wrestle, and out-throw you I can whip you with one hip tied be- hind me—if you buy the whip, that i you won't catch me spending anytl on you, you old buzzard. I suppose you think that last corset you sold me was just the ’ Well, let me tell’ you something. took three ushers from the Hunting Room of the Paramount to lace me into it, and when we counted the boys there were only two, So then they had to unlace me and untangle the usher who had got stuck in the whale You must come up to. the house for some barb wire soup and tack fritters some evening, dear Miss Cre Of course I wouldn't think of com plaining about the fit of the corset No, indeed; it fitted me like a glove, exeept that it stuck up over my coat collar in back. I could stand that, only one night I went to the Hippo nda Greek, he was sitti behind me and eating salt-water taffy, insinuating tone of your visible lones. drome, kept placing the wax papers in it. I said to him, can’t go anywhere without one of you It's getting so a man mashers castin: le eves on him Lama respectable father of six chil dren with) shady and a heavy contributor to the anti-Harry Hansen fund, Iy that suthcient or will I have to call an attendant?” He said, “T must have made a mista I couldn't see you in the dark. [ thought you Was a ri ‘ connections eptacl I was furious I said, “I'll give you a re ceptacle TM give you.” We argued the matter pro and ¢ gave in and I gave him a re Well, sir. I don’t like to bre with him. “You'll have to wait two minutes, gentlemen, started his column, 18 Kin Brorien— Mey tieo- seram—I'm laying for Santa Claus! you Mr. Coolidge just is getting out-of-town stations on that never heard before. Yesterday he was sipping an Orang: Julius and listening to the Slendo Foamers under the direction of Alex- ander Foundoukidis, playing “You're a Pane in My Window of Dreams,” when there was a kind of scratching noise, and when he recovered con sciousness he found he was first prize winner in a contest conducted by the Hanemann Meat Market, corner Push Place and Norris Avenue, and a few minutes later he received a bushel of oats with the compliments of the sta- receptacle he comicbooks.com