Judge — April 1938 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

Ty Biggum, the fisherman, walked in and remarked: “Jeb, I found a daid man afloatin’ down the St. Francis this mornin’.” “Did?” said Jeb. “Well, I'll get out there in a while.” Jeb summoned up his young lady, and he told her: “Jenny, get me up a jury. Just found a daid man floatin’.” When the jury rounded up they waked Jeb, and the whole bunch walked over to Biggum’s shanty-boat. The dead man was a big one, a stranger; he had a pocket-knife on him, and a thirty-eight revolver, and $140 in a waterproof bag. He was shot between the eyes with a forty-five. The jury pronounced the stranger dead, at the hands of a person or per- sons unknown, and then got set to leave. But at that point, according to our in- formant, there come into the eyes of the Constable a right sly glint. “Just a minute, gents,” he said. “This varmint ain't got no right to tote a pistol.” The jurymen pondered. Finally old Adrian spoke. “Jeb,” he said, “you are right, I gonnies!"’ That was enough for Jeb. He levelled his finger at the corpse. “Stranger,” he said, “I fine you one hunnerd and fo'ty dullers, for offense to the law of this county.” The Constable settled his debt to Mike Donnle the very next day. Our science editor, Dr. W. E. Farb- stein of Pittsburgh, Pa., has just wired the latest news from his occult realm: Professor Henry A. Kurtfuss, he tells us, a professor of Biology at one of our larger midwestern universities, recently electrified a meeting of American Sodality for Experimental Bi- April, 1938 —— the Pan- ology with his paper, “A Series of Studies in the Induced Vertigo of Grass- hoppers." Taking healthy domestic gtasshoppers, he enclosed them in a small glass tube and whirled them at the rate of 42,000 revolutions per sec- ond for 48 hours. At the end of that period the released grasshoppers in every instance showed definite signs of vertigo —or, to use the lay term, dizziness. A set of control grasshoppers, also en- closed in a test tube but not whirled in a centrifuge, did not exhibit any signs of vertigo whatever! This discovery, we are informed, opens a new field of scientific endeavor. In recognition of the achievement, the Sodality bestowed its gold medal of merit upon Professor Kurtfuss. In ac- cepting the honor the professor said he did not intend to rest upon his laurels, but would push the investigation further to determine the relative amounts of vertigo induced in grasshoppers of dif- fering breeds, ages, and sexes, in the different seasons of the year. A stock broker of our acquaintance is furious. Three women inhabit his board. room. Men used to be safe in boardrooms. They could sit all day, munching their cigars and watching the prices being posted on the board. Boardrooms, like saloons, were devoid of tootsies. But now women are independent, and our broker, for one, needs their patron. age, so he has had to let down the bars. His three women, he says, carry on even worse than you would expect, and frighten the other customers. They stay all day; they bring their lunches, and one of them comes early to do her marketing over the company phone. Another of the women hides her lunch in the water cooler, and on one occasion she let the steel lid slip to the floor. The Johogree oldest customer bit his cigar in two and left for the day. When our broker opened a new boardroom the largest of the women went to inspect it and started a row with the contractor: she wanted the rows of seats more tastefully arranged. Our broker blames ‘the whole thing on Roosevelt. These individuals this month brought fame to their communities: Archie R. Hotaling of Buffalo, N.Y., staged a banquet for all citizens who had undergone appendectomies in the last five years. Edwin O. Gerschefski, of New York City, wrote a symphony called “Dis- charge in E.” The firemen of Brookhaven, Pa., de- cided to clear the grass in their yard. They started a fire which burned up the grass. Also the firehouse. comicbooks.com