The Era -- Day By Day

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

The homefront scene is far from quiet. The tragedy of war seeps inside the comics even but the Harold homicide
where a man a bit tipple laboured to inflict harm on his wife and apparently shot himself instead merits pause.
Mrs Harold was calm and stated her deceased husband attempted to hurl his sidearm at her but shot himself by mistake. Presumably the perceived deceased's intent was sufficiently evident to spouse yet his iron would have
cleared its leather holster, side or shoulder for this perception, and the angle aside any coincidental happenstance
during imperiled moment leads to cynicism. Not to say it didn't occur like this, but Mrs Harold has this wrapped a wee
bit tight and all for initial impression.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Hey," heys Joe, surprised to see Uncle Frank leaning against the wall behind the counter, absorbed in the Daily Racing Form. "Wheh's Ma?" "Oopstairs,"shrugs Uncle Frank, sliding the paper under the counter and gesturing toward the stairway door. "Shee's been oop thar all marrnin'," he continues. "She aasked me to look aafter the place, said she didn't feel much like warrkin' today. She's takin' it harrd, me boy. Caarful what ye say." "Yeh," nods Joe, lifting Leonora out of the stroller and creaking up the stairs to the apartment above the store, where he finds Ma sitting on a parlor chair, a carton that once contained Nabsico Sugar Cones on the floor beside her. "I waanted to go thru a few of Michael's things," she sighs. "He haad so few things, ye know. The boy never seemed to hold aan to anything for varry long. Allways movin' from place to place, ye know." "Yeh," nods Joe, taking a seat on the lumpy horsehair couch. "Look here, Leonora dear, this toy haarse, it belonged to ye Uncle Michael." "Bum," burbles Leonora, as Joe's face flushes with embarrassment. Ma overlooks the remark as she continues to dig thru the box. "He's out t'eh someplace," declares Joe. "He jus' got separated f'm his unit, y'know? Like -- um -- well, like Skeezix, right? You know, inna Daily News?" Ma sighs, but offers no reply as she pulls a small pair of patched corduouy knickers out of the box. "Michael wore these his farrst day of school," Ma recalls. "He was a smarrt boy, did very well in school for a while, until he quit to go to waark. Ye know, he was very prooud of Sally when she got into Eraaasmus. He'd nevarr say so of caarse, ye know how broothars an' sistaars are, but he was." "Hey," ventures Joe, grasping desperately, "didja see t' Eagle t'is aftehnoon? I mean, t'rate t'ings is goin', t'wawr is gonna be oveh by Chris'mas. Mickey's gonna be back home heeh be'foeh ya know it, reachin' acrawss t'table, takin'a las' bread roll, laughin' it up like'e awrways does. You wait'n see." "Yaar mooth t'Gawd's eer, Joseph," sighs Ma. "These maarbles, Leonora, they was ye Uncle Michael's too. No, deear don't poot'm in ye mooth, ye don't know whar they been...")

Allied planes today marked up a new record for raids against the Japanese, with a 2400 mile flight to assault Surabaya, big Japanese naval base on Java. For seventy minutes, Allied Liberators unloaded bombs on the island base yesterday, setting fire to a big oil refinery, and wrecking railroad and dock facilities. Five large fires blazing at the base could be seen 140 miles away as the planes returned home from the longest flight ever made in the Southwest Pacific. Despite strong anti-aircraft fire, all planes returned safely.

Union musicians at radio station WNEW are back on the job today after a two-day strike called by the American Federation of Musicians over the station's circumvention of the current AFM recording ban by the use of English-made records. After the members of its studio orchestra walked off the job this week, the station agreed yesterday to discontinue the use of the foreign recordings. Meanwhile, the War Labor Board yesterday assumed jurisdiction over the AFM's dispute with seven manufacturers of electrical transcriptions intended for broadcast use. The WLB will appoint either an investigator or a tripartite fact-finding committee to investigate the particulars of the dispute.

("I know you need to get your bets down for those races out on the Coast, but don't you know there's a war on??")

("It was swell," grins Alice, as she and Sally stand on the 18th Street platform. "Sid helt me hand!" "Did he?" eyerolls Sally. "Yeh!" enthuses Alice. "We bot' dipped inta t'bagga pawpcawrn'a same time, an'ne helt me hand! Well, on'y f'ra sec, but it'uz a stawrt!")

