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The Era -- Day By Day

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_10_Page_1.jpg

("Yeh," continues Sally, shifting to get comfortable on Dr. Levine's couch. "I read it inna Eagle t'day. Right onna front page t'eh. Some guy prowlin' inna night wit' a skullcap awn, shoot'n gas in people's windehs. Who does'at?" "Are you asking," muses Dr. Levine, "for my professional opinion?" "I dunno," shrugs Sally. "I mean, 'ney said *I* was crazy f't'rowin' some guy offa train platfawrm. But at leas' I didn't sneak up onnim inna night an' gas 'im t'ru an open windeh. I ask ya!" "I've told you before," admonishes Dr. Levine, "I don't think you're 'crazy.' You were having what we call a 'manic episode.' From the the things you've told me, you've been prone to these types of episodes all your life." "Y'sayin'," protests Sally, "I've awrways been crazy?" "No, no," insists Dr. Levine, "and again, that's not even a clinical term. You simply are prone to what we call manic-depressive behavior. Think of your mind as a roller coaster." "I hate rolleh coastehs," mutters Sally. "Arways get sick on'm. One time at Luna Pawrk -- geez, ain' it a shame what happn't'eh wit't'at fieh. I awrways liked goin' t' Luna Pawrk. Me'n Joe useteh..." "Nevertheless," sighs Dr. Levine, her pencil tapping her pad in betrayal of her outward calm, "think of your mind as a roller coaster. Everybody has their ups and downs in life, they feel energetic and excited one day, a bit down and low another, like a country road going over hills and valleys. But for you, the ups are higheer and the lows are lower, and they come on very fast, like a roller coaster." "I still don' like it," frowns Sally. "But y'sayin'is skullcap guy is like me? I don' like t'at, okay? I *might* push a guard awffa railroad platfawrm, if 'e gets in my way, but I ain' goin'aroun' squoitin' no gas in people's windehs wit'a skullcap awn. T'at's like sump'n out'va funnybook." "I'm not saying that," exhales Dr. Levine. "I'm simply saying..." "An' b'sides," interrupts Sally, "t'at guy sneaks aroun' like a cat boigleh. If I'm gonna do sump'n, I'm gonna do it right out inna op'n wheh ev'rybody c'n see it! I ain' gonna do no sneakin' aroun'! I say what I mean an' I DO what I mean, y'get me?" "I think," sighs Dr. Levine, "we've covered enough ground for today...")

Soviet troops raced 37 miles downhill across Transylvania to within 226 miles of Budapest, the capital of Hungary, yesterday, while Berlin reported that Soviet forces had opened a massive new offensive in Southern Poland toward the heart of the highly industrialized German Silesia. From the northeast, east, and south huge forces of Red Army and Romanian troops are pouring across the eastern Carpathian mountains and the Transylvanian Alps into both Hungarian and Romanian annexed Transylvania for a giant drive toward the Hungarian plains -- the classic invasion route to Vienna and the Reich.

22 metropolitan area service stations have been shut down by the Office of Price Administration for periods of up to three months for violation of rationing regulations, following a city-wide investigation into the circulation of counterfiet gasoline coupons. Six of those stations are located in Brooklyn, eight in Queens, seven on Staten Island, and one in the Bronx.

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("Hmph," hmphs Ma. "Good riddance t'bad roobish. Oi wouldn't pay foive cents t'look at th' loikes'a him." "Looks loike," snickers Uncle Frank, "he was strained thru a -- um --" "Strained thru a what?" queries Ma. "Um," ums Uncle Frank, "aaa -- ah --a -- drinkin' straaaw, loike this woon roit here." "Honestly," huffs Ma, "th' things you coom oop with...")

The socially-prominent wife of a socially-prominent Army corporal will be released on "reasonable" bail after her arrest on charges of stealing $37,000 in jewelery from her hosts at various Long Island estates. Mrs. Ann Flinchbaugh Taylor, wife of Corporal Job Taylor III, is the daughter of an Episcopal bishop and is descended from President William Henry Harrison. She was jailed on Tuesday on a pair of larceny charges, with bail set at $5000 in one case and left undetermined in another. It has been disclosed that the prosecutor in the case, Suffolk County District Attorney Fred J. Munder, plans to ask that total bail be set at least $25,000 depending on the outcome of an appraisal of the gems over the weekend. The defense has promised to seek a writ of Habeas Corpus asking that the bail be reduced to $5000. District Attorney Munder stated that Mrs. Taylor has confessed to three jewel thefts from members of her social set.

