Mutt and Jeff #6

Jeff and Mutt discuss a man named Bill who narrowly escapes a fall from a scaffold by grabbing a rope at the sixth floor, prompting Jeff to quip that Bill’s absence of body might have been just as valuable as his presence of mind. The story plays on the absurdity of the situation with a dry, physical comedy twist.

Mutt encounters a man whose family has preserved a single fan for three generations by never using it to cool themselves—instead, they hold it in front of their face and move their own face back and forth to create a breeze. The absurdity of their method highlights just how frugal they are, turning a simple fan into a family heirloom.

Jeff returns from the market, shocked by how expensive food has become, lamenting that eggs now cost nearly as much as chickens once did. His friend reacts in disbelief, noting that chickens now sell for the price of turkeys, and the escalating prices continue to rise—turkeys now cost as much as hogs did before, and cows are priced like elephants used to be.

Jeff confidently claims he’s got a good job earning thirty dollars a week, but his math proves shaky when he tries to compare profit shares—only to be outsmarted by a simple fraction calculation that leaves him flustered.

Jeff discovers that Mutt has an unexpected talent for throwing a number 10—literally—when a mischievous moment leads to a comically exaggerated showdown over a swallowed gold coin, prompting a series of escalating antics in a lunchroom.

Mutt insists his hat fitting Sir Sidney—and Sir Sidney’s hat fitting him—is a miracle, but Jeff dismisses it as mere coincidence. Jeff then demonstrates his point by kicking Mutt, who reacts with a sharp "OUCH!"—proving the kick was real, and not a miracle at all.

Mutt and Jeff wait outside a theater, debating whether to smoke while they wait for the next act. Jeff refuses, claiming he’s sworn off smoking for a year—until he notices the program reveals two years have passed between acts, making his vow suddenly irrelevant.

Jeff, excited about his stock gain, refuses to sell his Johndee Oil shares despite Mutt's advice, convinced the value will keep rising. His confidence grows as he calculates his profit, but his optimism soon turns into a wild, bearish frenzy when he imagines the stock soaring to a dollar.

The Little Fellow, ever the planner, asks Mutt for his umbrella, claiming he wants to be ready for future rain. Mutt agrees but jokes about the absurdity—until the Little Fellow points out that if he waits until it actually rains, he’ll be too late to borrow it.

Jeff is frustrated after his cow is killed by a train and must fill out a railroad claim form, prompting Mutt to help him with increasingly absurd answers. As Jeff struggles to answer questions about the cow’s disposition, Mutt’s temper flares when he insists on describing the animal as “very kind and gentle,” leading to a comically escalating outburst.

Mutt finds himself on the receiving end of Jeff’s playful torment after accidentally revealing he has a son named Cicero—same name as Yvette’s little brother—causing her to take offense. Jeff refuses to let up, lying on the ground and demanding Mutt stay until he gets up, turning their banter into a stubborn game of endurance.

Mutt and Jeff debate military prowess, with Jeff claiming English-speaking soldiers are the greatest fighters and the Chinese the worst. Mutt initially scoffs, but when Jeff points out that Chinese soldiers also pray before battle, Mutt reluctantly concedes that maybe Jeff is right—especially since no one can understand what the Chinese are praying.

Jeff insists on writing his diary in grand, poetic language, prompting his friend to mock his dramatic phrasing. As Jeff attempts to record his day with celestial metaphors, his friend hilariously corrects him—turning a simple morning wake-up into a sunrise spectacle.

Jeff insists he’s a skilled hunter after claiming to have shot a moose, but his story unravels when he admits the single bullet passed through both the animal’s left hind foot and head—prompting disbelief from a skeptical companion. The humor stems from Jeff’s deadpan logic and the absurdity of his account, which only grows more implausible as he defends his marksmanship.

Jeff is furious when Mutt brings home an Abyssinian woodpecker, complaining about the cost of feeding it—until the bird starts pecking at Jeff’s head, revealing the joke: the woodpecker only eats wood, and Jeff’s head might just be the one thing it can’t resist.

Jeff and Mutt return to a restaurant a year after being kicked out for not paying their bill, only to find themselves in the same predicament again—this time, Jeff is determined to try the same tactic once more. The manager, recognizing them, is caught off guard as they prepare to repeat their earlier stunt, leaving the outcome uncertain.

Mutt pitches a scheme to Jeff: feign an injury by falling off a streetcar and claim lifelong disability to collect a settlement. Jeff agrees, but when confronted by the accident adjuster about how he walked before the accident, he stumbles into a comically inconsistent story.

Jeff, the sales manager, sends a young man to Springfield to investigate declining business, handing him only twenty dollars for expenses. The young man groans at the meager amount, calculating he’ll need to cover a train ticket, a hotel stay, and meals—struggling to stretch the money across the trip.

Jeff, exhausted from a year in the trenches, asks Mutt if their boss, Bud, might approve a vacation. Mutt encourages him to demand one, but warns Jeff the boss has already denied all requests—leaving Jeff unsure if he’ll be thrown out on his ear.

Jeff, pondering Martian communication, imagines the people on Mars using practical methods to reach Earth—like sending a message and checking if it gets paid for. His friend counters with a mock-serious take on American ingenuity, even as the conversation veers into absurdity. The two banter about how any signal from Mars would need a way to confirm receipt, leading to a playful exchange about billing.

