The Era -- Day By Day

[Fading Fast]

"Let's slow down for a moment here, Annie. Turk isn't after me. So why don't you go and find our new setup while I stay here in comfort, umm, keeping an eye on Turk. Then, once you are established, you can send me a ticket - Pullman car, please - and I'll come. No use in both of us roughing it on the road."

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

Never any ''gratuitous cheesecake'' in the strips Ms Elizabeth dear, rather integral to storyline. Although admittedly
I slipped off a cloud this afternoon with Scarlett O'Neil. A swop less theology in the eyes what.
Now Terrence is getting it right. The girl assassin looks armed with a Sykes Fairbairn dagger. Its lethality beyond question, though despite thumbprint impres along blade, the Sykes sports an entirely too thin handle. Modeled after
the Roman Glaudius short sword down to its feet, Sykes is a barracks fix with leather wrap or electrical tape. One
lad sawed an atch ham bone in longitudinal halves, drilled screws down margin so expertly finished the regimental
Sergeant Major complimented him. Joke was the kid and all within ear were struck absolute dumb. All couldn't speak
for a week.

 

[Farace]

The first appearance of Vitamin Flintheart. I remember him from reading the comics when I was a kid in the ‘60s and ‘70s. Had no idea he’d been around that long.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("She's gonna be OK t'ough," says Alice. "Ain' she?" "Th' doctarr give 'arr a sedative," nods Ma. "She's been sleepin' evarr since. He says she should be foine woonce it aahl wears ahff." "What Oi waaant t'know," growls Uncle Frank, "is hooow she coom t' have -- what'd he caahl it again?:" "An ovarrdose a' benzedrine," sighs Ma. "OH." exhales Alice. "Ye knoww soomthin' aboot it, do ye? demands Ma. "Ooot with it, now, an' be quick aboot it." "T'is gal at woik," replies Alice. "She'sa supehviseh f'r oueh unit. She hands'em pills out when she sees ya laggin' on ya quota. Sal took one oncet, when she fois' stawrted oveh t'eh, she was bouncin' off t'woodwoik. She neveh tried it again, but she says t'me t'ot'eh day she ain' been sleepin' much, special' afteh awlat mess Sunday when we didn' get t'see Joe. She's takin' awlis wit' Joe bein' gawn a lot hawrdeh'n she's been lett'n on, y'know. A LOT hawrdeh. An' she's been draggin' at woik, makin' mistakes, an'nis supehviseh, she..." "Gimme a name," commands Ma. "This wooman at th' plant. Harr name!" Uncle Frank glowers, his hand in his pocket. "Is it that Kelly wooman?" he inquires in a low, hard voice. "We had trooble with harr before." "Look," stammers Alice. "How 'bout t'two'a'yez let ME handle'is? We don' want Sal gett'n in any moeh trouble, right? Jus' let ME handle'is." Ma and Uncle Frank exchange meaningful glances. "Aahll roit," nods Ma. "You do as ye see fit. But I swear t' ye, if thaat wooman evarr comes nearr Sally evarr again..." "I don' t'ink," declares Alice, her muscles tightening, "ya gotta worry 'bout t'at.")

Members of the Brooklyn Bar Association have delclined to endorse a bill pending before the state legislature that would ban discrimination in employment against any person on the basis of race, color, or religion. In voting not to recommend the bill, the Association based its position on a report by Louis Waldman, chairman of the group's Committe on Labor Problems and Industrial Relations, which concluded "Long before anyone has a right to sponsor such legislation, a long process of education is required. You cannot reform society by punitive legislation." Association member Louis Schwartz, however, deplored that vote. "I know lawyers are conservative," he remarked, "and they dread and fear anything new. However, it is still surprising that not one member of the committee is in favor of this bill."

(It's an old strategy -- toss it back and forth until it cools off.)

The chairman of the CIO's Political Action Committe denied today that CIO leaders have conferred with Communist Party general secretary Earl Browder about the committee's plan to have labor unions as the basis of representation within the American Labor Party. Committee chairman Sidney Hillman called the claim that Browder has issued "orders" to the CIO officials on the matter "an absolute lie." Members of the ALP's right wing claim the Hillman plan is "a scheme to deliver the American Labor Party into the hands of the Communists." Hillman, however, declared today that the ALP will be "the tail to no one's political kite."