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("Former baseball buddy?" Jeez, that Rickey really must be still be spreading the poison about poor Fitz.)

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("This'll be apple sauce for me!" Love the authentic Old West slang.)

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(Elmer, you enabler.)

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(Another socially prominent corporal.)

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(The last bearded president, and he certainly made a point of it.)

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(Oh. Well, THAT'S the most anticlimactic story ever. What's next, Scarlet grouts her bathtub?)

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(Jail? Sure, whatever. Just don't try it in the lobby at the Met.)

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("That's not me, that's my -- ah -- mother. Isn't that right Mrs. Wor -- uh -- Ma.")
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Daily_News_1944_09_10_4.jpg

"Two Hollywood actresses announced their marriage here today????!" Coming Events Cast Their Sha--- oh. Never mind.

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"That's right, Cuban sneakers. We call this model the 'Van Lingle Mungo.' And look, the box is a miniature laundry cart!"

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"Those unfortunate guys who try so hard to look fashion plate but never quite make the grade."

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No doubt the Brow is into this sort of thing.

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See, Judge Hedge is a "high brow."

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"Post office pens" - vintage things that have vanished in your lifetime.

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Actually, Skunky's real name is "Sherwood." Pass it on.

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NO NOT THE PIGEON! And Sinatra has nothing to worry about.

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BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

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"Oh sling your pieces muzzle down, boys, a-sling your pieces down!"
 
Messages
17,220
Location
New York City
I feel bad for Dr. Levine.

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Ah, one feels almost nostalgic for the good old days of society jewel thieves.

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Sadly, I doubt Cuba could manufacture of pair of sneaker like that today, eighty years later.

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Where's Punjab and his rug when you need him. "Yes, her, Punjab, that's the one, the self-satisfied 'do-gooder' over there.'"
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_11_1.jpg

("Y'know weh y'sposta go, right?" admonishes Alice, nervously buttoning Willie's new Namm's sweater, and surveying the boy for ill-placed hair. "P. S. 48," repeats Willie by careful rote. "Craws 18t' Aveneh, go up two blocks, n' it's awn me right." "*MY* right," repeats Alice. "Yeh right?" queries Willie. "No no,"corrects Alice. "Y'wawn'ney should t'ink yeh'r alliterate at school?" "Oh," shrugs Willie, glancing at Krause for assistance. "Yeh," nods Krause, tousling the boy's head. "Now whadja wawnna do t'at fawr," frowns Alice, slapping her husband's hand away. "Y'wan' he shoud look like a bum?" She runs the comb under the kitchen tap and slicks the boy's hair back down. "T'eh," she declares, assessing his appearance. "Ya look like William Powell. 'Cept y'ain'got no moustache. Now y' sueh ya know weh ya goin?" "Yeh," Willie nods, glancing at the wall clock." "HEY!" comes the voice of Sally, pounding on the door from the hallway. "YOU COMIN' A' NAWT?" "I'M COMIN'," shouts Alice. "Y'know weh y'sposta go, right?" "Yeh, Ma," exhales Willie. "Siddy," directs Alice, handing Willie her own lunch box, "Y'betteh wawk wit'tim. T'eh might be -- you know -- kidnappehs a' juvenlie d'linquents a' sumpn'..." "Aw, Maaaaa," whines the boy. Krause shoots him a squint and he ceases his protests." "C'm ON!" commands Sally from the hallway. "GONNA MISSA TRAIN!" "Weh's me dinneh pail?" scrambles Alice, spinning frantically around the kitchen. "I gotta have me dinneh pail!" "MY dinneh pail," smirks Willie, handing over the requested article. "No, t'at ain' -- oh, wait," halts Alice. "T'at IS me dinneh pail." Krause nudges Willie and they exchange a small grin as Alice kisses the boy atop the head, musses his hair, and scrambles out the door...)

Seven German political leaders, including the ex-mayor of Leipzig and one of the Nazi Party's most vicious killers, have been condemned to death for their part in the July 20th plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler. The Berlin Radio announced today that the notorious Nazi People's Court has passed sentence on the seven following a mock trial that Berlin boasted had "eliminated" the last of the key figures in the abortive revolution. London observers recalling earlier executions believed that the sentence has already been carried out. One of the defendants was Count Wolf von Helldorf, who earned a bloody reputation for his role in the Kurfuerstendamm Riots of 1932-33. It was said that von Helldorf, who was to be a prominent figure in the new German government had the coup succeeded, had joined the plot due to "past personal slights" by Hitler.

