Judge — February 20, 1932 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

OS ¢ eww ei pee re a Don Me de Payster-— Your letter came today and I hasten. te MU Sa help you in your. plight. Sheriff, a Mr. McGee has e to stay with you at your Park Avenue hous: nding certain settle- ments, and you to keep him con tained, I don’t know Mr. M., bat T have had considerable experiences with Sheriffs. They have lived with me for years, and one has chauffeured for me from time to time. So T feel I can stand you in good stead, and since he will be with you 24 hours a day, I might as well try to plan the itinerary of your activities. The first thing I would suggest is that vou lock your cellar, Tho there is small ¢ we of an officer of the law t x the law of the land, you never can tell what may happen. It is best to keep temptation out of his hands. Drinking, you know, is an ex- pensive, nasty habit. I would suggest that he be given the master bedroom. It will add to his to feel that he is head of Be sure that everything is comfortable for him, providing plenty ars and chewing tobacco at his ide table and copies of the “Prize Hooey”’and “Truc Romances.” You had better put asbestos blankets O° TAKE” THE SHERIFF'S HEARTINESS and counterpanes on the bed and spare your regu- lar ones footmarks and ash burns. Do not her about slippers and pajamas. He will prob- ably sleep in his Mun- singwear and Holeproofs. I wovuLp not) draw a bath for him in’ the morning. Saturday night will be better. Do not be disconcerted if he draws up a chair outside your bathroom while you are taking your own. m: tinal, and enters into jolly conversation with you. It'll just be an act of democracy on his part. The matter of meals is important. You had better lay in’ a large supply of corned beef and cabbage. I would vary this with ham hocks and sauerkraut to be washed down with large tumblers of beer (not near, for heaven's sake). IT would serve these robust dishes three times a d. Don't stand on ctiquette as to whether you ought to have him to meals, because when you get to the he'll prob- ably be there any way. Do not be dis- concerted if he has the serv him comps nother example nial democracy. You must not forget toothpicks — serve them with the demi-tasse. Hovtp you, by any chance, be off to the St. Regis for lunch, don’t forget poor Mr. McGee. Should your friends ques- » tion his presence, and marvel at his eating, take th ide ds explain sotto voice that “He is just a rich old eccentric uncle—one of*the 49ers, you know—I'm his only heir!” Don’t let him h this, of course. At lunch- con, try to entertain him with such conversational WoT Do Yu WE ANT AS BAD “TnK OF DAT Bic" AS DAT Fake BUM SHANKEY? LoxDos! Ms_de Pusee ENERTANS SHERFF ASG) as “Dat big bum Shah- " “Dat fake Londos,” “Are ¢ and “Tam- being over k home with your friends, after on, by all means invite him as a fourth at bridge. If he demurs that he never hoid of the game you might fall in with what he sugyests:—"Pin- ochle” or “Poker.” rf evening, of course, should be devoted entirely to Mr. McGee. Naturally you must give up all thought of evening clothes. As he hasn't any neck (none of those that ever stopped with me had any), his head will set right on his shoulders, and there won't be any place for a high collar. Since he will probably be bored with thoughts of the « ou had better put on your hunting costume and t. him ‘off shooting in. some Sixth Avenue gallery. Be sure y let him break the most clay pipes, Either t or some seats well up near the runway at Minsky’s Republic Bur- lesque. which I think he'd prefer to Minsky’s Winter Garden, the uptown being a shade spic Or, if you stay home. organize ‘some games. “Snap the Handeuffs” would afford him some amusement. This consists of 1 handcuffs on victims and leading them off to jail. Another game might you might | comicbooks.com