(These middle-class folk are still figuring things out.)

The Manhattan house-painter who has refused to accept induction into the Armed Forces until all available single men have been drafted was in a compromising mood -- offering today to join the Army if Federal draft-evasion charges against him are dropped. Jack Silverman, a 33-year-old father of three, was to have had a hearing today in Manhattan District Court, but it was adjourned until Monday to allow him time to find a lawyer. The Assistant Federal Attorney prosecuting the case suggested that Silverman's offer was made only because he expected to be medically deferred on the basis of a back injury. Silverman does not live with his wife or children, but claims to pay child support.

("Yeh," roars Sally. "ARKY'S SICK AWRIGHT! SICK'A DUROCHEH!")

(Look, if you two want to play your little romantic-comedy games that's fine, but LEAVE THE KID OUT OF IT.)

(Well, yeah, I guess Prune Face is dead now, so yeah, I guess you qualify...)

(Make way for DAN DUNN -- WORLD FAMOUS SECRET INSURANCE INVESTIGATOR!)

(Look, aren't there any other dogs in this neighborhood?)

(I don't know how long they've been married in Reboot Continuity, but it's clearly long enough to learn the routines.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

I mean, look at him. Can't you smell the spirit gum from here?

"Ya shouln'a slugged 'im," admonishes Sally. "F'rawlya know t'at really WAS Jimmy Jemail!"

You're out of the running, Joss. Best to withdraw gracefully. You just can't stand up to The Beard.

"Look," growls Mrs. Gould. "If you didn't like my soup you could've just SAID so!"

"Don't worry about filing a report, Commander. Oh Punjab, would you come in here please..."

"Aw, I can't remember the rest of these lines. Hey, wanna neck?"

"And if you think that's impressive, wait'll you see him do it with a donut and a cup of coffee!"

Keep 'em flying, kids!

Seriously, though, how do you suppose he makes his neck do that?

Next stop, Jackson Heights...

 

[Fading Fast]

...

Union musicians at radio station WNEW are back on the job today after a two-day strike called by the American Federation of Musicians over the station's circumvention of the current AFM recording ban by the use of English-made records. After the members of its studio orchestra walked off the job this week, the station agreed yesterday to discontinue the use of the foreign recordings. Meanwhile, the War Labor Board yesterday assumed jurisdiction over the AFM's dispute with seven manufacturers of electrical transcriptions intended for broadcast use. The WLB will appoint either an investigator or a tripartite fact-finding committee to investigate the particulars of the dispute.
...

The parallels to technologic change and the current Hollywood strike are interesting.

...

(Well, yeah, I guess Prune Face is dead now, so yeah, I guess you qualify...)
...

If history has taught us anything, it's that a homely rich man will have no trouble finding a wife.

...

(I don't know how long they've been married in Reboot Continuity, but it's clearly long enough to learn the routines.)

I've never had to sneak in late, that's not my life, but I have come home late when my girlfriend is already asleep and it is absolutely amazing how much noise you accidentally make getting ready for bed when you are trying not to wake someone.

And in the Daily News...

I mean, look at him. Can't you smell the spirit gum from here?
...

You'd think the "Duke of Windsor" and "Royal Governor of the Bahamas" would be sympathetic to a man married to a woman who was impressed with that man's fancy sounding paper title.

...

"Ya shouln'a slugged 'im," admonishes Sally. "F'rawlya know t'at really WAS Jimmy Jemail!"
...

Next time ask the red-headed women.

...

"Look," growls Mrs. Gould. "If you didn't like my soup you could've just SAID so!"
...

How funny would it be if the Goulds had a perfectly lovely marriage?

As to Tracy, I get that not groveling could be a point of pride, but intentionally provoking the psychotic who has you shackled in chains doesn't seem like a smart strategy.

 

[Madhouse27]

As to Tracy, I get that not groveling could be a point of pride, but intentionally provoking the psychotic who has you shackled in chains doesn't seem like a smart strategy.