Influential friends of accused society jewel thief Mrs. Anne Taylor today had offeres of financial assistance in making her bail from several influential friends. Mrs. Taylor's attorney Elias H. Avram noted that several of these friends visited the accused in the Suffolk County Jail yesterday, but he declined to name them.

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("Tharr now," pronounces Ma, slapping the paper. "Y'see? As Oi've been sayyin' roit alaaang! They got nooo roit to baaaather noo games we gaaaht goin' aahn in th' back room tharr! We LIVE in this buildin', this buildin's aaaaar HOOOME, an' if Oi wanta invoite ovarr soom friends farrr a friendly game, why, they gaaaaht noo place interrrooptin'! We ain't annnoyin' noobody!" Uncle Frank snickers thru a sip of his two cents plain. "Oi bet'chee'd annoy th' Mayor," he chuckles. "He ain' invoited!" scowls Ma.)

Police have begun a drive to collect dangerous war souvenirs in all parts of the city, after the detonation of a bazooka rocket in a Bronx basement last week injured six boys. Among the articles of munitions collected so far from householders in the various boroughs are nine bazooka rockets of the same type as was responsible for the Bronx explosion, several large shells, tracer bullets, and an assortment of rifle and machine gun ammunition. Police say the items will be returned to their owners after the powder and the primers have been safely removed.

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("Well maybe next time you'll let me use notes!")

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("Hey," snorts Miss Kaplan, "I know t'at dame! T'at Mary Lynch! I run inte'r'eh when I useta woik at Roulston's up t'eh on 57t'. She tol' me I shawrt changed 'eh onna bawra t'at Koikman's terlet soap. I says 'whatcha kickin' fawr, it's a nickel, y'gimme a dime, I give y'a nickel back!' 'She sezta me, t'at ain' no real nickel, it's a Canadian nickel. Look 'eeh, t'eh ain' no Indian onneh, t'at's a King.' An' I sezt'weh 'it's a real King, t'ough. How you know t'em ot'eh nickels has a real Indian? Huh, lady, anseh me t'at!" Mozelewski looks up, impressed by the reasoning, but offers no reply. "An'NEN," Miss Kaplan resumes, "she t'rows t'soap at me an' says she's gonna write a letteh t'ol' man Roulston hisself.' An'nen I got fiehed. Don'cha hate people like'at?" Mozelewski looks up again, and sighs. "I kep' t'soap, t'ough," muses Miss Kaplan. "Done wondehs f'me complexion. Hey, I wondeh if t'at IS a real Indian onnem nickels?")

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(In his dingy little Shibe Park office, Manager Fred Fitzsimmons unfolds the telegram, fearing the worst. "DON'T LET THEM FATHEADS GET YA DOWN," he reads. "THERE IS MUCH WORSE FATHEADS IN BROOKLYN. ONE IN PATIKELAR. CHIN UP BIG BOY WE MISS YA. SIGNED A FRIEND." Fitz leans back in his chair, and sighs...)

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("Ewww, no!")

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("You GUESS so?")

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(You can tell he's evil because of his EVIL GOATEE OF EVIL!)

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("Don't be disappointed because of the papers you'll find in my strongbox. It was a moment of weakness!")

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(These people DESERVE to have their cooky stolen!)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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"Hmph!" hmphs a socially-prominent jewel thief. "NASSAU County!"

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"Forgot to pay the light bill again, didn't you Kay?" " "I thought that was YOUR job, Mae!"

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Take off the wig, Warbucks, we know it's you.

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He never DID like Crosby.

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In the Navy, wouldn't that be BOS'UN buddies?

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"Undercover Psychiatrist!"

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"Yeah, I'd go easy, lady -- that's that utility beef."

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"We age in real time here. Don't remind me!"

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"Wait'll after the war, though, I hear you'll be able to get a jeep packed in a crate."

