The Era -- Day By Day

[Fading Fast]

You eveh see Kilgallen eat'na plate'a macaroni 'n cheese at t'Awtehmat? You eveh see Kilgallen at Ebbets Feel?

Both of those are Kilgallen's loss.

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Forgive me an edit: "Of course, if any Nazi officers or scientists would like to work for us..." "What?" "Nothing."

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If they can't get him for spying, they should shoot Will Colepaugh simply on grounds of utter stupidity.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("T'enda t' fightin' in Europe is not in sight," reads Sally. "Well, don'NAT make me glad t'be alive." "Jus' cause it ain' in sight don' mean it ain' comin'," notes Alice. "Maybe y'don' see a train comin', but t'at don' mean it ain'neh." "Yeh," sighs Sally. She scans the page, wrinkling her nose at the Valentine's Day photo, and her eyes pause on one of the small items. "Huh," she huhs. "Some lady lawst 'eh son's Poiple Hawrt. You eveh see one'a t'em? Solly Pincus, r'membeh when he was home on foilough las' yeeh? He showed me his. Got a pitchehr'a George Washin'ton onnit, hangs awffa poiple ribbon." "I guess," observes Alice, "Joe's gonna get one'a t'em. T'ey give'm t', you know, guys get wounded." Sally considers that thought and sighs. "Joe won' caeh nut'n 'bout t'at," she predicts. "He don' weah no jew'lry. One yeeh f'r'is boit'day I give 'im' 'eeze cufflinks t'ey had at Woolwoit's. Didn' even know what t'do wit'm. He punched holes innis shoit cuffs one time an' he had 'em awn when we wen' t'Roselan'. But we was doin'nis routine, see, an' one'v'm flew out t'hole an' bounced offa Chawrlie Bawrnet's drummeh's cymbal. He neveh woehr'm none afteh t'at." "Yeh," shrugs Alice. "But -- you know, a medal. T'at's sump'n." "Solly Pincus didn' t'ink mucha his," Sally notes. "Said when he was in Nawrt' Africeh, t'ey was handin' 'em out like pawrty favehs. Joe ain' gonna caeh nut'n 'bout no medals." She is silent for a long moment. "He won't," she sighs. "Maybe I will...")

("Oi taaalked t'ye friend Garrity," declares Ma. "He says he's gonna get me some REAL cig'rettes boi th' enda this week." "Garrity taaalks a lot farr a small-toime jahhber," scoffs Uncle Frank "Well, Oi gaatta have SOOMTHIN' t'sell," insists Ma. "Thim things you been makin', Oi sell a pack, they smook one, an' nivver coom back! That's noo way t'build a trade!" "It's that Bink Scanlan," complains Uncle Frank. "She woon't stick t'th' recipe! Poots in too moocha this, naaahtanoofa that, an' Oi tell'er t'do it roit, she joost snaps 'arr goom at me!" "Roobish," declares Ma. "Oi gaaaht that garrl trained. Oi say 'joomp,' she says 'how high." "She's afraid'a you," notes Uncle Frank. "She ain't afraid'a ME. Didjee knoow what she caaahls me? She caaahls me FATTY! Oi ASK ye!" Ma's stern facade crumbles as she erupts in a loud belly laugh. "Ahhhhh, that ain't noothin'," Ma chuckles. "R'membarr what OI uset'a cahhl ye." "Don'chee DARE tell'arr THAT," pleads Uncle Frank. "Oi wouldn' think'oov it," smirks Ma. "Nivver moind, thin," sighs Uncle Frank. "Farrgit Oi said anything." "Anything ye say," smiles Ma. "Booterbaaaahll.")

In Valley Stream, Long Island, two men and a woman were arraigned on charges of running an indecent floor show at Johnnie's Night Club in that town. Night club owner John J. Giorgetti of Malverne, proprietor of the club was arrested during a police raid, along with dancer Ethel R O'Day, who performs under the name of "Colette," and Pat O'Day, both of Manhattan. The defendents have all pleaded not guilty. Giorgetti and Miss O'Day have been released on bail, while Pat O'Day, unable to raise bail, remains in jail pending trial.

(Marie "The Body" McDonald? Well, I guess that's better than billing yourself as "The Queen Of Coney Island.")

(How's that basketball spread?)

(And not only that, imagine the savings on the cost of shipping sportswriters around the country!)

("Big a' me, big a' you, it's big of all of us!")


(WELL THEN I GUESS THE BIG FAT HEAD DOESN"T WANT HIS SLIPPERS!)

(Not only that, where is he getting those cigars?)

("If only I had the power to cause rodents to do my bidding!")

(Has there ever been a dad in this strip who isn't an idiot?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

What ever became of Tommy Manville?

Desperate times, desperate methods.

Sorry, Patrick, but you're being a real ass here. DL was leading guerilla troops against The Invader when you were poncing around Hong Kong in a white dinner jacket.

*snif*

"Ahhh, what's the difference..."


Doesn't it hurt your hips to sit like that?

I knew we'd get around to this eventually.

MELVIN SHUT UP! MELVIN SHUT UP! MELVIN SHUT UP!

"Well, I guess I'm off the hook for Mother's Day."

I tried this exact line on my grandfather once, and he didn't think it was funny at all.

 

[Fading Fast]

In Valley Stream, Long Island, two men and a woman were arraigned on charges of running an indecent floor show at Johnnie's Night Club in that town.

Nude beaches, indecent floor shows – there must be something in the water in Valley Stream.

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"Hangover Square" is not quite up there with "Of Human Bondage," but it is still a pretty painful tail of unrequited love.

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Lichty hit the center of the target with this one.

