Judge — July 1938 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

“On, Stop WorryiInG WHOSE Suip Ir Was.” with which she agreed and ordered something more to drink. Father I said. Keep quiet he snarled how often must I tell you to shut your vast puss. But Father I want to tell you something. Shut up he volunteered. So I didn’t tell Father that Ed had gone and we had both checks and then Daddy and Ingaborg were dancing. Pretty soon I was talking to the well- dressed servitor. My Father is very affluent I said to show him we could be dressed up too only we didn’t show off like him. You mean rich he questioned. Yes we are swamped in lucre I said al- though I guess that is exaggerating ten dollars. Let me take that check said the menial and whisked off to a corner with a pencil. I have made some alterations befitting your lofty station he breathed on returning. Just at this point in the story Father and Ingaborg came back and he was saying how he would like to see her native Sweden when he saw that mr. Tilton was gone. Why didn’t you tell me that rat had gone he shouted softly. You said shut up and I did not wish to incur your parental wrath I cooed. Mere explanations cannot expiate your sin returned the flustered elder and pro- duced his valuable wallet. I have just two five dollar bills he hissed at me loathesomely, and the bill is twenty- three fifty for all of us and I am sore vexed. Ingaborg my Swedish nighting- gale he began carefully. Oh she replied just let me take that five dollar bill to the bar for change I must make a phone call I'll be right back you dear. Like hell she'll be back said my father after a time had passed, which was cor- rect. We now have five dollars he com- puted and I will thank you for that fifteen cents you have there. After he had wrested by property from me we started quictly for the door when a big man grabbed my courageous father and we had to see a man called manager. So finally we left the gorgeous night club after my Father left his watch and his overcoat instead of the other cighteen fifty. We walked in the inclement rain to the station. July, 1938 Well-groomed forbear I said finally as we entered the train wasn’t that a . pretty Swedish lady. Lady my eye said he with a detestable curse. But I thought you said you had a eye for beauty. So I have he said but I am blind in that eye. This is why my parent got the Swed- ish measles. High Hat Checks A palm to the Raleigh Room of the Warwick, where Vic Piemonte and his dance orchestra appear every day but Sunday for cocktails and after-the- theatre... The drooping human spirit and the inner man get a joint lift from the Sun- day Hunt Breakfast at the Lombardy, which lasts until the middle of the after- noon and is getting popular. . . A gasp is in order for Ralph Hitz; at the Belmont Plaza Glass Hat room he has a dusky dancing busboy named Pleasant R. Crump; and at his Hotel New Yorker one of the staff has been chosen to compete for the title of “Miss Iced Coffee" in the latest of all pub- licity confections, “Iced Coffee Week.” . . Somebody please pass Junior a towel, thank you... Expensive is the word for the Wal- dorf-Astoria Starlight Roof, but then there is that famous High Hatband, Guy Lombardo & His Royal Canadians for dinner and supper dancing, begin- ning June 30th... It is worth a trip to 239 West 48th Street to visit Leone's Summer Gardens, which has Manhattan's only trout stream. The customer is invited to fish for his own brook trout and send it to the kitchen for expert preparation by Mother Leone herself, who has cooked at the Ital- ian rendezvous for many a celebrity these thirty years. Owen Jones, of the monocle, play- eth the piano and singeth, the which is well worth hearing. Summer Straw Hat Straws The dream of all good chickens is to end up broiled to a nice turn at the Sharon Inn, a quiet, comfortable hos- telry in that quiet little Connecticut town just across the border from New York. If you're going to the Berkshires, check this cozy spot. If you're not going to the Berkshires, try Sharon anyway. . . . If you are city-bound, you can spend no more pleasant evening, or afternoon, than dining and dancing to Hughie Barrett's orchestra at the airy and mod. erately - priced Tavern - on - the - Green, where they can park 250 cars—free. Enter from the Park drives or Central Park West. . . . Or Junior suggests you go about cightish to have dinner at the Rainbow Room atop Rockfeller Center. There is no cover charge for diners, and you can stay and see the oriental dances and the best imitations anywhere of President Roosevelt by John Hoysradt. . . . Those who are driving up the New England coast with a few extra dollars about might note these well-known inns: Tokeneke at Dairien, the General Putnam at Westport, the Boxwood and the Old Lyme Inn at Old Lyme, Conn., the Lighthouse Inn at New London, the Griswold at Eastern Point, the Ocean House at Watch Hill, R.I., the Breakers at Narragansett, the Viking at Newport —now wait a minute, if you're going to Newport you're lucky and you don’t need any advice. 5 “ISN’T THERE ANY PHONE AROUND HERE THAT WORKS?” 21 comicbooks.com