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Yeah, that bad posture will kill you.
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_12_1.jpg

("Dream books!" snorts Sally. "Y'evveh heehra anyt'ing so stupid? T'inkin' sump'n ya dream's gonna help ya hit t'numbehs!" "Oh, I dunno," shrugs Alice. "I hadda dream oncet, right? I dreamt t'at t'eh was t'ree men ridin' awna wagon, wit' six barrels'a beeh inna back. An'na hawrse pullin'a wagon, right? He's got foeh feet, right? So I bet t'ree, six, foeh." "Didja win?" squints Sally. "Well, no," acknowledges Alice. "But t'nex' day, right, I seen t'ree men onna subway an'ney was tawkin' 'bout how afteh woik t'ey was gonna have a coupla beehs. Get it? T'ree men, two beehs each, t'at's six beehs." "Uh huh," eyerolls Sally. "An' NOT ON'Y T'AT," exclaims Alice, her eyes flaring. "One'a t'em men cleehed 'is t'roat FOUEH TIMES. He was HAWRSE, y'get it?" Sally shakes her head and exhales. "T'ez sump'n in it, Sal," declares Alice. "T'ez sump'n in dreams. Y'jus' gotta figyeh out what it is." "Too much cawrn beef f'ya suppeh," snickers Sally. "T'at's what's innit." "Oh no," insists Alice. "I neveh dream't 'bout no cow.")

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("Seems like awl we do," sighs Joe, hefting a heavy canvas roll onto the back of the truck, "is put t'is tent up an'nen take it down again. I t'ought t'ey was sendin' me oveh heeh t'be a cook, nawt t'be a -- whattaya cawl a guy t'at puts up a tent an' takes it down again?" "Technician fiff class," snickers the Corporal, as he inventories the gear on his clipboard. "I hate t' Awrmy," mutters Joe...)

Bands of vigilantes roaming the streets of Mattoon, Illinois in search of the mysterious "Madman of Mattoon," the phantom anesthetist who has terrorized the town over the past week, have led to an appeal from the jittery town's police commissioner for those vigilantes to lay down their weapons "before somebody gets shot." Commissioner Thomas V. Wright urged the self-allowed posses of armed men and boys to allow the police to do their work, and promised an arrest that will end the nightly forays by the skullcap-wearing mystery man who has gassed 35 persons so far, dispensing his gardenia-scented vapor thru open windows with a spray gun. The attacks have left the entire town in a state of agitation, with Wright noting that "the people have lost control of himselves in a manner that is unbelievable in the modern world," and he warned that someone is likely to get killed -- and not by gas. "I wouldn't walk thru anybody's backyard after dark," the commissioner declared, "for $10,000."

In Maine, a Republican landslide returned three GOP congressmen to office and elected Republican State Senate President Horace Hildreth the state's next governor. The final returns for the so-called "barometer election" held yesterday showed the largest margin of victory ever recorded by the GOP in the traditionally-Republican state. Although the saying "As Maine Goes, So Goes The Nation" has long been seen as a bellweather for the rest of the country, observers noted that Republicans also won Maine heavily in 1940.

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(It seems that during Eddie Bracken's current personal appearance booking at the Paramount, he took the stage and asked the audience "Is there anyone here from Brooklyn?" When Eagle movie critic Jane Corby stood up, along with many others, Bracken snickered and said "I thought there was a familiar odor in here." When the audience rumbled its dissatisfaction with this remark, Bracken hastened to add "but I'm from Queens," which did not improve the situation...)

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("Colonel!")

Brooklyn congressman Donald O'Toole has submitted a bill to ban the admission to the United States of any person found guilty of collaboration with the Nazis. The proposed legislation would permanently bar the entry into this country of such persons even as visitors. Rep. O'Toole mentioned such prominent accused collaborationists as actor Maurice Chevalier, boxer Georges Carpentier, and tennis star Rene Lacoste as examples of the sort of persons who might attempt to seek refuge in the United States.

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("Ahhhhh," bellows Hilda from her seat in Section 37, "eatcha hawrt out!")

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""That's why I'm going to put him under and sever his spinal cord. You in?"

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("Either there's a horse in the basement or somebody forgot to put out the garbage again!")

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(Never trust a man who wears a smock with a bow tie. A smock is properly worn with a flowing cravat.)

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("Oh my. I'll have to sell a lot more counterfeit first editions!")

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("AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG does not approve of ill gotten gains -- hey, is that GAINES?? My folks only feed me the store brand!")
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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You know, Tommy, you could just collect stamps...

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("I mean, honestly, have you BEEN to Riverhead? What else is there to do??")

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BROW IN BOX! BROW IN BOX! BROW IN BOX!

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Throw money at the problem? Gee, Warbucks, isn't that corset tight?

