The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

So how's the summer going with you?

"Huh," huhs Alice. "Hey, y'know what? When you was t'rowin ya skivvies at Vallee at t' Paramount -- t'is gal heeh was jus' six yeehs ol'." "Shut up," growls Sally.

Sure, the Brow's a sadistic psychopath, but he's a WELL GROOMED sadistic psychopath.

"You're not gonna tell me how you got here, are you?" "No, it's more fun this way."

"Let's you and him fight."

Just about big enough for one pair of underpants.

Yeah, that's always a plus.

At least he's good at marketing.

And to think that in civilian life he was a tailor.

Nobody likes mosquitoes.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Yeah, wasn't "Dolph Camilli Day" a lot of fun?

 

[Fading Fast]

Frank better get to work with his government "connections" and gin up some "legal" adoption papers back-dated for the boy, and fast.

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

"A Christmas movie, released in July, from a novel by Somerset Maugham, with Deanna Durbin and Gene Kelly -- and musical numbers??? Something for everyone!"

You need six months to get over being depressed from this one, which should get you in the right frame of mind just in time for the real Christmas.

My comments on "Christmas Holiday" here: #30,280

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

""Huh," huhs Alice. "Hey, y'know what? When you was t'rowin ya skivvies at Vallee at t' Paramount -- t'is gal heeh was jus' six yeehs ol'." "Shut up," growls Sally."

You gotta luv Alice.

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

It took me a minute to connect frizzy-haired nineteen-year-old "Bettejane Greer" to the smooth-haired ice princes from "Out of the Past."

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Well hello William!" greets Ma, as the screen door creaks open. "Annd you as well, Mistarr Krause! Wot brings ye aaahl th'way oot here aaaahn this daaamp Satardaay?" "Gonna go't'th bawlgame!" enthuses Willie, vaulting onto a stool at the counter. "Doubleheadeh! If it don' rain..." "Yeh," nods Krause. "Ah," nods Ma. "Ye'll be wantin' me pre-game special then? Two egg creams -- aaahn th'hooose?" "Yeh," grin WIllie and Krause in synchronization. "Soooo," continues Ma as she prepares the beverages. "Ye haaavin' a good summar, are ye?" "Yeh," nods Willie, reflexively beginning construction of a tower of straws. "Woikin' hawrd t'ough -- me'n Uncle Siddy, we got awr han's full. Gotta clean out t'berleh, be ready f'winteh, gotta get t'coal in, gotta check awla dampehs. Lotta woik -- but we c'n handle it. Right?" "Yeh," nods Krause. "Are ye excited to go in th' faaaarst grade this faaahl?" queries Ma. "Oi hear that P. S. 226 is a vaaaary good school." "Oh," nods Willie, his face grave, "I t'ink I can handle it." "I'm surrrre ye can," nods Ma. She slides the drinks across the counter, and as her grandson and his mentor begin slurping, she leans back against the rear wall, and is lost in thought....)

Stockholm dispatches said today that Adolf Hitler may deliver a major speech next Thursday to mark the anniversary of the formation of his SA brownshirt organization, presumably to brace revolt-shaken Germany for a final assault against converging Allied armies. It is expected that, if Hitler does speak, he will attempt to whip up a more enthusiastic response to propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels' mobilization campaign intended to draw more of Germany's waning manpower into military and factory service. A report broadcast by the clandestine Radio Atlantic station stated that sixteen-year-old boys from the Hitler Youth in East Prussia and Poland have been "summoned to volunteer" for military service. Some boys who have already reported for such service were sent immediately to the front.

(But who gets custody of the dolls??)

The Eagle Editorialist appproves the latest innovation introduced at the Brooklyn Public Library's main branch at Grand Army Plaza, that of soft music being played over loudspeakers in the Main Reading Room, even though an inquiry by an Eagle reporter finds only lukewarm response among library patrons. "All innovations are accepted slowly," the EE muses, "the reluctance sometimes being in direct proportion to subsequent enthusiasm."

(The boy does have a remarkable appetite for black market horsemeat.)

("Do you mean to TELL me," fumes Mr. Rickey, "that we drew scarcely more than three thousand persons -- while Mr. Rosner's aggregation of semi-professionals drew TEN THOUSAND? Do you MEAN to tell me THAT?" "That's about the size of it, sir," cringes Mr. Parrott. "How do you EXPLAIN this, boy?" roars Mr. Rickey. "TEN THOUSAND PERSONS turned out to see -- Bots Nekola?" "Well, no sir," explains Mr. Parrott, "they turned out to see the -- ah -- Homestead Grays. You know, Josh Gibson, uh, Cool Papa Bell, and, uh, Buck Leonard, Sam Bankhead, Jelly Jackson -- and -- uh -- men like that." "And WHY," thunders Mr. Rickey, "WHY was this game not played at Ebbets Field!" "Uh," shrugs Mr. Parrott, "uh, we were playing there, uh, at the time?" "Were we, Mr. Parrott?" demands Mr. Rickey. "WERE we??")

