Judge — April 1937 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

-HROUGH devious channels, a young man named Walter J. Weir has just swum into our field of vision. Young Weir is an advertising man, but the important thing about him is what he does when his wife has a baby. She had one named Anthony not long ago; instantly, Walter Weir had a hoon jacket printed up, and this is what it said: ANTHONY Neither Adverse, Saint, nor Trollope By Kathryn and W. J. Weir Published By Leon Clemmer M.D. These are some of the reviews: “Fine work! What one author lacked, the other supplied!"— Handsome, World-Telegram. “Hemingway? Faulkner? Pooh! Here is something that really lives." —Snorley, Sat. Rev. of L. An earlier jacket, announcing the publication of Christopher Weir in 1934, tells us that Mr. and Mrs. Weir are the authors of, “A Schoolday Romance” (1918), “Love's Young Dream” (1926), and “Marital Bliss” (1931). Of Chris- topher, the critics said. “Shows great labor.” O* the way to Denver, a train kept stopping. They finally caught an elephant in the baggage car pulling the airbrake cord. This is clearly a portent. The elephant symbolizes the G.O.P., and you work it out from there. WEN the children have grown up and gone away from the old home, it does not seem to us that they need to & Ex have the florists, the greeting card folks and the American Telegraph and Tele- phone Company forever telling them what to do about mother. In fact, if we were a mother and thought that our children needed to be reminded of the debt of gratitude they owe us, we would feel like cutting them off next Christmas without a hickory-nut cake from home. But as to the mother-in-law, that is April 1937 Foo Ge CROSS CURRENTS another story. It was thought that jibes at the mother-in-law had begun to lose their flavor, but here is a husky arctic explorer Peter Freuchen by name, with an entirely new mother-in-law story which, it seems likely will give new life to them. This man, who is the author of a book called Arctic Adventure asked an Esquimau hunter where his mother-in- law was. Not dead, he hoped. “Oh, no,” answered the hunter, “I left her on an island to catch little auks, and we will see her next fall if she is still alive. She was quite fat and can endure much priva- tion.” Peter immediately set out to rescue the good woman. He found her after several days’ journey. She was still catching little auks for her son-in-law, who was lanning a little auk banquet for his riends. She had a milk tin, a meat can, some worn caribou skins and an enamel cup. She wept for joy at the thought of seeing her grandchildren again, but she would not return until she had captured a good many more little auks for her son. in-law. HAT follows is the God's truth. A national magazine ran a color portrait of Mrs. Simpson on its cover. A young man we know wangled the original, He and his wife walked down the street to find a place to have it framed. They went into a shop in Radio City. They selected a frame and unwrapped the painting. The clerk saw it and he said, “I'm sorry, sir, you've come to the wrong place,” and that was that. When they got outside the young couple saw that they had been in the British Empire Building. Tz Senate Campaign Expenditures Investigating Committee has recent- ly recommended that Congress enact legislation protecting voters from “fear, intimidation or coercion.” Among the committee's findings was the fact that the Republican expenditure per presidential vote cost averaged 85 cents, compared with a Democratic cost per vote of 33 cents. The Socialist vote cost was placed at 20 cents, the Communist cost at $3.37 (whoops!) and the Union Party cost at 11 cents, We'd very much like to draw some conclusion from these figures, such as the more money you 5, f vote, the fewer votes you get, which vould be a mighty satisfactory conclusion, but despite all our efforts we can't make the figures work out that way. All we know is that when we voted we weren't coerced or intimidated or any funny stuff like that, but we'd have found that $3.37 worth of Moscow gold very tempting if we'd only known about it. | oe us consider for a moment the case of the loyal Pekingese. A friend of ours, an instructor at Andover School, sent us the data. He was riding the Boston & Maine, in the smoker. The train was crowded; a matron, unable to find a place else- where, came in and sat down beside him. Her Pekingese she held on her lap. Our friend puffed his briar, and de. Wiis prs —_ a spite an open window, its fumes reached the lady. She coughed, and switched nervously in her seat. Finally she glared at our friend. He glared back, puffing more vigor- ously. The lady snatched the pipe from his teeth and threw it out the window. Our friend is a man of iron will. He sat staring straight ahead; but inside him, trouble brewed. The Pekingese chose this moment for a fit of high spirits. It began to cavort, yipping shrilly. Bae friend. fastened his eyes on the dog. He gave it a paralyzing frown, and gave its owner one too. The animal con. tinued to cavort, while the lady observed, approvingly: “Cutesy itsy Chingy. ingy.”” Very deliberately, our friend took the pekingese by the scruff of the neck. With the implacable determination of a man who is doing what he believes to be right, he flung it after his pipe. “There!” he breathed. Shortly when the train reached the North Station in Boston, the lady fol- lowed our friend out of the smoker. Tight-lipped and trembling, she clearly proposed to take action. Nothing happened, though. Our friend and the lady stood by the train, eyeing each other. And just at that moment, curiously enough, they looked comicbooks.com