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"Half a buck and I won't tell Ma!"

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"Sigh. Not again."

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Opening scene of a college movie starring Carole Landis, Rosemary Lane, and Jinx Falkenburg.

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"Oh, nothing happened. Nothing EVER happens."

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"What does he know about, oh, obstetrics?" **sound of glass breaking**

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Classified Ads Get Results!
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_13_1.jpg

("What'sa woil' comin' teh!"" fumes Sally, stirring her Coke emphatically with her straw. "T'ese d'linquents, t'ese juvenile d'linquents, messin' up t'at liberry! It took'm foehty yeehs t'finish buildin'a place, an'nese punks go oveh t'eh an' write awl kin'sa junk awnit like it ain' nut'n! Somebody awta do sump'n!" "Oh," chuckles Uncle Frank," with a sip of his two cents plain, "tharr just spaaaarited yooth is aaahl. Noo real harrm doon. A stretch in th' Arrmy'll fix'm roit up." "I do'want Joe inna awrmy witta buncha juvenile d'linquents!" snaps Sally. "R'membeh t'at time he was inna subway pushin' a strolleh wit' Leonoreh innit an' some d'linquent stawrted sayin' 'papa's lit'l draft exemption' an' awlat? If Danny had'na showed up an' chased 'im awff, Joe woulda, well, maybe he wouldn'a done nut'n, but t'at don' make it right!" "Seems Oi remembarr," interjects Ma, "anoothar spaaaarited yoongstar used t'wroit ahhn waahls." "Heh," snorts Uncle Frank, "remembaar that toime Doyle picked 'arr oop farr wroitin' 'Free Sacco an' Vanzetti' on th' soide'a St. Francis oova 'Sisisi?" "It hadda be said," growls Sally. "B'sides, I was twelve yeehs ol'. Justa kid." "Ye wasn't a kid when ye wrote 'Free Pete Coscarart' ahhna toppa me countarr here!" scowls Ma. "I was testin' my pencil," mutters Sally, "an' I run outa napkin!")

French troops from the 7th and 3rd Armies forged a solid line thru central France today, and the Allies threw two other columns across the escape routes into Germany, sealing the fate of thousands of Nazis hopelessly trapped in southwest France. A headquarters spokesman said the junction in force of the two armies left threw two other columns across the escape route into Germany, sealing the fate of thousands of Nazis hopelessly trapped in southern France and leaving them facing the choice of death or capture.

American armored units crossing into Germany received a chill reception from the civilian population, with doughboys receiving none of the hails as liberating heroes that greeted them in France and Belguim. There were no welcoming flags and no cheering as the tanks and trucks rolled across the border. German civilians in one town gave the Nazi salute to the body of a fallen soldier in the street, and German women burst into tears at the sight of Nazi troops being hauled as prisoners in a trailer. American troops moving into German towns found plenty of chickens, pigs, and cows around, a stark contrast to the ravaged and barren farmyards the Nazis left behind when they fled the occupied nations.

Bandleader Tommy Dorsey and his wife were both indicted by the Los Angeles County Grand Jury yesterday on charges of felonious assault stemming from the brawl at their Sunset Plaza apartment last month that left movie actor Jon Hall with a blunted nose. Dorsey, the Sentimental Gentleman of Swing, was also charged with knocking down and kicking in the face Eddie Norris, ex-husband of Oomph Girl Ann Sheridan. Onlookers said Dorsey accused Hall of inapporpriately patting Dorsey's wife, film actress Pat Dane, with exactly where he patted her said to be the crux of the case. The case is expected to come to trial around Christmas.

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("Hmph," hmphs Alice, flipping thru the paper while Krause examines the new Popular Mechanics and Willie sprawls on the floor on his back, his head butting against the front of the radio, fully absorbed in "I Love A Mystery." "Awlese gangstehs!" she continues. "Y'neveh run inta no gangstehs at t' Ol' Reliable!" "Whassat Ma," queries Willie, as the action coming over the air reaches an unsettling climax and a sudsy voice begins to recommend the unique qualities of Ivory Flakes. "Whassa Ol' Reliable?" Krause shoots Alice a look over the top of his magazine. "Um," she scrambles, "it's -- uh -- a tea room. Yeh. A tea room weh -- ahhhhh -- nice ladies go f' lunch, an'nez white napkins an' doilies 'nawlat. An'ney drink tea like t'is 'eeh, see, witcha pinkie stickin' out." "You go t'eh?" snickers Willie. "Heh," hehs Krause.)

