Judge — October 1937 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

conceals a well of malice. He idles up the room, pawing idly at a t clip, as though Ae hadn't a thonght; thea when we return to our work, gullibly believing what we see, he is on us in a flash. He rips up our leg, like a clawed Satan, and into the typewriter, where he bats the keys into a dreadful snarl; then he is away again, to stroll rapidly, pawing at paper clips. Another thing he does is to leap through the air and land on our sitzen. platz, like a live pincushion. You have to feel it to believe it. The thing is, this kitten grows bigger almost by the hour. We see our doom clearly written, in his big blue eye. We'll try to report on him again in these columns; but without wishing to be morbid, we will confess that we expect him to report on us. 'HE WAR in China, the revolution in Spain, and the general unrest in Europe is wreaking havoc with our War Department. In other words Uncle Sam is beginning to take note of deficiencies in the army and so it recently sent out a call for four piccolo players, no less. Not only that, but they want enough musicians to start a new band in the torrid Canal Zone. Something real hot. To fit in with the climate. The War Department requests a solo clarinetist who can double in an E-flat saxophone, two string and brass bass players, two French horn experts, and others who can play any instruments other than the drums. Above all, the order urgently requests, get us the four piccolo players. Say, has anyone seen Pete lately? Or will Uncle Sam have to insert an ad in Billboard. Old Ironsides HIS is simply a piece of pickpocket's fiedsss and iP any of you follow another profession, you might as well skip. Due Neapolitan informant, who is coincidentally our barber, wishes to state that his old gang back home were the best dips in the world. He offers proof, as follows: He knew a buxom country lady from Fratta Maggiore near Naples, who one day decided to ride the steam cars into town, to see the carnival. While dressing for the occasion, she remembered the wicked men of Naples. Chuckling confidently, she made her coppers up into two paper rolls, amount- ing to five lira; these she wedged in her large, protective bosom; and then she laced up her corset. She put on her chemise and dress and waddled off, like a vault on legs. They had her combination in Naples all right. When she got back to Fratta Maggiore she still had her corset, but her copper pieces were gone. Our barber says that from that day on, she never would trust a Neapolitan. October 1937 hy - —> “Home Wrecker!” once. It wasn’t you by any chance?” “Mr. Williams? I sued a Mr. Williams for breach of promise comicbooks.com