Dishwater lol

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

The Lynch family certainly endured hell with that Haight fiend and all.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("It's a crazy woil'," sighs Joe, scanning the front page as Ma drops the rest of the just-delivered papers into the rack. "It's been a craazy warrld f'ra laaaang toime, Joseph," Ma exhales. "Waan maan shoot'n a gun arr hoow many millions'a men shoot'n guns, it ends oop th' same way." "I guess," shrugs Joe. "Huh. Look heeh -- says heeh up'na Bronx t'ey got giant cockroaches. T'at's sump'n new." "Haaave ye evar been to th' Bronx, Joseph?" interjects Ma. "Well, some. But not awlat much." "Giant cockroaches is the leaaaast of tharr worries." "It's a crazy woil'," sighs Joe. "Yes, me boy," agrees Ma. "It is thaat.")

Reports by Louis Kimmel of the Brooklyn Gasoline Dealers Association that "TT" ration coupons intended for commercial trucks are being sold on the black market around the borough for 2 1/2 cents each were denied today by Kings County OPA Administrator WIlliam Jagger, who declared that "a foolproof system" has been implemented to keep these coupons out of the hands of anyone other than bona-fide applicants, and he further denied that any coupons have gone missing. "A check made in the one office issuing these coupons," Jagger stated, "shows that statement to be absolutely false."

The upstate milk situation remains unchanged today, with the OPA maintaining its refusal to raise the price of fluid milk in Sullivan County to consumers, and milk dealers adamant in their intention to ship bottled milk to areas where the price is higher. A conference held yesterday at the Empire State Building among OPA officials, state officials, a representative of the Food Distribution Administration, milk distributors and Representative Hamilton Fish, whose district includes the shortage area, produced one possible basis for settlement of the dispute, with regional price executive William J. Shine proposing that the OPA approve an increase in the price paid to distributors so long as there is no increase in the price paid by consumers. He warned that the requested two cents per quart increase in Sullivan County would serve only to create shortages elsewhere in the state, creating "a vicious spiral of inflationary price increases."

(Death and Taxes.)

("I'll think about it, just like you said you'd think about a Christmas bonus.")

("T'is Olmo guy is hot stuff," declares Alice. "Sez heeh he climbed right upta wawl. Heh, jus' like Reiseh!" "Nah," shrugs Sally, "he's still conscious!" "Y'know," admonishes Alice, "people'd like ya moeh if y'wasn' so negative...")

The Baltimore Elite Giants invade Dexter Park tomorrow for a twinbill versus the Bushwicks, and expect to face tough competition. Of the Negro clubs to pass thru Woodhaven this season, only the mighty Homestead Grays and Cuban Stars have prevailed against Max Rosner's crew.

(This is a very roundabout way for Doc to reassure teenage boys that they don't get pimples from doing what teenage boys will do.)

(In an audacious bit of stunt casting, Sherry will be played today by Boris Karloff.)

(You can't fight your addiction unless you first admit you have one.)

(Unless, of course, Sister pauses as she opens the door to light a cigarette...)

(What's that they say about the definition of insanity?)

(Jo painted that sign on the door after George stepped once too often into the linen closet.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Leon Henderson???? How'd he get mixed up in this??

Well put.

This could go on forever, and probably will.

Nah, not really.

First Pat grows a beard, now everybody wants one.

"Favorite haunts?" "Yeah, we've checked every abandoned cellar in the city!"

Back in high school, Jessica was known as, as they say, the "fun girl," and Nina was the drudge.

Now see what you've started...

Maybe banks aren't so bad after all.

Yeah, he's 4F all right.

 

[Fading Fast]

("It's a crazy woil'," sighs Joe, scanning the front page as Ma drops the rest of the just-delivered papers into the rack. "It's been a craazy warrld f'ra laaaang toime, Joseph," Ma exhales. "Waan maan shoot'n a gun arr hoow many millions'a men shoot'n guns, it ends oop th' same way." "I guess," shrugs Joe. "Huh. Look heeh -- says heeh up'na Bronx t'ey got giant cockroaches. T'at's sump'n new." "Haaave ye evar been to th' Bronx, Joseph?" interjects Ma. "Well, some. But not awlat much." "Giant cockroaches is the leaaaast of tharr worries." "It's a crazy woil'," sighs Joe. "Yes, me boy," agrees Ma. "It is thaat.")
...