(First a Christmas movie, now something suitable for Halloween? No need to worry about Thanksgiving though, Hollywood's always got plenty of turkeys.)

(And then, of course, there's body horror...)

Tick tick tick tick tick....

(Never mind that, how was the spaghetti?)

("EVERYBODY ON STAGE FOR THE PIRATE NUMBER!")

(Oh, it's just Trix jacking deer again. WHAT WILL THAT RASCAL DO NEXT?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

You may recall the scandal of a few years back where straight-up Nazi propaganda was being mailed out under Rep. Fish's congressional franking stamp by "a rogue employee."

"Pistol Head?"

Such a slappable face.

I don't think they make Army pants in that size.

"The Secretary of War Regrets..."

Once again -- Harold Gray, ACAB.

"Oh? Already time for 'Inner Sanctum?'"

These are boom times for the proprietors of trackside hotels.

And to think you kids just wanted to be in show business...


Y'know, I bet someone could make a swell musical out of this.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Children learn what they live...

 

[PrivateEye]

"The Secretary of War Regrets..."

Oh please no!

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Yeh," sighs Sally, staring at the ceiling of Dr. Levine's session room. "I seenit inna papeh t'day -- t's trans'p't plane, 'neese guys lawst at sea. One of'm's a T-5, jus' like Joe. I t'oght T-5s was s'posta be safe, right? T'at's what Joe tol' me. He said not t'worry, nobody's gonna be shoot'n at no T-5. But -- I mean heehzis guy heeh probl'y gett'n kilt. T'at coulda been Joe. Who knows?" "Mm," comments Dr. Levine, her pencil flying across her notebook. "Ann'a woist of it is," continues Sally, her fingers wringing at the edge of the couch, "I dunno wheah he is. Right now. I dunno wheah he is. We been married seven yeehs nex' mont', right? An' awlat time, t'eh ain' really even been a minute I didn' know wheh Joe is. He's at woik, he's onna subway awra trolley, maybe he's havin' a egg cream oveh t'Ma's place. He don' b'longta no lawdge, he don' go runnin' out t'bawrs, an' since Solly Pincus wen' inna soivice, he don't have nobody t'run'aroun' wit' anyways. I awrways knew weh he was. An' now I don't." "Doesn't that strike you as unusual though?" interjects Dr. Levine. "That you always knew where he was? Do you think most marriages are like that?" "Ma's wasn'," shrugs Sally. "Befoeh Pa wen' awfta wawr, she neveh knew if he was comin' home at night a'nawt. But Joe's not like t'at. T'at's why I married 'im. I mean, befoeh t'wawr, befoeh Leonoreh was bawrn, ev'ry night he'd come home fr'm woik, an' I'd come home fr'm woik, an' we'd eat dinneh, an' we'd sit'n lissen t't'radio an'nen we'd go t'bed. If it was hot out we'd go sit onna fieh 'scape an' lookit t'moon a'sumpn'. An' on Sattehday night we'd go see a pitcheh awr we'd go t'Roselan' an' do some steppin'. An' on Sunday we'd maybe go see a bawlgame, go t' Prospec' Pawrk, go see Ma, y'know? Make t' roun's. An' -- we was happy, y'know? An'nen awlofasudd'n ev'ryt'ing's diffen't. But even afteh he wen' inna Awrmy, I knew weh he was. An' now I don't. An' I don' like it. What'm I s'posta do, Doc? Huh? I ask ya?" Dr. Levine taps her notebook with the end of her pencil, and forms her thought carefully. "What," she begins, "do you THINK you should do?" "I t'ink," growls Sally, "if y'ain' gonna tell me what I oughta do, I oughta go home." "Let's start over," sighs Dr. Levine, with a glance at her wristwatch...)

American bombers and fighters struck powerful blows for the second time in 24 hours at the main source of Germany's dwindling fuel reserves, dumping an estimated 3000 tons of explosives on the great Leuna synthetic oil refinery at Meurseburg, and other oil targets near Bremen. These raids followed attacks by 1100 RAF heavy bombers last night on Stuttgart and Hamburg.

Seeking recognition from the Soviet Union similar to that given the French Maquis by the United States, additional units of the Polish underground army, estimated at several hundred thousand men, have taken their places alongside the Red Army in battling Nazi forces in Poland. A two-star Polish general who cannot be named said that the Polish partisan units will fight under the Soviet high command's "tempest" plan for large-scale open warfare against the enemy's most vulnerable strategic points.

Instant coffee will no longer be available for civilian use under a new order promulgated by the War Food Administration. War Food Order Number 109 forbids the civilian sale of soluble coffee products as of August 1st, and requires that all current inventories be turned over to the Government for military use. One hundred percent of all future production will be earmarked for military purposes. The order was made necessary, it was explained, by growing demand for solube coffee in field rations, and the full production capacity of the entire industry is scarcely enough to meet that demand.