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The Chameleon Bride would have made a heck of a pre-code movie, but there is no way it's getting made in 1945 Hollywood. Also, putting the immorality and illegality aside, that could not have been easy to do – this woman obviously has some talents. BTW, she'll do fine in prison.

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Sorry, Patrick, but you're being a real ass here. DL was leading guerilla troops against The Invader when you were poncing around Hong Kong in a white dinner jacket.

Yes, plus, even his logic about this isn't sound.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Justa minute," delays Sally, as Alice ascends the stairs into the foyer. "I wanna check th' mail." She unlocks her box in the wall, and is disappointed to find nothing more than a sales circular advertising a Namm's coat sale. "Nut'n from Joe," she sighs, slamming the box shut. "Aw, you know how t'mail is," reassures Alice. "Y'll prob'ly getta whole stack'v'm awl at once." They swing open the front door and pause on the stoop to breathe in the cold morning air. "Lookit awlis mess," grumbles Sally, her galoshes crunching into the snow. "I can't stand winteh. Ain' ya husban' gonna t'row some ashes out 'eeh, somebody could get killed." "Siddy was up awl night wit'tat berleh," explains Alice. "I tol' Willie t'row some ashes b'foeh'ee goes t'school. Hey, did I tell ya, he come home yestehday wit' a valentine. F'rm'nat Conlin goil lives ovehr'awn Sixty-Fois'. S'got a pitcheh of a WAC onneh, makin' wit'a kissy face, an' she's sayin' 'You Might Have A Fightin' Chance Wit' Me!' Ain'at cute?" "Seven yeehs ol'," sighs Sally as they crunch around the corner onto 18th Avenue. "Kids t'day grow up quick. Ma woulddn'a put up wit'tat. I eveh senna boy a Valentine when I was seven, she'd'a laid me out in lavendeh. But I'll tell ya, it kep' me outa trouble." "Yeh," snickers Alice. "Till Rudy Vallee come alawng." "I neveh shoulda tol'you about t'tat," mutters Sally, as they head toward the station and another day...)

A new "standby plan" for the reconversion of American industry to civilian production has been ordered by War Mobilization Director James F. Byrnes, it was learned today. The order, issued by Byrnes just before he left for the recent Big Three conference in the Crimea directed War Production Chairman J. A. Krug to work out the new blueprint by February 23rd, and Krug immediately assigned a special staff to see to the work. Preparation of the plan has taken place behind closed doors, but is said to be nearing completion. It has been emphasized, however, that work on the plan does not mean that the Government believes the end of the European war is imminent, and Byrnes himself, upon his return to Washington from the three-power conference, stressed that the Allied leaders do not anticipate a sudden German collapse.

("Hmph," hmphs Ma. "'Miss Soobways.' They nivver wint in farr sooch naaahnsense when Sally waaarked at Schrafft's." "She was oonly tharr a week," recalls Uncle Frank. "Noot even laaang enoof t'be Miss Express, let aloon a local!" "Foony man," scowls Ma. "That was a good jaahb too, a laaat better'n she had at Woolwaarth's. Pity she coouldn' keep it." "Ye know how she is," chuckles Uncle Frank. "She sees that maaaaaartgage laaawyarr fr'm th' Brooklyn Troost sittin' tharr, an' harrr carryin' that plate a' beans. Ye know fool well that was too mooch'va temptation. Boot noo harm doon, I went doown an' taaaalked with 'im. He nivvar pressed no charges. Droov'a harrd bargain, thoo, took two cases a' me foinest Scaaatch. What WAS his name -- O'Reilly soomthin', was it? O'Flaherty?" "O'Malley," corrects Ma. "Ahhhh, yes," nods Uncle Frank. "Woondar whoot evarr happen'ta him?")

("Of course, as a commissioned officer, I could always get some dumb corporal to take care of the rinse.)

'
(I mean, what's next? Ballplayers advertising betting books?)

("Ranygazoo?")

(Well, I certainly wouldn't want this idiot around any daughter of mine!)

(Oh, by all means. Take the whole day. TAKE THE WHOLE WEEK.)

(Sounds foolproof to -- oh, wait, there's Tubby.)

(Shhh, you'll wake the bats.)

(Rabies? No, he's just naturally stupid!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Those who live by Page Four shall perish by Page Four.

"I am sure," sniffs Mr. Rickey, "that Mr. Wyatt will very much enjoy Oakland. Many elderly persons find the Northern California climate bracing."

Wheresoever Gertie walks, none may follow...

Bim dead, Warbucks dead -- truly these are perilous times for funny-paper billionaires.

"You know, in the city they can't get chickens at all. Um, is that hatchet still in the barn?"

Ask, and it shall be revealed unto you...

This has nothing to do with the war, does it Pat?

"While U Wait."

Still don't wanna try the Tootsie Rolls?

 

[Fading Fast]

"Yeh," snickers Alice. "Till Rudy Vallee come alawng." "I neveh shoulda tol'you about t'tat," mutters Sally,

Alice keeps that one in her hip pocket all the time.

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"She was oonly tharr a week," recalls Uncle Frank. "Noot even laaang enoof t'be Miss Express, let aloon a local!"

Frank sees Sally with the clear eyes that Ma won't: he respects her; knows she's intelligent; I think he even likes her; but he also knows she's a bit insane.


"...What WAS his name -- O'Reilly soomthin', was it? O'Flaherty?" "O'Malley," corrects Ma. "Ahhhh, yes," nods Uncle Frank. "Woondar whoot evarr happen'ta him?"

I have a feeling Mr. O'Malley the mortgage lawyer will be popping up in the future.

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"You know, in the city they can't get chickens at all. Um, is that hatchet still in the barn?"

Frank reads the "funnies" and lets out with a big sigh as Ma glances over.