Judge — September 1938 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

“He's trying out the Braille system on his alphabet soup.” ADVICE “Now, you take Joe. There's a lad what's going to go places, and he ain't so long on education either. Things come just natural, to a guy like Joe. “Just to give you an idea: This morn- in’ I says to Joe—'Hey, Joe, what do you think of that Callahan kid, hoppin’ the Atlantic?” “The name's Corrigan,” he snaps back, as quick as that. “Corrigan, and let me tell you something,” he says, “that kid and the other guy, Hughes, is going to bring prosperity back to this country, them and nobody else.” “How come,” I asks, “how's Conni- gan going to do that?” “The name's Corrigan,” answers Joe, “and here's how: ‘Him and Hughes has got a lot of other kids excited about flying, seein how easy it is, if you follow the directions, and have money for gas, and all that. “I calculate,” says Joe, thinkin’ hard, “about thirty thousand guys are looking around the airplane sales rooms and used ‘plane lots right now, and figuring how they can shake down their old man, for a crate, with a good chance of get- tin’ it.” “That there's enough business to put all the ‘plane shops on three shifts, time and half time, and bring all the laid-off grease monkeys and pilots back to work. “And that ain't all,” says Joe. “It’s a swell ‘break for the hanger builders, en- gine manufacturers, tire factories, tan- neries, and a whole pack of other places. It's going to gang up on the railroads, too, and put ‘em back in the money. And I ain’t said nothing yet, about lug- gage, and manicures for them gals that plays mama to the passengers. Every- 36 body and his uncle will make money.” “That's how you're going to get pros- perity,” says Joe, “airplanes is going to bring it back.” “Back to who?” I asks him eager like. “Back to smart guys,” whispers Joe, “guys what grab themselves a bunch of air- plane stock, and hang on while it jumps over the “You got some, Joe?” I asks him. “Not exactly,” he tells me, “I'm load- ed up with some other stocks. Kind'a lets me out for the moment.” “Why don't you sell it, Joe, and buy yourself some air- plane stock? If I was on the inside like you, and knew all the answers, Joe, I'd make myself a mess of carrots.” “I guess Joe had the answer all right, but just then he re- membered he had a date with his missus. ‘Wow,’ he says, looking at his watch, ‘I better beat it or the ole gal will knock my ears back," and down the ave- nue he goes. “Now, I ask you, is that guy headed for the top, or ain't he?" RIG. double-cross: Table Tennis Tenet Though aced, disgraced, and By each elusive little ball, It's better to have pinged and lost, Than never to have ponged at all. AVERY L. GILES. After Dostoevski Pyotyr said to him, ‘‘Mitya, let us talk before we think. We think a deal of trash.” They embraced without words. They embraced as both muttered expletives of no importance. They spoke without em. bracing. They embraced when just Mar. belovsi—it may have been Pyotyr, though—was speaking. One gruffed, “Spies may be without, may be listening, even listening without telling us. It would be wise to clos that street door.” His companion nodded his head, a bloody repulsive head if ever their bor. rowed 2 rouble-3 kopecks mirror saw one, and replied: “True. Then we leave the door open.” Two ferocious strangers . rushec through the room. One carried a huge basket. Mitya (or if undelivered try Marbelovsl) was a little sick. He sniffed, then closing his eyes, said words: “Two gets you ten they or one of them has part of a victim's corpse there Were it not slightly past my usual bedtime I would investigate.” “Let the examples of the thoughtless rab- ble go,” was the curt reply. The speaker rolled out, hips over heels, over, over and over. Raging. He forgot whether he had murdered his trusting old friend. W. H. FRASER. “Business is lousy, but there’s no competition.” comicbooks.com weoerereregvers