Judge — January 31, 1931 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

THE GOOD Tune was 1, facing the fire—my gouty foot outstretched to catch the smallest atom of warmth. And there was my nephew, blue eyes aglow, hanging eagerly on every word that I spoke. Ah, thought I, this was the penalty and the pleasure of age. To have to sit by—that’s pain—but to have memories of days gone by, ah! “Tell me more, Uncle,” pleaded iny ly. nephew, breathle “Well, Wally I said, “I guess there really isn’t much more to tell. The principles of life, after all, v practically the same. Of course, we didn’t have the refinements and im- provements that have been invented; but we struggled along—and, if I may say so, we got along pretty well. In fact, I think that the men bred in those days were a sturdier stock than your generation.” “T expected that,” my nephew said. JUDGE OLD DAYS “You need more discipline,” I said. “I’m going to tell your mother.” “She's out dancing,” said the neph- urry on, Uncle.” Sports were about the same as they are today. We had our idols of foot ; baseball, and we uttered the same kind of complaints concerning the boxing game. It was crooked. . . .’ “Tt still is.” “T can still read the papers,” I said a trifle sternly, “even though I do scem to you to be rathe old fogey.” “You don’t seem much of a foge said Wally, but he didn’t bother to tell me just what I did scem like. “Finances.” 1 murmured, and 1 groaned. “In my time fortunes were made and lost in a month, a week, a day. Th to think of it, it’s identic these days.” h, come “Say, Jenny—I wonder what happened to them initials I carved here forty years ago?” “No more than you,” I said. “I don’t have much of a chance.” not?” 1, I haven't enough .. . I knew it! He was going to put the bee on me! But I'd let myself in for it, so I gave him ten. We old fel- lows talk too much anyhow. “Be careful, young fella,” I said. “T will. I got a date. And with the cutest girl—a dancer on the I mount-Publix stage show.” “Oh,” I said, and I was going to give him hell; but I held back. Mem- ories held me, For I could remember when I, I too, had passed the grand passion with that sweet in “Strike Up the Band.” Will the good old days of 1930 ever return? —Davin S. Lenman comicbooks.com