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(Welcome today's guest writer, Harold Gray.)

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("Hmph," hmphs Danny the Neck. "Amatchoors," agrees Jimmy the Chest.)

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(Dodgers would benefit a hundredfold? Well, let's not get greedy.)

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(Floating heads ruin everything!)

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(No old fish OR SO FORTH. That covers everything.)

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("He doesn't know they've already been killed!" HEY KIDS COMICS)

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(Bookstore owners rarely smile. Must be all the mildew.)

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(MY FLEAS LOVE IT!)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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That's the saddest engagement photo I've ever seen. Wonder when she's due?

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Betty LaDeaux has eight pairs of stockings from Namm's tucked under her coat.

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Poor Brow, he's getting too old for this.

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"And I don't care if Uncle Doc is six million years old, YOU are not getting me in any exam room!:

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Look, shouldn't you do something first about the name of your town???

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"Them store teeth is GOTTA be in here SOMEWHERE!"

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I hate it when people talk without taking the cigarette out of their mouth.

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"Besides, I just heard it crack."

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Panel Four -- Mr. Churchill, meet Mr. Stalin.

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When Emmy met Plushie she thought he was rich. GUESS SHE FOUND OUT.
 
Messages
17,220
Location
New York City
While there are definitely some meaningful distinctions, Sally's on shaking ground here.

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"ex-husband of Oomph Girl Ann Sheridan"

"Seriously! Enough already with the gratuitous 'Oomph Girl 'comments." - AS

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"Hmph," hmphs Danny the Neck. "Amatchoors," agrees Jimmy the Chest.

Dear Lord, who'd ever think we'd see the day when these two bozos would genuinely have the moral high ground.

***********************************************************

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Over in the Bronx, a very young future clothing designer, Ralph Lifshitz, sees a sweater he likes.
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_14_1.jpg

("Brunette stole cloe's 'n radio," scowls Sally, flipping thru the paper as she and Alice stand on the platform waiting for the train home."Why t'ey gotta put t'at?? 'Brunette stole cloe's 'n radio,' like bein' a brunette's got anyt'ing t'do wit' it." "I know whatcha mean," nods Alice. "Allatime inna papeh it's redhead does 'is, redhead does 'at." "I t'ought t'at was blondes,"shrugs Sally. "Whateveh," sighs Alice. "But t'pern' is, what's haieh even got t'do wit' anyt'ing!" continues Sally, her voice rising. "Inna papeh when some man does sump'n, do t'ey say, I dunno, tow-head man robsa bank? Do t'ey say 'gray haieh man goes t' Alcatraz f' tax evasion? Do t'ey say 'bawl-headed man arrested f' black mawrket coal'?' "HEY!" interrupts Alice. "Don' say nut'n 'bout no bawl-headed man. Bawl-headed men is awright. I don' go aroun' sayin' 'coily-haiehed man t'at looks like John Gawrfield branded love pirate!'" Sally gapes. "You take t'at back," she growls from a spot deep in the back of her throat. "You take t'at back, awr I sweah t'gawd I'm gonna..." "I take it back, I take it back," sputters Alice, her eyes flicking to the cinder track bed and the burnished rails below. "You betteh take it back," exhales Sally, the flush receding from her cheeks as quickly as it bloomed. "It's back," Alice insists,wiping a trickle of sweat from her eye. "It's way, way, way back.")

Governor Thomas E. Dewey resumed his campaign swing across the United States today following two days of conferences with cattle ranchers at Valentine, Nebraska and in his trip to Wyoming for the first time invaded a state headed by a Democratic governor. The Republican presidential nominee will deliver seven major campaign speeches between now and the November election, and is using his cross-country tour to sound out local sentiment in various regions on key campaign issues. He plans to meet in Sheridan, Wyoming today with local Republican leaders, sugar beet farmers, veterans, and officials of agricultural and livestock organizations. He will move on tonight to Billings, Montana, where he plans to hold similar conferences there.

American marines who broke up a Japanese baseball game during the battle of Tinian were surprised to find a bat autographed by Rogers Hornsby. Marine Pfc. Bill Benton told a correspondent for the United Press that he grabbed the bat and used to to "dent the skull" of a Japanese who tried to close in on him during the battle. None of the Marines could figure out why the Hornsby bat turned up in a Japanese encampment, but they are sending it along to Hornsby, now managing the Veracruz club in the Mexican League, with just a few nicks showing from its use as a battle weapon.