("Life-bo-at," pronounces Leonora, gazing intently at the Eagle's movie page, spread out on the Ginsburgs' dining room table. "What's that now?" queries Mrs. Ginsburg. "Milton!" she calls. "This child!" "What is?" replies Mr. Ginsburg, stepping into the room just behind a cloud of pipe smoke. "Reading," marvels Mrs. Ginsburg. "A child her age -- reading! Did you ever see?" "No, no," dismisses Mr. G. "Too young. Must be she memorizes." "Joe," pronounces Leonora, her eyes moving down the page. "Gyu--eye na-am-ed Joe. PA! Nam-ed Joe!" "You were saying?" nods Mrs. G. "Remarkable," agrees Mr. G. "You might say, a prodigy." "Jun-j HO!" exclaims Leonora.)

(Isn't it hard to get paper bags for water bombing?)

(No Billy Herman, no ED HEAD ED HEAD ED HEAD. I wonder how the Bushwicks will do this year?)

Our old friend Luke "Hot Potato" Hamlin is holding out this spring, much to Connie Mack's annoyance. Hamlin, who won 20 for the Dodgers in 1939, was picked up by the Athletics over the winter after winning 21 games for the Toronto Maple Leafs in the International League last season, but he sent back a Philadelphia contract offer calling for a $4500 salary for 1944.

Another prominent spring holdout is hard-hitting outfielder Jeff Heath of the Indians. Heath, known for his outspoken attitude, and his role in the so-called "Cry Baby Rebellion" of 1940, declared this week "I don't want to play for Cleveland as long as the club won't trade me or pay me what I think I've got coming."

(With friends like that...)

("TINGLA??")

(Careful, Janie -- that's how sciatica starts.)

(There are seraphim and there are cherubim, but I don't know what you'd call this bunch.)

(Careful, now -- it's tough to get adopted when you're a Known Police Character.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

It was inevitable they'd get Joe. And somehow I get the feeling that this is a posed photo.

Sure are a lot of 2-year-old prodigies around.

The beginning of a beautiful friendship.

On the other hand, Cap'n Blaze didn't really go in for this sort of stuff -- he was always more about food and checkers. Who else do we know who might maintain a retinue of dancing girls.....?

Well, Tilds, if Margaret Hamilton can make a go of it..

SIC 'EM SANDY! I SAID "SIC 'EM!"

Well I didn't expect her to actually DO IT!

KIDS TODAY

Emmy was probably baptized once before, but I doubt it took.

Avast, ya swab!

 

[LizzieMaine]

Oh, and...

It's gonna be a long, excruciating summer.

 

[Fading Fast]

SIC 'EM SANDY! I SAID "SIC 'EM!"

"Are you nuts!? He's probably got a gun. This is exactly why I wanted to stay back until you got settled in. You sic 'em; I'm all for negotiations and appeasement."

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

Read about the Fundamentalists with all the loose change instead of a single dollar lifestyle.
How a working bloke could keep six wenches merry is beyond Shakespeare.

