Judge — January 9, 1932 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

Youne Lawven (impressively )—Rest assured, my dear sir, I shall consider the JUDGE successful handling of your case the taxk of my life. A NEW CRISIS Mor" of those bored gentlemen you see wandering about ay ur exclusive clubs are more to be pitied than envied. They represent a new unemployment problem that has al- ready added several grey hairs to President Hoover's head. These idle ing to direct ntlemen in distress are directors with noth- icy are like engineers without locomotives or six-day bieycle riders without bikes. Every time a cor- poration gocs out of business, from five to fifty skilled directors are thrown out of work into the cheerless gl of club lobbies. Unskilled in any other line of work, they wander hither and thither, hopefully scanning the “new incorporations” pages of the morning newspapers. But most of the in- trepid firms tha starting up now have little need for professional dircetors. oy Se behind the walls of costly Park Avenue apartments, sit thousands of skilled directors toying with platinuin watch chains and hoping that the ringing of the telephone will bring them the only kind of work they know, But the calls never come And, as soft-footed butlers draw the satin dra ht the cloissonne lamps, the soothing balm of sleep often brings surcease to the unem- ployed. In their dreams again they see the paneled Diree- tors’ Room with its oil paintings of past presidents, its water carafes, its boxes of pure Havana fifty-cent cigars, its merry afternoons of dividend declaring, merging and melon cutting. Wake up, America! Take care of your ‘unemployed di- rectors slowly perishing of acute boredom! Antucer Liepwann “My little girl never drinks cocktails—do { you suppose she could have a shot of some- thing straight?” comicbooks.com