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("Oi got another woon'a thim poostcards fr'm Michael t'day," sighs Ma, holding up a small buff-colored missive bearing a German stamp. "Same as aaahl t'h oothars. 'Oi am healthy an' well treated. The potato soup is fine. And I am gettin' t'loike th' brown bread. We built a road. Love to all.' Oi don't loike it, Francis. You know he doon't wroite loike that." Uncle Frank takes the card and examines the scrawl on the back. "Eitharr he's been stoodyin' penmanship," he frowns. "or that ain' no wroitin' a his." "What d'ye make oovit?" wonders Ma. "Ye think he's oopta soomthin'? Is he wroitin' code aaahr soomthin'? Remembarr whin he wrote that farrst toime, an' we figyared oot he wanted oos t'look in'is troonk? He led is roit t'William. Ye don't s'pose he's troyin' t'tell oos..." "That he's got ANOOTHAR choild?" scowls Uncle Frank. "He nivver did have mooch self-control." "That's enoofa that, Francis Leary," snaps Ma. "Oi'm serious. Soomthin's oop." "Ye gettin' ahead a' yeself, Nora," dismisses Uncle Frank, twisting the cellophane off a fresh cigar. "Soometimes when ye WANT soomthin' t'be oop, y'can make it so in ye own imagination." "Oi didn't imagine th' laaast toime," reminds Ma, as Uncle Frank ponders that statement...)

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("Coming events...")

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(I thought Kenesaw has a shaggy mane of white hair, wears wing collars, and is the Commissioner of Baseball.)

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("You can count on one thing, the pennant winner won't be the A's." One more reason to say GO BROWNS!)

Remember Pete Gray, the one-armed outfielder who starred a few years back for the Bay Parkways? Pete's burning up the Southern Association these days with the Memphis Chicks, and yesterday he went five-for-five, punctuating his achievements by making a spectacular catch in the outfield to lead the Chicks to 7-6 12-inning playoff win over the Nashville Vols.

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("My knee!" "My face!")

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(Yes, by all means get the lodge treasurer interested in the ponies.)

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(Yes, Mother Army knows best.)

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(Because it's always a good idea to travel cross country with a stranger you picked up in the classifieds.)

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(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG HATES FIREWORKS!)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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"So I lost track! And not only that, I think I locked my keys inside!"

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"Heh," hehs Police Commissioner Lewis J. Valentine. "You know, Mister Mayor, if he put on a big hat..." "THAT'S ENOUGH OUT OF YOU," growls Butch. "But I was just..." "You know," frowns Butch, "if you put on a cap, YOU could impersonate a PATROLMAN."

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"Of course, he IS an old man now, and sometimes gets confused. I saw him yesterday listening to his car engine with a stethoscope!"

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I mean, it's just like Dude Hennick and Raven Sherman.

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MOO COW EYES! MOO COW EYES! MOO COW EYES!

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Imagine if they knew about that submarine.

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"Besides, we paid for three big features, and he's gonna GET three big features!"

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Shadow Smart, Flesh Peddler.

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"But what if we've already seen the picture?"

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They would never get away with this at Ma's place.
 

EngProf

Practically Family
Messages
608
"Of course, he IS an old man now, and sometimes gets confused. I saw him yesterday listening to his car engine with a stethoscope!"
Maybe he's just a good mechanic...
You can learn a lot by listening to the engine's internal sounds.
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
Brooklyn_Eagle_1944_09_15_1.jpg

("Whatta night," sighs Sally, kicking sodden trash out of the way as she and Alice approach the 18th Avenue BMT station. "T'em windows was shakin' so hawrd I t'ought t'ey was gonna blow in. Pooeh Stella was hid'n undeh t'bed, an' I was 'bout t'go downeh wit'teh. An' all t'ru it Leonoreh's sayin' 'it's jus' t'wind, Ma. It's jus' t'wind." "Siddy was up awl night," sighs Alice. "T'seweh was awl backed up t'eh, an'na basemen' was floodin', we had wawteh all oveh t'flooeh, an'nee was bailin' t'whole night. Didn' even bot'eh t' put 'is pants awn, he was bailin' innis shawrts. Y'know what I'm gonna gettim f'Chris'mas? Hip boots." "Lan'loehd awta put in a pump down'neh," frowns Sally as they ford a large puddle in front of the station entrance with a drowned rat lying feet up at its center. "An'ney oughta clean up t'is city while'eh at it. Awlat Moses does is run' is mout' 'bout afteh t'wawr, Butch awta put a broom in i's han' an' sen' 'im out t'do some real woik. Whole city's disgustin'." "Well," shrugs Alice, dropping her nickel in the turnstile, "at leas' las' night it got a good rinse.")

