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

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

Oyez, O MERICA’S inventors are never idle. Recently two of them have been perfecting the automobile, as follows: A student of theology at Boston Uni- versity devised a dashboard attachment which flashes a white light when you drive 15 miles an hour, a green light when you drive 25, and a red light when you drive 40. At 60, a music box under the seat plays, “Nearer, My God, To Thee.” The inventor is thinking of having it play, “Blow, Gabriel, Blow,” at 80. David O. Wilson, of Santa Monica, Cal., constructed a rubber face with electrically operated eyes, to be attached to the rear of your car. When you press a button on the dash the eyes roll, a rubber tongue pops out, and the face emits a loud Bronx cheer. See One of the strangest insects in the world is the fur-bearing cricket of New Guinea. This little creature, which is egg-shaped, sits all day and all night on the limb of a tree, staring into space with its large, shiny eyes. Sometimes it combs its silky fur and sometimes eats a piece of bark: otherwise it does nothing. The fur-bearing cricket mates but rarely, and the natives regard it with awe. A young man from Atlanta, Ga., reports the following ex- perience. He took a seat in the smoking compartment on a Southern train, and after a moment, asked the only other occupant the time. The only other occupant, a stern and substantial gentle. man, straightened his tie and leaned forward. “Son,” he said, “I make it a rule never to talk to strangers and I am not even going to give you the time and I will tell you why.” He breathed deeply. “Sup- pose I tell you what time it is? Then you are going to say, Nice weather we are having,’ and I am going to say, ‘Yes, but it looks as though we were in for a spell of rain,’ and you All persons having business before this court will draw near and give their attention. are going to agree with me. Then the waiter is going to come through the car announcing dinner and you and I are going in to dine and to have a few drinks. After that you will tell me the story of your life and I, naturally, will spread myself and soon we will arrive at my station, which incidentally will happen to be yours, too, and my wife will meet me at the station in our new car and we will drive you to your hotel and I will invite you up to our house for dinner and you will take me up on it and you will meet my beautiful daugh. ter and fall in love with her and finally you will marry her and I will be damned if I am going to have a son-in-law that doesn’t own a watch.” Our heart goes out to the prisoners in solitary confinement in Amarillo, Tex. They trained cockroaches to carry ciga- rettes from cell to cell. We like to see jurymen suffer, and therefore the latest word from Buffalo, N.Y., cheers us. Twelve duly chosen Buffaloes, or whatever they call them. selves, were forced to define the value of a 1925 Chevrolet to which the owner had made the following additions: One 1934 Chrysler airflow motor, one 1935 Plymouth differential, one 1936 Packard driveshaft, one 1934 Chevrolet frame, one 1929 DeSoto body, one 1929 Stutz radiator and hood, one set of Auburn airwheels and hydraulic brakes, and an Amrad nameplate of in- determinate age. One of our correspondents is Mr. George Norris, of Norman, Okla. He travels up & down the southwest stead- ily, and he has picked up more than 20,000 hitch-hikers. (He says.—Ed.) This month he reports on the one he didn’t pick up. He stopped in a cloud of alkali dust, beside a lonely little man. “I'm going to Ada,” he said. “Want a ride?” The little man in the road focussed his pale blue eyes on Mr. Norris. “I'm a-goin’ to Ada,” he said, ‘an’ I shore am tuckered out. But I dunno whether the Lord’d Jemme ride er not, lessen I axed him.” That stopped our Mr. Norris, and he studied the little man more carefully. In the blistering heat he wore a heavy black coat and vest, frayed and greasy along the seams, offset by a pair of soiled, sporty, summer trousers. He carried a worn bible under his arm, and looked to be a Holy Roller preacher. He eyed the shaded interior of Mr. Norris’ car, and his homely, care-worn face assumed a look of in- tense concentration as he tried to explain: “Ya see, mister, these here ottermobiles is in. struments of the devil. If ye kin wait jist a minnit till I axes the Lord kin I ride...” “Go ahead,” said our Mr. Norris, setting his emergency brake and lighting a cigarette. “Go ahead and ask.” * While he watched, the lit- tle man knelt. beside a fence- post and raised his arms 7 comicbooks.com