Jeff, pondering a scientific article about the human body’s composition, becomes oddly convinced that the presence of sulphur explains why some people make better matches than others. His logic takes a wild turn as he confidently declares his own head tougher than a drum, all while the article’s facts spiral into a humorous, offbeat revelation.

Jeff, intrigued by a wealthy oil king’s marriage offers tied to age and dowry size, considers the proposal—especially after learning the older the daughter, the bigger the payout—prompting him to wonder if there’s a daughter even older.

Jeff, after a visit to a questionable dentist, accidentally tests his new gold crowns with acid, causing a small explosion that alarms everyone nearby. The chaos unfolds as Jeff’s reaction and the unexpected splash of acid lead to a moment of absurd panic, all while a nearby boy watches in amused disbelief.

Jeff reads a letter from his hometown in California, sparking a sudden urge to escape the monotony of camp life. He tries to sneak into the city, but is stopped by a sentry who demands the password—“Recognizance”—a word Jeff doesn’t know, leaving him flustered and returning to camp.

Mutt is frantically gathering tubs, convinced a storm is coming and determined to collect rainwater for his wife’s weekly laundry. Jeff mocks him, pointing out the downpour will be too heavy to catch usable water—and adds that Mutt’s wife should probably wash more often.

Jeff and Mutt, weary from trench duty, prepare to leave the front lines for a peace mission, trading war's horrors for a journey to the peace ship. Amid their banter and a sudden, garbled interruption, they press on toward the distant ship, bound for a cause they claim to believe in.

A young man, eager to leave the military after the war, confidently claims his hometown of Penasappa, California, only to be met with confusion when the draft board can't locate it on a map. His insistence on the town's existence grows increasingly frantic as officials struggle to verify his roots, turning his moment of discharge into an absurdly comical mix-up.

Mutt is desperate to escape his uniform and begs Jeff for the secret, convinced Jeff pulled it off somehow. Jeff cryptically hints at a simple trick involving a small payment, sparking Mutt’s determination to find out how it’s done.

Jeff, posing as a tour guide, confidently directs a tourist to the Château-Thierry battlefield, spinning an elaborate tale about a heroic solo capture of enemy soldiers—though the story is clearly a tall tale. As the tourist marvels at the fictional exploits, Jeff suddenly remembers he’s late and dashes off, leaving the tourist bewildered.

Jeff, eager to leave military service after the war’s end, convinces Mutt they should get their discharge papers immediately. As Jeff nervously waits outside, Uncle Sam quietly slips him a discharge document, then shooes him away with a sharp command.

Mutt recounts a childhood memory of Percival Grey, a boy known for his prim appearance and delicate habits who was mocked by classmates. Despite being called "Sissy" for his clean-cut ways, Percival surprised everyone by volunteering for military service at the first opportunity.

Jeff panics when he realizes he’ll need medicine if he gets sick, but the only thing he has is a bottle of pre-war scotch locked in his safe. Mutt warns him that Secret Service agents will search the safe after July first, so Jeff decides to bury the bottle in the backyard to stay safe. He jokes that if he ever gets sick, he’ll just dig it up—after all, safety first.

Sid, a man with only small bills, seeks legal advice from Jeff, who charges him three dollars for initial guidance. When Sid can’t produce change, Jeff casually reveals his first advice was flawed and ups the fee to five dollars, leaving Sid flustered by the escalating cost of the lawyer’s "help."

Jeff, having won money from Mutt in a poker game on the trip over, is asked to play again for a chance to get even. Mutt confidently offers his personal check, claiming the entire Russian government backs it—only for Jeff to investigate and discover the Russian national debt is over four billion dollars, leaving Mutt’s promise utterly unconvincing.

Mutt’s wife tells a visitor that Mutt has finally landed a job and gone to work, much to her relief. The visitor congratulates Mutt, who then hands him a bill from a tailor, claiming he’s been commissioned to collect it.

A chauffeur sends a young boy across the street with a dime to buy cigarettes, but when the boy returns saying he was too young to buy them, the chauffeur hilariously declares he must run over himself to resolve the situation. The absurd premise unfolds with deadpan delivery, playing on the logic of the moment with a classic comic twist.

Jeff tricks Mutt into pretending to be shot during a staged duel, convincing Mutt he’s a hero after faking his own death with a blank shot. Jeff demands payment for his "heroic" performance, gleefully cashing in on the ruse.

Jeff boasts to Mutt about his foolproof defense strategy for an upcoming fight with Jess, claiming it will frustrate Jess so much he’ll quit. Mutt tries to warn him, but Jeff’s overconfidence leads to a comical mishap when he accidentally bumps into a wall, yelping in pain.

Mutt and Jeff, stranded and broke, ask a captain if they can work their way to Chicago on his ship. The captain offers to take them along just for company, but Jeff points out the absurdity of traveling by boat from Texas to Chicago—only to realize the whole journey might be a joke, as the strip itself seems to be playing with the idea.

Jeff reads a series of absurd newspaper jokes to Mike, including one about a maid defending a fish that’s never been out of water. When Mike dismisses another claim—that Adam never existed—Jeff reacts with mock outrage, escalating the banter with a punchline about Uncle Tom, leaving Mike flustered.

Jeff boasts to Mutt about landing a job as a reporter, claiming it gives him newfound class. Mutt mocks him, challenging Jeff to use the word "foregoing" in a sentence, leading to a comically awkward attempt that ends with Jeff demanding payment—only to be denied by a passing officer.