Judge — February 1937 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

DEPRESSION’S OVER! “Tee-de-dee-de-dee. Oh, my—listen to me singing at the dinner table, for goodness’ sake! Excuse me, John, won't you? But I've just been so happy all day. Don’t you know why?” “Uh-uh.” “Put up your old newspaper and talk to me! I should think you'd feel like singing too. Don't you know the depression’s absolutely, completely, actually, positively over? Everybody says so! Bresyboey aH talk to and everything you read, too, says it is. The President says so, and I guess be ought to know! And prices are going up everywhere on everything, and that’s a good sign. Just think how wonderful it'll be never to have to scrimp and stint and economize again! Just think, John!” “Yeah.” “Just the same, you'll be pleased to know that I'm still being a very thrifty little housewife in spite of prosperity being back. I've spent all day rushing around like mad buying every single thing I could think of that I'll need, for as long in ad- vance as possible, before prices go any higher.”” “Hub?” “I got the most marvelous bargains on handmade silk undies, and such good values in stockings that I bought two dozen pairs. And three civving print dresses and hats to go with them, and new shoes—and the sweetest pocketbook on Fifth Avenue for only nine-ninety-cight, marked down from ten-forty-nine! And the most adorable evening slippers there too, for only twelve-something, reduced from practically four. teen. And the dearest evening own for only thirty-nine- something and you'd believe me if I said I paid a hundred for it! And the smartest evening wrap for only—now what in the name of goodness are you groaning and writhing about?” “May I present Mr. Capuchi? Mr. Capuchi, I might add, is a surrealist.” Judge “Migawd, you've got plenty of clothes! You've got evening dresses and wraps and—” “Well, I've got to have something new, don’t I, now that the depression’s over? And a man’s financial state is always judged by the way his wife dresses—" “Yeah. And the way be dresses too.” “Well, I like shat. I was just saying to Mrs. Finchton in a store today, ‘John’s suits certainly are wearing marvelously. They look practically the same as they did three years ago!” Oh, and that reminds me, I asked the Finchtons to dinner next Saturday night, and the Gables and the Tinkers. And I told them we'd take them into New York to see a good show, so you arrange about tickets tomorrow to something new and good—now what's the matter?” "Six people to dinner and a show! F’gawdsakes! We don’t even owe any of ‘em a treat!" “Well, what of it? It doesn't hurt to splurge a little once in a while, now that prosperity’s here again. And I've got to ave something to wear my new clothes to, don’t I? What do you want me to do, just buy them to hang on a lot of old dress hangers in the closet? You do rea- son the silliest, sometimes. Oh, and that reminds me—to take everything out of the front room closets before the painters get here tomorrow—" “The painters?” “Sh-h-h. I wish you wouldn't shout so Katie can hear you in the kitchen. We don’t want her carrying away tales that you and I fight with each other, or some- thing. Didn’t I tell you, I'm letting her go and engaging a wonderful French cook and maid I found at an agency to- day—they'll be here for Saturday night. And I thought I'd told you about the painters. I'm having the house done over —they’re starting tomorrow morning, with extra men and (Page 31, please) 20 comicbooks.com