Life — June 21, 1929 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

Life Short Stories of Life airy spring mornings, to walk the two pleasant miles from my lodg- ings to the club, and to_ breakfast there with Ferdy Jessup. We would sit at a small table in the bar, discuss- ing our adventures of the previous eve- ning and drinking in our surroundings. Our views frequently differed. Ferdy usually claimed we had been thrown out of one place, while I as stoutly maintained we had been kicked out of another. This arrangement no longer exists. When I was dressed on the morning in particular, my valet informed me that I had broken my cane while beating out the brains of a giant boa constrictor. He said the snake was thirty feet long, and he had sent it to a mu- scum. Since I pos- sessed no spare cane, having used them all up in self-defense at one time or another, |, of course, was forced to hail a cabby to drive me to the club. Consequently, I arrived very early in the morning at about eleven o'clock. Galkins, as he relieved me of my wraps, said, “Mr. Ferdy Jessup is in the bar.” “What? Jessup here at this hour?” “Yes, Sir. It seems that he some friends so intoxicated they had to bring him here.” . “What? Jessup has been drink- I: WAS my custom for years, on Sir. Pardon Sir, but Jessup is quite whooie.” I knew instantly that nothing short of a calamity, possibly several of them, could have taken place. Mr. Alicia Marries By A. L. Anniston “Aynsworth,” cried Jessup. “Right-o. What's up?” “Alicia!” he moaned, wringing my hands, “Alicia? Speak up, man.” “Alicia! Married!” The blow was a great one. Alicia Devins, the musical comedy star, be- longed to us. We shared her, jointly. That is, she went with us to all the joints. Why, I could distinctly recall that we had dined with her last eve- ning. I sat, thinking. “Whom did Alicia marry?” I asked. But Jessup had fallen back into his chair and buried his head in his arms. He could only mumble, “Alicia! Mar- ried!” It was incredible. Alicia was our dear friend. She had permitted me to give her a diamond garter. And she had consented when Jessup wished to give her its mate. Those garters made strangers stare when we three, Alicia, Jessup and I, went out together. And if one of us went out first, the other two always saw that the proper restoratives were provided. “Listen, Jessup,” I said, shaking him. “Sce here, my man, whom did Alicia marry?” Jessup groaned, “Alicia! Married!” I ordered the bartender to bring us some conversation. Jessup drank his. I sat idly sipping mine. “Whom,” I asked again, “did Alicia marry?” “Alicia married me!” I took my drink and ordered the bartender to set the bottle on the table. “Jessup,” I said, a couple of hours later. “Jessup, you should go home to your wife.” “Don’t want to go.” “Be a man, Jessup. You lured this sweet litte girl into the bonds of matrimony. She’s your wife. Go home to her.” Jessup braced up and consented to be carried away. I sat, thinking. Jessup was gone. Alicia was gone. But the bartender was still with me. Several drinks elapsed. Someone was shaking me by the shoulder. “Alicia! Married!” I mumbled. “Aynsworth,” said a cheerful voice. I managed to look up. Jessup had re- turned, sober and smiling. I buried my head in my arms, groaning, “Alicia! Married!” “Alicia,” said Jessup, “married you.” Another Short Story of Life will appear on this page next week. Lire is offering $5,000 in prizes for the best Stories published during 1929. For particulars see Page 30. comicbooks.com