Rouge, gallows fugitive is boss lezbo. A real swinger.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("I still say y'shoulda lemme go back t'woik," growls Sally, idly stirring her Coke with her straw." "Ye haard what th' doctarr said," admonishes Ma. "Ye need ye rest. Ye went two whole days without sleepin' befaar ye even took that trash. Ye need t'build ye strength back oop befaar ye go back t'thim machines. Th' Westaarn Electric c'n get alaaang withoot ye till Moonday." "I wanna see Leonoreh," fumes Sally. "An' who's lookin' afteh Stella?" "Francis is ovar there roit now pickin' up Leonora t'bring her ovarr here, an' whin I taalked t'Mrs. Ginsbarrg, she told me she went oopstairs an' saw to ye cat. Ye cat is foine." "I still don' like it," mopes Sally. "Me, absenteein' f' two whole days. I'll neveh live it down. Joe out t'eh at camp, an' me sitt'n'eeh drinkin' Cokes." "Joseph is doin' his duty, daughter," assures Ma, "an ye been doin' yaars. But noobody's made a' iron, y'know. We aahl break down soomtimes." "I wisht I was t'one inna Awrmy," mutters Sally. "I shoulda been t'one t'ey took. Joe ain't no good wit' no guns." "Haaanestly, daughter," dismisses Ma. "Th' way you taaahlk." "Well," erupts Sally, "whattabout awlem Russian gals -- snipehs an' drivin' tanks an' blowin' up bridges an'awlat. An' me, sitt'neah twistin' little wiehs in a factr'y in Joisey." "Ye doin' ye paart daughter," insists Ma. "Ye doin' maaar thin I did durin' th' laaast war, why..." Ma's story, however, is interrupted by the ringing telephone. "Lieb's," answers Ma. "Oooh! Ooh yes! She's roit heere. Sally! Step ovarr here to th' phone, an' be quick with ye. She's coomin now, put 'im ahhhn." "H'lo?" says Sally, taking the receiver. "JOE! Howcome t'eh lett'n ya -- T' Red Crawss? Who cawlt t'Red Crawss? She did?? Alice done'at?? An'ney tol'ya what happen--- yeh, I'm fine, I'm awl OK, it;s jus' t' docteh is bein' a -- well, I will, I'm jus' down 'eeh now havin' a Coke, sump'n t' pass t' -- you KNOW I don' like layin' aroun' in -- yeh, well, I'll go back lateh, I'm busy right now tawkin' t' YOU. Yeh. She's fine, t' Ginsboigs took good caehr'veh. Misteh Ginsboig says she read t' funnies to 'im las' night. Oh, no, most'a t'at stuff'll go right oveh'reh head. I'm gonna be fine, Joe, I'm gonna take it easy -- yeh, an' 'nen I'm goin' back t'woik on Monday. -- No, I didn't paint no woodwoik! Very funny. No, an' I ain' neveh takin' no moehra t'at stuff evehr'again. I prawmise, yeh. -- Yeh, toity-five days -- I been count'n'm. -- Oh, don' worry'bout t'at, jus do like Uncle Frank tol'ya an' don' close ya eyes when ya squeeze t'triggeh. JOE! You can't say t'at kin'a stuff oveh t'phone -- can ya? Well..." Sally steps close to the mouthpiece, obscuring her next words. "Yeh," she resumes. "An'nen some. Yeh, I will. You know I do. Yeh. Awright. Yeh......" Sally silently hangs up the receiver and sighs. "He's neveh gonna get t'hang'a gun shootin'," she shrugs. "He moit suprise ye," offers Ma. "I betteh get upta bed," Sally declares, taking a final sip from her glass. "It's on'y toity-five days, an' I need t' rest up.")

An appeal to "Jeffersonian Democrats" to join with Republicans against the Roosevelt Administration in November was sounded yesterday by Queens County Republican Leader Warren Ashmead. Speaking before a meeting of the Queens Village Republican Club, Ashmead declared that the "good old Jefferson Democrats will redeem their party," and predicted that, with their help, Governor Dewey will be elected President this fall. He also predicted that Republicans will increase their plurality in Queens from 35,000 in 1940 to at least 50,000 in 1944.

(No. Just no.)

Humorist Irvin S. Cobb died yesterday at the age of 67. The well-known sage of Paducah, Kentucky was in New York at the time of his death, which followed a lengthy illness. A letter left to be opened at his death contained directions for his funeral service, during which, he declared, "none present shall look upon my face, and none shall don the bogus habilments of the so-called mourning." He also insisted that his body not be dressed in any sort of funeral attire. "If anybody tries to insert any of those dismal numbers run up by the Undertakers' Dressmaking Department," the humorist wrote, "I'll come back and ha'nt 'em." Cobb directed that his ashes be deposited, during the planting season, at the base of a dogwood tree in Paducah. "If that tree lives," he wrote, "that shall be monument enough to me."

(You ain't seen nothin' yet.)

("There, there, Mrs. Magerkurth...")

(Sorry, folks, but there is only one Pete Reiser. Which is both fortunate and unfortunate.)

Baseball mourns the passing of Big Dan Howley, former manager of the Browns and Reds, who, while piloting Cincinnati in 1931, whipped into line a fresh young shortstop named Leo Durocher, who had been waived out of the American League for his indelicate ways.

(Look kid, at least finish puberty first.)

(It's all perfectly innocent.)

("Oh, and what's with your left arm?)

(I swear I've seen this movie.)

(TOO CLEVER FOR YOUR OWN GOOD.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"I tell you again, IT WASN'T ME!" -- Chas. Chaplin.

Mr. Gray needs to take a vacation.

Hmph. MY mother used to threaten to sell ME to the baby oil factory.

Only one guy got his pocket picked? That's impressive.

Damn, he's smooth.

Hmmm. Does Lil know about that pin-up?

GAWDAWMIGHTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"You were expecting maybe Adolph Zukor?"

Flattop's expression in panel two -- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Every now and then you realize just how strange this household really is.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Ah, for the days when they played for the love of the game...

