Judge — February 1936 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

Monopoly URELY you know “Monopoly”? The game that allows you to feel like Ford, Morgan and Rockefeller—without paying the income taxes. The game which turns your home into your office and your office into a kindergarten: The other night a friend said, “Come on over for a game of ‘Monopoly’—it’s fun.” Junior went. That was Sunday night. On Tuesday afternoon, we were still sitting. Feebly rolling dice, mumbling “I'll swap you a Public Utility for that row of bath houses hat I offered for a summer hotel, and a railroad in good conditior The thing gets you—in about 48 hours. Whatever acquisi- s and low animal cunning you possess comes to the fore as you seek to amass material from your fellows. Even with the luck of the it is surprising how often the shrewd etter gets you down—and down—and down, Until he tri- umphantly reaches over and takes away your last sec- tion of paved street, your final block of apartment houses, and the pants of your sole remaining suit of pajamas. “Monopoly” is pretty much like life—but you keep on, struggling feebly. Junior warns you lads to take a plentiful supply of pem- mican, condensed milk, and charged water when you are asked out to play. And leave a call at the office, saying you won't be in for a few days. Movie News LL Hollywood serves the same thing at buffet suppers: hors « turkey and ham dotted with capers, and last year’s wisecracks. California is a year behind the East in everything except idiocy. Many of the stars are baseball- mad and dress up in full ball uniform to play catch. There are thirty-eight Christian Science churches in Hollywood; everybody has colds but looks marvelous. The studios cure all visiting financiers who want to reform things by fixing them up with a bevy of cuties who take all serious thoughts out of their minds. That is, all except breach of promise suits. The tooth enameling business is big here. The stars shine up their canines to make them gleam in the Kleigs. And the happiest thing that has happened out here in years is the beating Stanford gave Southern Methodist. The Californians look on the drubbings Columbia and Alabama gave the western spirit, however, as just another earthquake or rainstorm. They didn’t happen, Junior’s Awards UNIOR believes that the day of the generous e, the supe service, the outstanding act, is not vet de He believes, moreover, in su able recognition, So he is making monthly award of tl bity, gaiety, and lfellowship High Hat. no less. Jur othe nthly award take the appropriate form of a Flan Night Cap. It will that He « s out « > the conks » Dukes of Dumht! Presidents of the Stop-Having She who speaks or Ass'n., and Emperors of the Faux pas. It will cover not only the hea and ears of the recipient, but tl mou as well, Tt) will effec: muffle speech. ze, Jr. welec nominations for both awards form of authent press. Let's hear! The Judge, Jr. High Hat Award No. 2 To: Dr. Leroy L. Hartman, Columbia University New York. Citation: there is one thing which the world has needed more than a balanced budget and a self-tyiny dress bow tie, it is relief from the universal fear of the dentist’s drill. Hero Hartman has at last made pain- less dentistry a fact. (Blow, whistles! Cheer, pa- tients !). For 20 years, Dr. Hartman has battled against pain in dentistry. Working on a new theory, he has now de- veloped a chemical which is spread on the surface of the tooth and painlessly destroys all capacity for pain within 60 to 90 seconds. The new substance produces no after effects, and is so simple to use that the patient is not aware of its application. (Ring, bells! Play, fiddles!) Judge, Jr. takes great pleasure in rewarding this triumph of practical research with his Dobbs High Hat No. 2. And hopes that Dr. Hartman will not stop here. Junior, and many another worthy fellow, often awakes with that morning after headache. What say. comicbooks.com