It's interesting how, to this day, the Bronx, Queens and Staten Island never developed a singular personality like Brooklyn or anything near its renown.

..

(Death and Taxes.)
...

I'll ask super girlfriend abut the Mendy Weiss gold Mezzuza, but I'm pretty confident a terse "bad juju" will be the response.

...
("T'is Olmo guy is hot stuff," declares Alice. "Sez heeh he climbed right upta wawl. Heh, jus' like Reiseh!" "Nah," shrugs Sally, "he's still conscious!" "Y'know," admonishes Alice, "people'd like ya moeh if y'wasn' so negative...")
...

"Y'know," admonishes Alice, "people'd like ya moeh if y'wasn' so negative..."

...

(This is a very roundabout way for Doc to reassure teenage boys that they don't get pimples from doing what teenage boys will do.)
...

Show me an example of what happens when the war causes a shortage of editors.

...

(You can't fight your addiction unless you first admit you have one.)
...

And after a brief interlude riffing on King Kong, we are back to the psychedelic 1940s with a touch of comicstrip porn gratuitously tossed in. As Lizzie would say, "Hey, kids, comics!"

...

First Pat grows a beard, now everybody wants one.
...

Caniff knows he's bringing this story to its dramatic head as he's even ramped up his always very good illustration work. Each panel today is a mini work of art.

...

"Favorite haunts?" "Yeah, we've checked every abandoned cellar in the city!"
...

Oh come on, Junior, Tracy abandons you without a word all the time.

...

Now see what you've started...
...

God love ya, Punjab.

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

Fast, I hit the play Fast Lane but the Highwayman showed next. Willie Nelson, Kristoffersen, Jennings, Cash what a
troubadour gang of thievery ever played music mate!

 

[Fading Fast]

Fast, I hit the play Fast Lane but the Highwayman showed next. Willie Nelson, Kristoffersen, Jennings, Cash what a
troubadour gang of thievery ever played music mate!

So did "Life in the Fast Lane" not even play for you (I just checked, it played for me)? And, agreed, "Highwayman" is a powerful song.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("T'view ain'na same, t'at's f'soiten," observes Joe, as the clicking cable hoists the swinging canvas seats high above Steeplechase Park. "Useta be able t'see allaway t'Yonkehs, an'now, well, gettaloada t'ocean, I guess." "I wondeh wheah my hat ended up," muses Sally. "I t'ink about t'at sometimes. I dunno wheah it is, but it's -- out t'eh someplace, y'know. It didn't stop existin' 'cause it blew away. It's still out t'eah. I jus' dunno wheah. Sawrta like Mickey, y'know?" "Yeh," nods Joe, gazing out across the crowds thronging the boardwalk toward the sea beyond. "Hey, lookit -- t'ez Alice an' Krause downeah. Heh -- y'c'n tell Krause don' get out much, t'em two-tone pants he's got awn. "I wish we c'd stay up heeh," sighs Sally, leaning her head against Joe's shoulder. "Downeah, t'woil' is crazy. T'wawr's goin' on, Mickey's gawd knows wheah, t'ehs lunatics runnin' aroun' wit' guns an' two by foehs an' meat cleavehs, people eat'n hawrsmeat an' tellin'emselves t'ey like it. Kin'a nice t'get away'fm it. "Hey," observes Joe, pointing upward as the swinging seat clanks to the summit of the tower, 250 feet above the roiling crowds. "Lookit -- seagulls." "Yeh," laughs Sally, as a passing bird drops its payload on Joe's Davega polo shirt. "T'ey don' like us invadin'neah territawry." "T'at," sighs Joe, "ain't changed a bit," as with a rattle and a clank the catch releases and the seats plummet, beneath their spreading canopy, back to the unhinged world below...)

With half a dozen shots fired in anger and many many more in celebration, the capital of Sicily fell today to American armored forces pushing into the city from both sides. The reception given the Americans as they rolled into Palermo by the city's population of 400,000 outstripped anything seen in Tunisia. Thousands lined the main roads into the city, waving white flags, cheering, and clapping hands, and stopping incoming vehicles to express the peculiar Italian habit of expressing their welcome by flowery speeches. Everywhere there were shouts of "Evviva Americano!" and "Evviva Liberte!" One Italian explained to a reporter the meaning of the latter slogan. "The people are cheering the Americans as their liberators from Fascism," he stated, "which they detest after fifteen years of it. They hate Mussolini and his government."