 

[Fading Fast]

"But that was the back door -"
"Of course - and it's a secret - just between us!"
"But we're going to serve ice cream right here in the canteen."
"Later, I hope right now we have some dancing to do -"

This all can't be innocent wording by Monte Barrett; he had to do this intentionally.

 

[LizzieMaine]

I'm reminded of a dopey pop tune from 1935 which includes the indelible lyric "I'm his Eskimo Pie, and he's my ice cream cone! Yummy yum!

 

[ChiTownScion]

No

I'm reminded of a dopey pop tune from 1935 which includes the indelible lyric "I'm his Eskimo Pie, and he's my ice cream cone! Yummy yum!

No more dopey than the 60's tune, "My Boy Lollipop."

I've been a sucker for a few women over the decades, but never their "Boy Lollipop." Did I miss a defining life experience?

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

I found the ? ''if an employer of prostitutes took them across state lines would this violate the White Slavery Act
if on holiday'' interesting legal doggerel. Yes. And the circas with all its extramarital affairs and murder.

Who is Blaze Starr or Cherry Blaze here? Boss lezbo? She seems straight whiskey neat with musclesmustache.
But the look is definitely leopard spot lesby. Sort of a Theresa May in leopard skin heels.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Cheery Blaze is the daughter of Captain Blaze, roisterous British pirate turned arms dealer who supplies the Chinese Resistance. The Captain is a friend and ally of Pat and Terry, but Cheery hates her father with a burning passion, and also hates Pat for using her in a scheme to escape from the Japanese invaders who had take over her father's mountain hideout. That scheme ended with her being sold as a bride to Singh-Singh, the gentleman with the extravagant moustache -- a former Russian professional wrestler turned arms smuggler who had dealings with the Captain.

All this was four years ago. As we predicted at the time, Cheery has taken full command of the situation and has no doubt found new and expanded opportunities. We last saw the Captain escaping from a cholera boat into Hong Kong, so whether he will show up soon remains to be seen. If he does, I seriously doubt he will be in any kind of an alliance with his daughter -- who is motivated in pretty much everything she does by pure unalloyed hate.

What she will make of Burma will be quite something to see.

 

[Fading Fast]

Cheery Blaze is the daughter of Captain Blaze, roisterous British pirate turned arms dealer who supplies the Chinese Resistance. The Captain is a friend and ally of Pat and Terry, but Cheery hates her father with a burning passion, and also hates Pat for using her in a scheme to escape from the Japanese invaders who had take over her father's mountain hideout. That scheme ended with her being sold as a bride to Singh-Singh, the gentleman with the extravagant moustache -- a former Russian professional wrestler turned arms smuggler who had dealings with the Captain.

All this was four years ago. As we predicted at the time, Cheery has taken full command of the situation and has no doubt found new and expanded opportunities. We last saw the Captain escaping from a cholera boat into Hong Kong, so whether he will show up soon remains to be seen. If he does, I seriously doubt he will be in any kind of an alliance with his daughter -- who is motivated in pretty much everything she does by pure unalloyed hate.

What she will make of Burma will be quite something to see.

In my Clover Press read, I have a feeling I'm just about to meet Cherry and the Captain, whom I first met when these Day by Days started, but as always, your reviews are very helpful. Also, I just met Sanjak, quite the character.

I know you explained this to me before - International touchiness is the shorthand I have in my head from that explanation - but it still seems odd to me that Caniff, until WWII, couldn't call the Japanese army by its name and, instead, had to say "the invader." It's not like it was a secret that the Japanese had invaded China in the '30s.

 

[LizzieMaine]

That was an edict handed down by Joseph M. Patterson, publisher of the Daily News, and head of the Tribune-News Syndicate. He had direct supervisory authority over all the strips distributed by the syndicate, and he was also, like his cousin Col. R. R. McCormick of the Tribune, a staunch isolationist. He refused, at first, to allow any depiction of the war at all in Terry, but finally relented under the condition that Caniff never mention Japan by name for fear that it would be used as propaganda by pro-China activists in the US.

Caniff chafed under this requirement, but obeyed -- pushing it as far as he could. You might recall during the storyline featuring Hu Shee, Bucky Wing, and Dr. Ping, he showed a maurauding Invader plane which clearly bore the Japanese meatball. He got a call from Patterson that day ordering him never to do it again, and he obeyed -- until Pearl Harbor made the whole business irrelevant.

