Judge — December 1934 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

The Day Before Christmas 1928 OHN JO BROW whispered into the telephone: take a case of gin, a case of bourbon; and how much is champagne, Louie O.K., but not to my home. Send it te that Park Avenue address.” As he hung up, Miss Hunter, with a steno book in her hand, stood before him on the thick carpet. “You ng, Mr. Brownsmith?” “Yes.” He tapped on his magnificent desk thoughtfully. “Take a memo, Miss Hunter, to the cashier: tell him to draw a $300 Christ- mas bonus check for the office boy. En- tirely forgot him. Then get me the Packard Comp: And by the way, Hunter, how did Santa Claus treat “Very well, Mr. Brownsmith, thanks to you.” “Don't mention it, Miss Hunter. And thanks for those diamond cuff links from the office force. Tell ‘em I'll be out to join them in a drink.” As she left he added, “Don’t forget the Packard Company, and you'd better tell ‘em I'm sending around a check for a down payment right away.” Then he clicked the receiver. “Get me my home.” After a happy interval writ- ing checks, he said to the telephone: “Hello, Mrs. Brownsmith — in, Meadows? Oh, I . She’s gone to a party and won't be home tonight? Do you happen to know whether came for her from T Get your little check, M Brownsmith hung up. He put on his furlined Chesterfield and derby. He changed the gardenia from the inside lapel to the outside lapel. He took his stick and gloves and went into the outer office, got a drink and drew three hun- dred dollars in cash from the cashier's window. Had another drink, shouted a Merry Christmas to his office staff and left. As he called a taxi a panhandler package Mr. approached him, he handed out five dol- lars, and said, “O.K., buddy, I don't know why I'm doing this, because I know you don’t need it. Good luck! 1930 IHN JONES BROWNSMITH whispered into the telephone: Louie, I'll take half a case of gin and a couple of bottles of rye.” Miss Hunter before him. You rang, Mr. Brownsmith?” “Yes, Miss Hunter. I want you to tell the office manager that the office boy and the three filing clerks will—ah—not be needed after the —first of the year.” He cleared his throat. “Miss Hunter—ah—to those who remain, I am giving a week's sal- ary as bonus for a Christmas present. You understand, Miss Hunter, that we are in the midst of a cyclic depression. It’s been hard but prosperity is just around the corner.” When Miss Hunter had gone, Mr. Brownsmith slipped into his three-year-old furlined coat. He put on his derby snug 1 slipped out of the office. They called to him, and asked him if he wanted a drink, but he kept right on going. Outside the air was mean. It was beginning to snow. “Taxi?” “No, think I'll walk tonight.” A panhandler approached him, and Mr. Brownsmith said: “Listen, you've been pulling this same stuff for the last two years—here’s a quarter.” And he walked slowly home. stood 1932 jJox JONES BROWNSMITH whispered into the telephone: “Louie, send me over a gallon of al- cohol, will you—and Louie, I'll pa for it right after the first of the year. He clicked the receiver and turned to Miss Hunter who was sitting at her own desk beside him. “Well, how did Santa treat you this year?” “Not too good, Mr. Brownsmith. My father is pretty sick and my brother hasn't had a job for two years.” “Well—hum— here’s a little something for you. It’s only five dollars but—.” “Oh, Mr. Brownsmith, that’s wonderful, but are you sure you can spare it “Hum— hum. Oh, certainly. Of course.” He rose, buttoned his neatly pressed fur- 14 JUDGE ox rue BENCH lined overcoat. It was pretty worn, but so was his crush hat, which had a small hole in the peak of the front crease. There was snow outside, and Mr, Brownsmith pulled his coat up around his neck snugly. He glanced at the headlines, “HOOVER LOA BANKS — $80,000,000."". Mr. Brown- smith shivered a little. He should not have given that bonus to Miss Hunter, he told himself reproachfully. A pan- handler approached him. He hurried by. He passed a shivering breadline and turned in at a ten cent store, where he bought two dollars worth of presents for his boy and girl, and a dollar's worth of gaudies for his wife. Loaded with bundles Mr. Brownsmith felt bet- ter. And as he walked home he won- dered about the new president elect: Franklin Roosevelt. What sort of man was he? 1934 M* BROWNSMITH pressed the 1 vuzzer and Miss Hunter came in. “Miss Hunter,” he said: “take a memo to the cashier. Tell him to add 10% hereafter to all checks of personnel.” Miss Hunter’s eyes widened as she en- tered the little worm-like signs in her note book. He went on. “You know, Miss Hunter, I came across an old book last night called ‘Pickwick Papers.’ Did you ever hear of it? There’s a great story in it about Christmas. A family Christmas in the country, with snow and skating, great log fires and brim- ming punch bowls, heaping platters and simple gifts, kissing under the mistle- toe, old-fashioned dancing and old-fash- ioned laughter, And you know, M Hunter, I sort of feel that this Christ- mas is going to be something like that. We've been through some pretty hard times but this year we've got lots to be happy about.” Mr. Brownsmith reached for his hat and coat, shouted a Merry Christmas to all and started for home humming a snatch of old melody that somehow popped into his head. It was Happy Days Are Here Again.” comicbooks.com —