Judge — June 1935 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

oe M** 1—Off betimes to hospital, my ailing foot having gone completely agley, and albeit 1 was holpen by my Emelie and a nurse, the doorman and our apartment superintendent, I was unable to make the seat of the taxicab, so was obliged to sit on its floor during my trans- portation, hoping the cleaner would be able to deal effectively later with my best tweed suit. And what the orderly who met us with a wheel chair thought I do not know, nor care to any extent. The room which had been prepared for me did look like a florist’s shop and did smell like a funeral, but I was too preoccupied to take much note of my surround- ings, for Lord! in a jiffy my whole leg was in a plaster cast, and I realize that Edward Saunders, the chirurgeon, had finally got me down, and that Samuel, speeding to us from Aiken, would be able to shift our furniture, books, and pictures about, with never a reproach from me. Greatly cheered by the rival of the ay’s menu, a condensed version of that of the Ritz, and delighted that I na physio-therapeutic case and not * By Baird Leonard a dyspeptic, so that I may have what I want to e3 Chose for luncheon velouté of celery, roast ham with champagne sauce, asparagus Hol- landaise, salad, and pineapple ice. For dinner, tomato bisque, sweet- breads Newbergh, parsley potatoes, braised endive, salad, and strawberry ice cream. So lay for a time watch- ing the boats go by on the East River, and astonished at the triple echo which arises from their whist- ling for Hell Gate. Enid Salisbury in, telling me that when one of the Metropolitan sopranos was coming to dine with them last week, she realized she had better do something about getting a certain clinking twang out of the piano, in case the lady should be moved to sing. Whereupon the tuner did find not only two twenty- five cent pieces beneath the strings, but also the diamond bracelet on which she collected the insurance a year ago, so now she will have to re turn the money to the company, and is thinking of getting pedlar’s li- Mistress Pepys’ Journal cense and working Fifty-seventh Street with leadpencils and lollipops. M** 2.—Reading in the public prints that South Carolina is not yet out of debt for her share in the American Revolution, and hoping that Stern Bros., Bloomingdale's and several other of my creditors see the item, and I was minded of Victor Moore's reflection anent Paul Re- vere’s horse in “Of Thee I Sing,” “If that. ain't unfinished business, f don’t know what is.” Marge Boothby to see me, bringing a pound of caviar, a gardenia plant, and a shamefaced confession of waking up at three o'clock this morning to find herself standing on her radiator cover peer- ing down into Seventieth Street, and what we are to do about her sleep- walking Iam at a loss to decide, since it does place her in not only queer but dangerous pitches. Seldom does she make an overnight visit without finding herself in the small hours in a strange broom or clothes closet, in spite of the thousands she has spent on psychoanalysis. Since her call (Page 24, please) “Git over there and help your pappy with that ark—it’s a wonder the government wouldn’t let a person know about that Boulder Dam.” 6 comicbooks.com