I love the Captain -- as much as one can love a fat gun-running pimp -- and I do hope his return is imminent. Or at least I hope Cheery hasn't had him killed, which she is certainly capable of doing.

Flashback to December 7, 1939 as we meet Cheery for the first time. Family Values.

 

[FOXTROT LAMONT]

Cheery certainly appears a caustic tart. Mafalda might be forced to submit to her because
the vibe hive jive buzz is lesbian witch boss bitch her here and now.

I love all these characters of Terrence.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Siddy," begins Alice, gazing across the basement at her husband, who is showing young Willie how to rebuild a leaking steam valve, "yeh'ra smawrt guy." "Yeh," nods Krause, sliding his cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other as he shows Willie how to grind off the crimp holding the needle assembly in place. "Well," continues Alice, "lemme askya sump'n. S'pose -- well, s'pose t'eh was t'is poisson t'at's done some t'ings in 'eh life she ain' too proud of, an' she's tryin', y'know, t'wawk t'straight'n narreh." "Yeh," nods Krause, absorbed in his work. "An' s'pose," continues Alice, "t'at t'is poisson has a frien', maybe t'bes' frien' she's eveh had. An'nis frien' has sump'n bad happ'n 'caus'a sump'n some ot'eh poisson done." "Yeh," replies Krause, securing the valve needle in his drill press, and showing Willie how to carefully sand off the corrosion and built-up scale. "An' s'pose t'is foist poisson, y'know, t'help out t'is frien' -- um -- done sump'n t't'is ot'eh poisson so t'ey wouldn' cause no moeh trouble fl't'eh frien'." "Ah," nods Krause, examining the valve by the light of the dangling bulb as Willie looks on in awe. "An'nis t'ing t'fois' poisson done -- well," hesitates Alice. "An' s'pose what t'ey done -- well, it wasn' too -- um -- well, s'pose it wasn' too -- uh -- nice." "Mmm," replies Krause, clearing off a few scattered metal filings with a fine wire brush. "Would ya say," queries Alice, "t'at t'fois' poisson is still a -- you know -- good poisson?" Krause turns around and ponders his wife, seated pensively on an ash barrel, her hands extended in supplication. He takes his cigar out of his mouth. "Yeh," he nods.)

Long-range Army Liberator bombers, continuing heavy attacks against Japanese bases in the Carolines, blasted Ponape and Kusaie on Thursday, while Army, Navy, and Marine warplanes bombed three enemy positions in the Marshalls. Pacific Fleet headquarters announced the raids today, noting that no fighter interception was encountered, and all planes returned safely to their bases.

Denouncing their superiors as tratitors, the Yugoslavian ambassador to Russia and his chief military attache yesterday announced their abandonment of the government of King Peter, and aligned themselves with the Partisan movement led by Marshal Josip "Tito" Broz. Ambassador Stanoy Stimitch and Lt. Col. Miodrag Lozich, in a statement published in the Soviet press, advised the leaders of the Yugoslav People's Army of Liberation that they no longer consider themselves representatives of the rival regime headed by Premier Bozhidar Puritch and that effective immediately they are "placing themselves at Tito's service." Both officials charged that the Puritch regime is preventing Yugoslavs abroad from joining the Partisan forces in their battle against the Nazis, with Lozich noting that every effort he has made to organize Yugoslavs into fighting units have been foiled by the royal government.

Meanwhile, youthful King Peter of Yugoslavia arrived by plane in London last night, where he is to confer with Prime Minister Winston Churchill and Foreign Minister Anthony Eden to discuss proposals to unify the royal forces led by Gen. Draja Mihailovich with those of Tito. Those proposals include an offer to assign Mihailovitch's forces exclusively to Serbia and Montenegro while Tito's units would conduct their efforts in the rest of the country, with neither Tito no Mihailovich to be recognized by the Allies as the "sole commander" of Yugoslav forces. A joint military committee with forces drawn from both groups would be formed, with its base to be established on one of the liberated Dalmatian Islands, under the supervision of American and British generals.