(There's a New World Coming...)

The astrological forecast for 1944 bodes ill for Hitler, according to the new edition of Old Moore's Almanac released today. The almanac predicts that, according to the stars, Hitler's fate will come at the point of an assassin's knife, although, the almanac is careful to stress, that event itself may not occur during 1944. What will occur, it is predicted, is that a revolt against the Nazi regime will be led by the women of Germany. It is also predicted that "Stalinism, tempered by some of the sounder principles of democracy" will make substantial headway during 1944, and that President Roosevelt will be elected to a fourth term. The forecast for the Pacific Theatre, however, offers a grim prediction of "heavy, bloody fighting with an alarming degree of destruction."

City Council Minority Leader Genevieve Earle of Brooklyn will run for a fourth term on the Fusion ticket, promising to continue her efforts on behalf of parks, playgrounds, schools, and "a comprehensive child care program and the extension of other protective services demanded by wartime conditions in a large city such as ours." Mrs. Earle, a staunch supporter of Mayor LaGuardia, also pledged to continue her efforts to keep the legislative branch of city government from interfering in the duties of the administrative branch. Republicans have considered endorsing Mrs. Earle's reelection campaign rather than running a candidate of their own, given the GOP has not elected a Brooklyn council member since Abner Surpless, now a magistrate, in 1937.

("You haaad noo business givin' them odds with thaat Sewell pitchin'," snaps Ma, fixing Hops Gaffney in a murderous gaze. "Oi'm tellin' ye, boy, if ye don't mind ye step, I'll...LEONORA! POOT DOWN THOSE NICK'LS!" "Easy now, Nora," admonishes Uncle Frank, leaning back on his stool. "Don't shout at the poor child." "I'll shout at whoevaar I please, Francis Leary, an' I'll thank ye t'mind yarr place." Ma returns her gaze to Hops. "Now what arrr YOU lookin' at? G'wan' with ye!" Quailing at the sight of Ma's raised hand, Hops grabs his hat and skitters out the door. "Waaar YOU about t'say som'thin?" growls Ma. "Let's go faar a walk, Nora," Uncle Frank suggests in an even voice." Ye need some fresh air. Poot the child in harr stroller an' we'll go walkin' in Prospect Paark." Ma slowly lowers her hand, and blinks at Leonora, who is frozen in an expression of curiosity and fear. "Wawk," Leonora echoes. "Waaalk," Ma nods. "Let's go farr a waalk.")

(Poor Mr. Stassen. You never get anywhere if you don't keep trying.)

Technicolor is on the rise in Hollywood, with two hue-dappled musicals, "Coney Island" and "Dixie" now playing in Brooklyn, and the war's the reason why. It seems that restrictions on the availablity of materials used in building elaborate sets have left film producers with an excess of cash in their budgets -- and they're choosing to spend this money on the expensive Technicolor process, which is ideally suited for outdoor pictures.

Old Timer Robert Ryder recalls Al Minor, manager of the old Baxter Base Ball Club at Stewart Avenue and 69th Street as the pioneer of the modern "zoot suit" fad. Al would parade around the neighborhood in a bright green suit with peg-top pants, and could be recognized coming down the street a block away.

(Red's girlfriend is named Tess? I wonder if she'll have a granddaughter she can warn away from men with strange jawlines.)

("Mussolini's Waspish Son In Law?" Well, that sounds good on a resume.)

(Invisibility is a nice skill to have if you never get invited to the good parties.)

(Fortunately, Mr. Bushmiller couldn't figure out how to draw a zygote. And the bride is wondering how much she can get for it down at the hock shop.)

("Gaze" magazine? Didn't Butch ban that? And why doesn't somebody just invent an automatic safety shut-off for gas pipes?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Jeeezuz.

"We're on our way to the dentist's! I was just inspectin' his bridgework!"

Vaudeville?? Mama Strohs, is that you???

Reality is such a subjective little trifle...

