Judge — July 1935 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

Judge HIGH 3&4 NG R Papa Judge :— You remember I left you last month broken on the wheels of Tia Juana and headed east by Model T. Well, the first place I found myself, once I got rolling along, was alongside the Salton Sea, the only inland body of water below sea level. It is so far be- low the level I should think they’d name it Dutch Schultz Sea. I understand it is used to dip Uneeda Biscuits in so’s to make Saltines. Surrounding the Salton Sea are acres and acres of orange, grapefruit, lemon, date and nut trees. As you know a lemon tree is an-orange tree that has soured on life while a grapefruit tree is an orange tree with dementia praecox. Dates and nuts, of course, are the dessert trees and tho there are no sheiks around some Luther Burbank is trying to hybrid them so’s to get date and nut pudding to grow right on one tree. Anyway, after a couple of hundred miles of this imitation Florida country 1 arrived at a place called Blythe. This is known as a port of entry into Cali- fornia and I observed that tourists arriving at California were put to an inspection by uniformed officials, who went through all their bag gage and then pasted official stickers to their windshields to the effect that they were allowed the gracious permis- sion of the Royal California Government to enter the sacred portals of Hearstland, but please do not loiter, throw bombs, feed or annoy the na- tive son. I understand that it was only an inspection to keep out boll weevils, but what about the boll weevils that have already gotten in and are doing business? Once on the Arizona side of the border I noticed that everything seemed suddenly shrunk. What trees there were, looked like trees, what people there were looked like people. Four-year-old boys no longer spoke bass and picked up their mothers, but were just kids. I realized that at last I was out of Cali- fornia and back in America, good old normal America. Here in the country of Billy the Kid and Shotgun Sal, Liz helped out by de- veloping a backfire and blowing a tire. So I banged along with lulu hoping against hope for a quick town, It hap- pened that the first town I got to was called—so help me hannah—Gripe, Arizona. There was no garage in town so all I could do was afford myself the opportunities the town’s name allowed. I had a splendid workout on mechanics, motor cars, towns that didn’t have garages, etc. I even got in a few re- marks about editors and the salaries they pay. HEN I banged out again headed for Phoenix. Yet I think I had been a little unfair to the town. If I had my way I'd make Gripe, Arizona, a sort of shrine for beefers. I'd turn it into a kind of knockers’ spa, a place where you go to have a good crab fest. “We know what a time you had with Junior last week—so we brought along his play-pen!” 14 HAT I'd have professional listeners and regu- lar hours every day for getting rid of your spleen. Phoenix I found to be a nice clean heat wave in the heart of the desert. There was a lettuce war going on at the time but I didn’t mind a lettuce war. What I wanted was to get Liz torn down and operated on. Which I did and soon found myself snorting over the untains on my way to G at first terrified me. It looked real wild and woolly and I had no chaps. The hotels looked as if Diamond Lil had slept in every room and when I checked into one that was wooden, ominous and creaky, I inspected the walls for bullet holes, spur marks and blood splotches. Although I found none I decided it was best to sleep with my boots on and my money belt stuffed into my navel. As you know, Globe is a mining town, so before turning in I decided to take a look-see around the place and watch the prospectors drop into the local dance halls, throw a poke on the bar and call for drinks for the house. I also hoped to get a glimpse of a few bad men. Imagine my dismay when I found that everything shut down at nine and the only bad men I could find were a few Rotarians playing the marble machines in an all- night lunchroom. I did find out that prospect- ing wasn’t too bad and that you could make $5.75 a day washing dust outa the criks and sellin’ it to the govment, but it were far easier to get more by jest lettin’ the gov- ment pay you for not doin’ it. dbe. Globe HE next morning I took the rest of the leap over the mountains, which are sixty miles wide at this point. Sixty miles of such sharp descents and dizzying curves that I honestly believe I wouldn’t have the nerve to cross them thar hills again. I'd just have to settle on one side and wait till time and the weather wore them down to a prairie. (Page 23, please) comicbooks.com