Judge — April 1937 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

IF | DARE SAY SO BY CHARLES B. DRISCOLL INNY about crime, isn’t it? Or had you ever thought about it? You see, it used to be a crime to imagine the death of the King, or to hold converse with witches. . . . Nowhere is it against the law to tell a lie, unless you first hold up one hand and repeat a rigmarole ending in So belp me God, or something like that. I've known men to tell really disgusting lies in business and be paid well for it, and then, all of a sudden, go scooting off to hoosegow for saying something not exactly true about an im. material matter, after taking an oath. ... And they actually sent EARL CARROLL to prison for years for saying that the girl didn’t bathe in the champagne, after he had mumbled the magic formula. Still, it was nobody's business what the poor gitl bathed in, so far as I could see... . —, Yes, that was some time ago, but the same kind of thing happens every month in this country without attracting atten- tion. . . . Every once in a while the wise men in Washington put their heads to- gether to decide whether it shall be a crime to print news of winnings in sweepstakes. As though they could keep the sun from shining by hanging people for talking about the sunrise. . . . South of the line the elderly folk stick the SHERMAN stamp on upside down. Snoot if you must their old gray heads, but I'll freely admit I'd do at least that to anybody who'd burn my house and steal my horses, no matter whose uni- form he wore. . . . 1 was at Rollins Col- lege lately . . . . But while they were giv- ing hoods of learning to millionaires, the Rollins people bestowed their greatest honor, a golden plaque of testimonial, to RAY STANNARD BAKER, one of the most mode&t and honest journalist- authors I've ever known, and that made everybody happy. . . . I think there should be s Pry academic degrees to be given solely in exchange for buildings ind endowment, and other kinds of hon- ors for other varieties of excellence, such as scholarship, character and worth-while achievement. M* HENRY FORD tells the press that he isn’t keen on games and that the best way to teach history is out of the newspapers. I can’t help remem. bering that he once proclaimed that bis- 32 tory is bunk, and I'm surprised that the newspapers are accepting his latest dic. tum as a compliment... . GRANDPA FORD is becoming one of our elder statements-makers, and he may begin giving away dimes almost any day now. . . « Meeting COUNTESS ALEXAN- DRA TOLSTOY recently, I had a chance to make acknowledgment. “Your father and SAINT PAUL,” I said, “taught me more about writing than any other two people,” and she was pleased when I repeated some of COUNT TOLSTOY'S philosophical writings. . . . True, young writing-ambitionists, you'll look far for style elements to beat those used by PAUL, TOLSTOY, and BRAND WHITLOCK before he went to Belgium and became a war propagandist... . ANNE LINDBERGH will have material for another good book after the flight to India and elsewhere. . . . Couldn’t we get CHARLIE back to America if we'd all sign a pledge not to look at him? ... It's hard Re our people to understand, but a great many well-bred Swedes really and truly loathe fame, notoriety, public adulation and invasion of privacy. It's partly modesty and partly a natural de- sire to be damn well let alone. You sense it among the majestic mountains and shining glaciers of Scandinavia. Some think it's un-American, but you'd better not say so in Minnesota. . . . I drank fourteen steins of beer with ALBERT PAYSON TERHUNE the other day, and he admitted that he intends to stran- gle the next lady who, at a formal dinner, starts conversation by saying, Ob, MR. TERHUNE, how are the dogs? “PNG was the spectacle of billions in gold being carted through Manbattan on its way to the national treasure shrine at Ft. Knox, Ky. And I recalled how DARIUS had the empire's gold toted on camels, asses and slaves, as he went forth to give battle to ALEX- ANDER THE GREAT. The Great King didn’t want to get too far away from his loot. When ALEXANDER seemed bound to win, DARIUS had the gold buried in the high hills of Hamadan, and there it lies today, probably the greatest buried treasure outside of Ken- tucky. . . . History may not be bunk, MR. FORD, but it’s chock-a-block with grim jokes . . . like life, that way.... And our serious-minded press failed to shake and clatter with innocent merri- ment when a rural cop, not far from my home in Westchester, caught Public Rat Number One by the simple expedient of slamming the trap on him. While the thundering army of JOHN EDGAR HOOVER champed at bits of biograph- ical data, pounded its t: riters and whanged te imimeogiats, and the HOOVER shock troops oiled machine- guns, movie cameras and oarlocks, all intent upon build-up of THE RAT, so that he might be loudly blasted down, along with a few blocks of assorted apart. ment nous the _ Westchester cop sna is fingers. Out stepped no great ba Ee but a squeaking litte pale-laced mouse who had been almost, but not quite, sold on the idea that he was a super-colossal Scourge of Mankind. . . . Verily, the Mountain of publicity labored and the working cop brought forth a ridiculous mouse. . . . Oh, Say, can you see typographical errors? One last month made me list SAM MOORE as inventor. MORSE, of course. . .. CEDRIC BELF- RAGE has a funny name that I never heard of until a week ago, when I was entertained no end by his Away From It All... . Absurd, how people try to get away from themselves and from bores by seeking physical distance, isn’t it? That's why so many people drive so fast and watch their speedometers as a ten-year tisoner watches clock and calendar. lostly, people flee from themselves, but some few try escaping bores. Futile, in- evitably. I've flown some hundreds of thousands of miles, and I've always found myself and the bores glad-handing me at journey’s end... . In Heaven, how will it be? Please, GOD, I don't have to play with BISHOP CANNON and NICHOLAS MURRAY BUTLER or listen to BOAKE CARTER, do I? Not, surely, after such a long, long journey, LORD, for I can tell that I'm going to be tired, and a bit bruised, because I was a newspaperman, and I have fallen among bores not seldom. . .. Nobody has improved his public speaking more than BOB RIPLEY... . While LELAND JAMIESON pilots a ttansport plane and writes stories about flying that buy him a palace and high living. . . . Six per- sons I admire and praise, not for their beauty, which is less than sensational, but for their activity and enthusiasm, age considered: the DIONNES and ELEA- NOR ROOSEVELT. ...So... if inflation comes, can Millennium be far behind? comicbooks.com