Troll level: OFF THE CHART

Well, this should be spectacular.

NAAAAAAAHHHHHH COULDN"T BE

Every year they all go to the beach and nobody ever seems to have any fun.

Next time, fathead, don't put a 100-watt bulb in your fridge.

Yeah, REAL counterfeiters know better than to use water-based ink!

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

'Nuf sed.

 

[Trenchfriend]

"Be American!"

SACHS Quality Furniture

Kind of funny.

 

[Fading Fast]

...

With half a dozen shots fired in anger and many many more in celebration, the capital of Sicily fell today to American armored forces pushing into the city from both sides. The reception given the Americans as they rolled into Palermo by the city's population of 400,000 outstripped anything seen in Tunisia. Thousands lined the main roads into the city, waving white flags, cheering, and clapping hands, and stopping incoming vehicles to express the peculiar Italian habit of expressing their welcome by flowery speeches. Everywhere there were shouts of "Evviva Americano!" and "Evviva Liberte!" One Italian explained to a reporter the meaning of the latter slogan. "The people are cheering the Americans as their liberators from Fascism," he stated, "which they detest after fifteen years of it. They hate Mussolini and his government."
...

And nine months later there was a mysterious boom in babies born to unwed Italian mothers.

...
("You haaad noo business givin' them odds with thaat Sewell pitchin'," snaps Ma, fixing Hops Gaffney in a murderous gaze. "Oi'm tellin' ye, boy, if ye don't mind ye step, I'll...LEONORA! POOT DOWN THOSE NICK'LS!" "Easy now, Nora," admonishes Uncle Frank, leaning back on his stool. "Don't shout at the poor child." "I'll shout at whoevaar I please, Francis Leary, an' I'll thank ye t'mind yarr place." Ma returns her gaze to Hops. "Now what arrr YOU lookin' at? G'wan' with ye!" Quailing at the sight of Ma's raised hand, Hops grabs his hat and skitters out the door. "Waaar YOU about t'say som'thin?" growls Ma. "Let's go faar a walk, Nora," Uncle Frank suggests in an even voice." Ye need some fresh air. Poot the child in harr stroller an' we'll go walkin' in Prospect Paark." Ma slowly lowers her hand, and blinks at Leonora, who is frozen in an expression of curiosity and fear. "Wawk," Leonora echoes. "Waaalk," Ma nods. "Let's go farr a waalk.")
...

The thing about being a local bookmaker is that it is all but impossible to balance your book - most of the action will come in on the home team - so you try to adjust the odds against the home team, but if you go too far, you'll lose your customers to other bookies, so you do your best.

When home teams have surprisingly great seasons - win many of their games by a lot - local bookies get killed. That's why nationally syndicated bookmaking makes sense as bookies can then more easily balance their books by combining offsetting regional bets, but national syndication brings with it, its own issues.

When you see, in a movie, a local bookie calling "Chicago" to lay off some action, that's often an attempt by the local bookie to reduce his/her exposure by passing on the action to a national bookie that can more easily balance his/her book.

...

("Mussolini's Waspish Son In Law?" Well, that sounds good on a resume.)
...

The resume would also have "failed playwright" going for it.

I doubt the American WASP, at that time, would see the expression "Italian WASP" as anything but an oxymoron.

...

(Fortunately, Mr. Bushmiller couldn't figure out how to draw a zygote. And the bride is wondering how much she can get for it down at the hock shop.)
...

Until the last panel, I thought Fritzi might have bought some of the same coffee Invisible Scarlet has been drinking.

...

Vaudeville?? Mama Strohs, is that you???
...

I've seen initials engraved on a pen, but who has his/her entire name engraved on it? What kind of an ego does it take to do that?

...

NAAAAAAAHHHHHH COULDN"T BE
...

Girl Power 1943 style.

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

And also...

View attachment 534960
'Nuf sed.

