Judge — February 1934 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

ULL three moons had slid by since Lotus had set eyes upon the face of Oom Pah, a face bronzed by the Sun God and ten minutes under the carbon lamp which the pale traveller had brought his old man from the land of the gas-chariot and fire-monster. That very day a sweating slave had delivered to Lotus a fragment of parchment upon which was scrawled: “Lotus Blossom—wait for me tonight in the garden of thy father’s house. Have thy clothing packed and ready.” And the maid had answered in her own tongue: “Wong chingo tarara boom-de: And “Hokay, Cholly.”” And that is why the determined lad was now wending his way to the teakwood garden of Rum Blossom. And he was wending with the speedy lope of a shot-stung hind, for ol’ Farmer Brown, gun in hand, had caught the youth snitch- ing melons from the patch in the South pasture. As the great gong in the temple boomed the hour a silver lute tinkled its love song across the Willow-framed Pool and a kippered heron rose on graceful wings and took flight. Then came the sound of oars chunking in water and Lotus descried Oom Pah fumbling a punt in her direction. “Oom Pah!" called Lotus Blossom, Little Lotus Blossom her shapely body swaying like the reeds in the far reaches of the Pool. A Chinese Fantasy ‘Lotus Blossom.” answered the lad, logically ITTLE Lotus Blossom stood upon the threshold of her Cnough. “Is everything in readiness?” ather’s house, tottering on her tiny bound feet. She “Yes,” answered the maid. “All is in readiness. breathed deeply of the jasmine-scented air, and gazed expect- See, Oom Pah, I have packed my clothing in this antly across the Willow-framed Pool. Her violet eyes, al- here bundle. mond-shaped and limpid as the Pool itself, looked unseeing The lad’s face broke into a satisfied grin. “It is upon her body slave, Ping Pong, who was busily occupied in well,” he said. “We shall have them starched and snaring shrimp from the pool. Behind the frail maiden the — whitened and back to thee by Saturday.” Moon Gate, symbol of her line of noble ancestors, rose ma- And clucking to his roan mare he was swallowed jestically from the rice patch, barged drunkenly into a pair of in a swarm of locusts. —Atrret G. Miner papier maché lanterns and floated down the broad bosom of the Yangtze Kiang. “We draw big Gate this game,” joked one of the fantan players on the sampan, his tong in his cheek. And before you could say “Hooey Long.” the thin, sneer- ing lips were immersed in the cruel waters of the river, and a curved knife quivered in a lifeless body. UT Lotus Blossom, daughter of the venerable mandarin, Rum Blossom, aw none of this, for her tiny pear-shaped heart was elsewhere this night of nights. Even the slim lemon peel of moon, poised above the pool, failed to rouse any new emotion in the child's breast. r she was awaiting Oom Pah, the slim well-formed youth who was coming to keep his tryst. Even now the lad might be peering through the chink in the wall; the same old chink who had served Lotus faithfully since that day, seventeen years before, when he had run to warn the old mandarin to take it on the lam because his favorite wife, Bassoon, had borne him a girl-child. “T wuz an innocent bystander” comicbooks.com