Red Army forces bombarded the Polish capital of Warsaw from the air and ground today as Soviet ground troops prepared to cross the Vistula in what appears to be the start of a major Russian drive into Germany. While Red Army bombers hit from the air, heavy artillery fired point blank into Warsaw to open a path for Marshal Konsantin K. Rossovsky's First White Russian Army, already concentrated in Praga on the eastern bank of the Vistula.

In Quebec, British Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden, his briefcase bulging, today joined President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill, after the President and Prime Minister concluded the military phase of their present consultation. The Foreign Secretary now joins the discussion to review international political problems that build with every new blow against Germany and Japan. There is expected to be at least one more full-dress conference with the President, Prime Minister, and their military chiefs of staff before the sessions conclude this weekend.

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("Ye shoulda seen it, Nora!" declares Uncle Frank, shaking his head as Ma shoves his two-cents-plain and a fresh roll of Tums across the counter. "Jimmy said th' tree coom down joost as'ee was coomin' up t'that intarsecction. He haad t'detoor aroond St. Marks Place t'get thru, an' went thru a puddle aaahlmoost swamped that poor troock!" "Well," dismisses Ma, her attention riveted on a pencil tablet opened before her, "what was th' bloody eedjit doin' oot thar in th' teeth oova starrm?" "Th' d'mand farr cigarettes knoos now boonds," shrugs Uncle Frank. "Big d'mand this week farr OOold Goolds. Moost be that Sinatra aaahn th' radio. Oi had Inky waarkin' late ahhn th' press t'get'm out." Uncle Frank punctuates his remark with a deep draught of seltzer, followed by a satisfying eructation. Ma shoots him a look, and resumes concentration with her pencil. "Here noow," queries Uncle Frank. "What's thaat ye warrkin' on tharr.""Oi'm troyin' t'figyarr oot what Michael meant boi that poostcard," declares Ma. "Thar's a message thar. 'Potato Soup an' Brown Bread.' Oi'm troyin' t'figyarr oot what that means. Ye can take 'Potato Soup' an' if ye throw away th' 'a' and one a' th P's y'get 'o-u-t-p-o-s-t.' That soonds loike it might be roit. Soom sarrta oondargroond ootpost." "Maybe," snickers Uncle Frank, "th' ootpost is at the A&P." Ma's eyes flash as she considers that possibility. "No, noo," she snaps. "Oi doon't think they GOT th' A&P in Garrmany.")

Services this weekend marking the Jewish holiday of Rosh ha-Shana will hail the liberation of European Jewry and offer gratitude to the fighting forces of the United Nations who are fightng to accomplish that liberation. Free reserved seats will be offered at temple services for all men and women in uniform. "The long night of Jewish humiliation and suffering," read a statement issued by the American Jewish Conference, "nears its end. Today our hearts rejoice at the sight of Jewish liberation in lands where only yesterday oppression was the order of the day."

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(Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick tick...)

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(The Cycle Of Life.)

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(GO BROWNS! But where's Sigmund Jakucki?)

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("OH!" **crumples to ground**)

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("A fin? You piker, make it a sawbuck!")

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(Look out for falling trees!)

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(Regrettable? THANKS FOR SPOILING IT)

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(AMERICA'S NUMBER ONE HERO DOG AND HIS BUMBLING SIDEKICK ARE ON THE JOB)
 

LizzieMaine

Bartender
Messages
33,766
Location
Where The Tourists Meet The Sea
And in the Daily News...

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And that's why you don't park on the street.

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Mr. Gable still needs time.

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Of all the people on this base, kid, THIS is the joker you're gonna work with?

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It's always the ugliest-looking men who are most like this.

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Bwah hah hah.

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Tomorrow: Lil joins the WAVES.

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Awwwwww.

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You know, we haven't seen anyone tied to a chair in an underground lair for a long time now...

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After all these years she should know better than to stand behind a swinging door.

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"And would they judge my sheets?"
 

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