("See t'eh?" says Sally, pointing to the photo. "T'at's Leo, t'at y'eh named afteh." "LeoNORA," emphasizes the child. "Well, yeh," concedes Sally, "ya named half afteh my ma, t'at's Nora, an' half afteh Durocheh heeh, t'at's Leo. See, if you was a boy, ya pa an' me, we was gonna name ya Leo, 'cause t'Dodgehs was winnin'a pennant t'yeeh you was bawrn. An' if you was a goil, we was gonna name ya Nora, afteh ya gramma. But, see, when it was time f'ya t'be bawrn, see, we was at a bawl game oveh t'eh t'Ebbets Feel, an' I whatchacawl wen' inta labeh right up t'eh in Section T'oity Seven. So we figyehed, y'know, 'Leo-Nora.'" "Oh," nods Leonora. "Heeza BUM." "Well, yeh," shrugs Sally, "t'at'sa trouble wit' namin' afteh somebody. Y'neveh know how it's gonna come out. Maybe someday, t'ough, he'll win ano'teh pennant, an' he won' be a bum no moeh, huh?" "SPPPPPPPPT," argues Leonora. "Well," shrugs Sally, "y'gotta pernt...")

A 49-year-old civilian employee at the Brooklyn Navy Yard is being held on $5000 bail on charges that he sold obscene materials to sailors. Leonard Rosenbaum of 15 New Lots Avenue, a fire watcher at the yard, was arraigned yesterday before Federal Commissioner Martin C. Epstien for allegedly selling lascivious postcards, and entered a plea of innocent. He was ordered held for action by a Federal grand jury.

(Well, she doesn't look very HAPPY about it.)

The Eagle Editorialist warns that when the final reckoning for Nazi depravity across Europe is taken, "cultivated Germans" will bear their full share of responsibility for the rise of Adolf Hitler. "The cultured, influential, and wealthy classes of Germany were one with Hitler when he was ascendant," notes the EE, "putting aside whatever scruples and principles they may have had and accepting the racial and national obsessions basic to his ideology. They cannot disassociate themselves from his cause at this late date and hope to impress clear minded people with their 'sincerity.'"

The EE also marks the death of Judge Peter J. Brancato, recalling him as "one of the most colorful jurists in the city," known for treating young offenders with compassion and leniency, even as he brought the full measure of the law down on racketeers and hardened criminals.

(Going to spring training with no infield? And Dolph Camilli laughed and laughed.)

The Jewish Community House of Bensonhurst tonight hosts a Red Cross benefit basketball game pitting the J. C. H. Five against the Bendix Cagers. With sports celebrities such as Sid Luckman, Al Schact, Lt. Cmdr. Clair F. Bee and Lou Oshins on hand, the event figures to pack all Bensonhurst into the gym.

("This Petrauskas girl, this Leonora," comments Mr. Ginsburg, looking up from this week's Trend. "She should be tested. Her mind, they should test." "Oh, let her be a child," dismisses Mrs. Ginsburg. "Such potential," shrugs Mr. Ginsburg. "At two, she reads. At three, probably she writes. At five, who knows? A prodigy. I'll talk to Dr. Minkoff, at the college. I used to sew his suits. He owes a favor." "Milton," exhales Mrs. Ginsburg. "Talk first to her mother, at least. Talk first to Mrs. Petrauskas. Maybe she'd rather not. Maybe a little girl should just be a little girl." "I'll talk to Dr. Minkoff," resolves Mr. Ginsburg. "But," he adds, noting his wife's frown, "maybe later." )

Jackie Cooper is a grizzled movie veteran at age 20 -- having spend nineteen of those years before the camera. He made his first screen appearance when he was barely able to walk, appearing in a two-reel comedy with the late Lloyd Hamilton, directed by his uncle Norman Taurog. He later rose to prominence in the Our Gang comedies before beginning his starring career in features with "Skippy." Today he stars in the startling new Monogram Pictures melodrama "Where Are Your Children," now showing at the Brooklyn Fox, a hard-hitting film that examines the growing problem of juvenile delinquency.

Funeral services for Dr. Hendrik Wilhelm Van Loon, prominent historian who died yesterday at the age of 62, will be held Thursday in Greenwich, Connecticut. Dr. Van Loon, who achieved fame for his self-illustrated historical books, died of a heart attack at his home. The Dutch-born historian came to the United States at the age of 21.

("You're too pretty to be a killer." BANG!)

(There aren't too many jobs where you report to work, get undressed, and go to bed...)

("Hob'ble-de-hoy -- n. origin unknown -- A youth between boy and man, an awkward, ungainly fellow." IT SAYS NOTHING HERE ABOUT INVISIBLE.)

(And at the theatre, in the production of our radio show, I use some of Mr. Valentino's sound effect records to this day. His "Rain, Wind" recording is one of the better ones available. And "Dead Lobster On A Plate" is a painting you see around my town all the time.)

(Obey the warning signs, Junior.)