A bit much. I keep an eye on America sure and not just Wall Street but wharf and woof and race
is a cudgel swung by left harridans, so what's it now, Not In A Small Town peeling back paint. Anything will do
for some people.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Hmph," hmphs Alice. "He's probly hidin' downa basemen'." "Unneh t' ping pong table," snorts Sally. "Oveh bhein'a ash cans." "Y'know," muses Alice, "didja eveh t'ink about basemen's? How innehrestin' a basemen' is? Like f'zample, las' night afteh we got back f'm Coney Islan', I sezta Sid, I says, 'I guess y'betteh get backta woik, huh?' An'nee says t'me, he says 'Yeh,' An' I sezta him, I says, 'I betcha gotta lotteh stuff downa basemen'neah t'woik on,' an'nee says t'me, he says 'Yeh.' An' I sezta him. I sez, 'I awrways wondeh whatcha doin' downeah, ya know, awrways wondehed what kin'a place y'got down'neah,' an'nee sezta me, he says 'Yeh." "He's a reg'lar Osceh Levant wit'ta convehsation," snickers Sally, "ain'nee?" "I ast'im, I says, 'didja have a good time t'day? An'ya know what he says?" "I can't imagine," eyerolls Sally. "He sezta me," giggles Alice, her cheeks reddening, "he sezta me, 'Yeh.")

U. S. planes again blasted Japanese positions on Kisca, with bomb-laden Warhawk fighter planes making a total of ten attacks while scoring numerous hits on the runway and among gun emplacements. A Navy communique reported that only one American plane failed to return to base. It was the thirtieth attack on Kisca by US air forces this month. Navy ships have also shelled the base seven times in what is believed to be a series of softening-up attacks intended as the prelude to a full invasion.

Soviet military advisors said today that the Germans were wrecking Orel in apparent preparation for withdrawal and the Red Army was expected to drive into it at any time. Front reports said a Russian column driving behind Orel from the north had cut the railroad Bryansk and advanced to bring under fire the highway roughly paralleling the line about 20 miles to the south. The plight of the German garrison was described as "critical," with its sole route of retreat being a dirt road angling down to the southwest.

("Yeh," nods Joe. "We'h big f' Roosevelt oveh'na Sevent' Distric'. Y'know, I ain' neveh voted f'nobody else f'Presd'nt. "Coes, I on'y voted in two 'lections so fawr..." "Ye two up on me, then Joseph," shrugs Ma. "Ain'cha neveh voted?" exclaims Joe. "I ain' got me papaars," explains Ma. "Joost nevarr got aroun' to it, I s'pose." Ya kiddin'!" gawps Joe. "You ain'a citizen???" "That I am not," declares Ma, polishing the fountain spouts. "Oh, I did take out me farrst papars long ago, right when me hooosband went in the Aarmy, but when he nevarr come back, I juust nevaar went ahead with it. Nevar thooght much about it, t'be sure. I nevarr cared much far politics arr any'o' that, anyway. Aalways seemed to me them that has is the ones that does, an' they'll do the rest of us, n'mattar who's the one doin' the doin'." "But not bein' a citizen," insists Joe, "I mean, ain'nat -- dangehrous? I mean, f'zample, what if ya get --- what if ya get in trouble, jus' fr'zample?" "What koinda trouble," chuckles Ma, "could a poor old wooman like me be gett'n into?" "Well," stammers Joe, "I mean, s'pose ya -- um -- make a mistake on ya income tax. By accident, I mean, ya know? Witcha add'n an' deductin' an' awlat. If you ain'a citizen an' ya get in trouble like t'at, t'ey could DEPOEHT ya! It happ'nta guy Solly Pincus useta know. Got sen' right back t', I dunno, Latvia a' someplace. Howja like t'at t'happn'ta you?" "Oh," Ma declares, "Oi haardly think they'll be sendin'me t' Latvia. An' OI'll be honest with ye, tharr's warrse places t'be sent if' ya gotta be sent somewharr, than Irelan'. But rest assured, me boy, Oi've been here f'farrty years an' nobody's sendin' me nooplace." "Not a citizen," marvels Joe. "An' yet y'make a egg cream jus' like a reg'lar American. Makes ya t'ink, don' it?" "That it does, me, boy. That it does.")

(They've had this page made up and ready to go for weeks...)

The Eagle Editorialist agrees with those who believe that the fall of Mussolini means the beginning of the end for Italy as a factor in the war, and further opines that it will be "a shattering blow for Germany" as well. "None will mourn the going of the cheap chest-thumper who fooled his people for years and set in motion in Ethiopia the forces that finally led practically the whole world into war."

