Judge — June 4, 1932 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE The Diary of Mrs. Pepys By Baird Leonard ay In a great wax this M mornin through having stepped absentmindedly into the h-tub without removing my best r of mules, nor was I thinking of aught of g er importance than the inexplicability of i ; spending so much time Anson wretch, a zany if ever I saw one, and Sam tells me that once when he was apprehended for some mis- demeanor during his college days. he did attempt to borrow his bail from the judge. ie in with my breakfast, the tears streaming down her face, and when I made inquiry as to her agony, she did announce that she had broken a mirror and was fearful of the seven years’ bad luck which might ensue, nor could I refrain from remarking, “I suppose it fell to pie in your hands,” her usual explanation of mities to our Spode and best crystal, where- upon she confided that it was a small purse mirror which had tum- w, I was bled to the floor from her medicine chest, so I was hasty with assurance that the gods would not victimize her for an accident in which she had no manual participation, forasmuch as I had ordered corn bread for luncheon, and did wish it to be thin and of a proper crispness. A sreat dash to see Effie Goings, the lucky wench, off for England on the Aquitania, nor did I commi her to lay aught on Shakesp e’S grave for me, but I did tell her to drink some ale in historic grills on my be- half, and, whilst stopping at village taverns, to look about for the Scot- land Yard men who, according to most of the fiction I read, are their most frequent and most reluctant guests. Then back to catch a glimpse of the great beer parade, delighted with the music from the brazen bands, and fluttering, when the “Of Thee I Sing” company marched b: the Repeal Week handkerchief which Bill Powell gave me yesterday, for- lonesome.” could more $s that piece’s asmuch as I do believ of our citizens witn satire of our nation’s follies, there would be less in our government of what the academicians term “hooey. early by motor where we did mighty pleased to } AY 16.—Home from Westbury, xo for Lord’s Day, find some birthday greetings await- ing: me, in especial a dozen fine srob- lets from Frances Hartmann of Chi- cago, and a phial of perfume with a purple glass violet growing inside it. Also a card from my trained nurse, who lost her All in the Bank of the United States, with a picture of a closed bank on the outside and the following quatrain within: Please accept these hearty wishes From a poor but honest friend, For, Ye Gods and Little Fishes, They are all that I can send. Nor fas I disheartened earlier in the morning to find a substantial cheque from Samuel on my tr. hav- ing reached a fluctuating point of solvency where I do often ponder if the directors of my own bank are not worrying more about me than about their German war loans. But the tribute which astonished me most was a large box of flowers from Pete Salis’ so penurious by nature that his cronies accuse him of still having pangs about an un- finished bottle of Scotch which he in- advertently left on a tavern table during his sophomore year at Prince- ton. Some of my cronies to luncheon, of jellied turtle soup, squab, rice croquettes, asparagus, pineapple ice, gel food. Afterwards fell to gaining seven dollars, and thence to Manie Howland’s for tea, finding a great company there, in- cluding Florence Willis, who told me how she and a friend, traveling in Spain and about to pay their first visit to an arena, had asked so many questions of the hotel porter, such as how long did it last, how many animals were sacrificed, could they leave when they che could they get ab easily on their exit, ete., th gentleman standing near had finally broken in, “S. are you girls ex- pecting to run a bull fight when you yet back to the States and they had turned to gaze into the honest eyes of our national comedian, Will Rogers. And I was minded how C Dodds, quitting his first bull fight early with sickened feelings, ha whispered in the ear of an old horse hitched to a fiacre near the gate, “If you know what's sood for you, you'll yet out of this town!” comicbooks.com