(I suppose you can't fault a fire-safety PSA, but still...)

("Fred Fitzsimmons was called home to Brooklyn last night on private business." Something wrong at the alleys?)

("Is this your book? I found it under your mattress.")

(Even by the standards of this strip we're getting a bit too high-concept...)

("Oh, and never mind the tears, I've been chopping onions.")

(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG IS ALWAYS TRUSTING AND FORGIVING OF THOSE WHO HAVE REPEATEDLY DONE HIM WRONG)

(Pity Punjab isn't available for freelance work.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Can't WAIT for his exit interview!

To qualify as an NYC patrolman in 1943, you must hold active certifications in horse-wrangling and obstetrics.

Meet Frankie Germano's ma.

"Oh, he hands out those pens to everybody, the publicity hog."

"What's that, Mr. Patterson? You're shrinking the size of the strip so I should put less detail in the art? Yes, sir, right away sir."

"But in case he changes his mind -- ah, Asp! I have a job for you..."

You shouldn't eat before swimming against the tide.

Infinite recursion.

"And she won't even explain the big words!"

Check the other foot for the hacksaw.

 

[Fading Fast]

("Hmph," hmphs Alice. "He's probly hidin' downa basemen'." "Unneh t' ping pong table," snorts Sally. "Oveh bhein'a ash cans." "Y'know," muses Alice, "didja eveh t'ink about basemen's? How innehrestin' a basemen' is? Like f'zample, las' night afteh we got back f'm Coney Islan', I sezta Sid, I says, 'I guess y'betteh get backta woik, huh?' An'nee says t'me, he says 'Yeh,' An' I sezta him, I says, 'I betcha gotta lotteh stuff downa basemen'neah t'woik on,' an'nee says t'me, he says 'Yeh.' An' I sezta him. I sez, 'I awrways wondeh whatcha doin' downeah, ya know, awrways wondehed what kin'a place y'got down'neah,' an'nee sezta me, he says 'Yeh." "He's a reg'lar Osceh Levant wit'ta convehsation," snickers Sally, "ain'nee?" "I ast'im, I says, 'didja have a good time t'day? An'ya know what he says?" "I can't imagine," eyerolls Sally. "He sezta me," giggles Alice, her cheeks reddening, "he sezta me, 'Yeh.")
...

"'Hmph,' hmphs Alice." You had fun writing that line, didn't you?

...

(Even by the standards of this strip we're getting a bit too high-concept...)
...

...

("Oh, and never mind the tears, I've been chopping onions.")
...

So, is it official, Dan Dunn is no longer a "secret operative" and is now just a private investigator with paying clients? If so, it changes the vibe of the strip.

...

(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG IS ALWAYS TRUSTING AND FORGIVING OF THOSE WHO HAVE REPEATEDLY DONE HIM WRONG)
...

America's Number One Hero Dog is looking more and more like America's Number One idiot for listening to this dope. Remember the famous quip about the definition of insanity.

...

"Oh, he hands out those pens to everybody, the publicity hog."
...

If you're under the age of forty, or thirty for sure, it's probably hard to imagine how popular promotional pens (and pencils) once were. Half or more of all businesses seemed to give them away as, pre smartphones, et al., most people needed to carry one every day. I was going to say I haven't seen a business give them away in years and then I remembered that the local veterinary hospital gives pens and pads away with its name on it. It feels very "old school."

...

"What's that, Mr. Patterson? You're shrinking the size of the strip so I should put less detail in the art? Yes, sir, right away sir."
...

Caniff is the type of artist and a storyteller for whom these type of limitations are just a challenge for him to find a different way.

Imagine in 1943, with no Internet, etc., to deliver immediate video, stories, etc., how exciting this strip was and how much anticipation there must have been for the next day's strip to come out. I feel that today for this strip - I can't wait for tomorrow's - and we are deluged with entertainment today.

...

"But in case he changes his mind -- ah, Asp! I have a job for you..."
...

Prior to the era of robust internal affairs and ubiquitous cellphone videos, this is also how the police made "embarrassing" things to report disappear: if the evidence "disappears," it just never happened.