A seasonal decline in milk output due to a prolonged summer drought has required a War Food Order curtailing ice cream production for the civilian market. "Nature seems to be giving Hitler a hand," sighs the Eagle Editorialist, "in the job of depriving us of luxuries."

("I brought you those rosters you wanted," declares Mr. Parrott, handing his boss a manila folder. "Homestead Grays, Kansas City Monarchs, Newark Eagles," mutters Mr. Rickey, "New York Cubans, Philadelphia Stars, Baltimore Elite Giants..." "Uh, sir," harumphs Mr. Parrott, "I can't help but notice that..." He trails off as Mr. Rickey's eyes, beneath the furrowing brows, lock him in a ferocious stare. "Nothing, sir," shrugs Mr. Parrott. "I didn't notice nothing -- uh -- anything -- uh -- " "That will be all, Mr. Parrott," dismisses Mr. Rickey. "If I require you I shall send for you." "Um," swallows Mr. Parrott, "yes sir...")

(Keep 'em floating, Coasties!)

Mae West is back now from Hollywood for a turn on Broadway in her new show "Catherine the Great," but while you can take the girl out of Brooklyn you can never take Brooklyn out of the girl. Miss West is that Brooklyn girl thru and thru, going back to those days around the turn of the century when she took the stage in amateur shows as a child imitator of such stars of the day as Eddie Foy and Bert Williams. She's never forgotten her roots, though, and even manages to work a mention of her home borough into her play, with a present-day prologue set in a USO recreation room where servicemen are talking of Russia's role in the war. One of the sailors, a Brooklyn boy, tells his comrades about a book he once read about a lusty Russian empress -- which leads smoothly into the historical part of the play.

Preston Sturges bows to no one as a creator of evocative names for his characters. The director-screenwriter who gave us such ineffable creations as J. D. Hackensacker III, Trudy Kockenlocker and Norval Jones, gives us now, in his new picture "Hail The Conquering Hero," Eddie Bracken as the title character, "Woodrow Truesmith."

Do NOT mess around with this kid's balloon!

The problem I always have with funny-animal comics is that you eventually have the humanized animals interacting with human humans and animal animals, and you start wondering what kind of weird evolutionary spiral would cause this...

(They wouldn't last a single set at Roseland.)

(Not only that, the standard test-pattern tone for television is 400 cycles instead of the standard A= 440, which must drive Toscanini crazy while he's waiting for the rassling to come on.)

("Though I walk thru the valley of the shadow of death...")

(Don't forget folks, that's JERRY GEISLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, DEFENDER OF CHAPLIN AND FLYNN. Says right there on the card.)

(Mary's too sharp for you, toots. NOBODY ever returns a cup of sugar.)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

The News doesn't have any funny-animal strips. I wonder if that's about to change?

Ahhhh, Davega. "8-tube Mopar chassis" = left-over Chrysler Corporation car radios orphaned by the end of automotive production, converted for AC use, and wedged into left-over console cabinets. Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.

A large evening, Mr. Hill? And at your age??

I hope you get spoiled horsemeat.

QUAKE BEFORE THE MIGHT OF MOKU! You can tell Gus is really getting into this.

Really? Is the Sahib quivering in the back of a cave or trembling under the kitchen table? And Judy just needs to work out at the gym more.

Well, at least he got a sharp haircut.

Some people walk the earth as if they own it. Others walk the earth as if they don't give a damn WHO owns it.

Maybe Josie can give Judy some lessons...

This is why we have gas rationing, so these guys can clown it up to impress the gals.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also...

Stay classy, News.

 

[Fading Fast]

Is there a movie or book about Australian war brides coming to the US, you ask?

Why yes there is.

There is the very enjoyable 1957 movie "Until They Sail" (comments on the movie here: #31,467 )

Which is based on a short story in this book (comments on the short story here: #9,174 )

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Oi think tharrr bein' taaarible hasty wi' this whisky business," huffs Uncle Frank. "Rooshed prodooction, inferrior ingredients -- whaaar's the craaaaftsmanship? Whaaaar's the careful..." But his monologue on the finer points of distilling is interrupted by the jangling of the telephone. "Aaanser that," directs Ma, as she glugs the contents of a jug of Coca-Cola syrup into the holding tank. "Lieb's," greets Uncle Frank, clasping the receiver to his ear. "A collect caaaahl fr'm who?" Ma looks up, her eyes flaring with curiostity, as Uncle Frank presses his palm to the mouthpiece and silently forms a name -- "Marie Belasco!" Ma's head oscillates violently, as her features crunch into a ferocious scowl. "Ahhh," stammers Uncle Frank into the mouthpiece, "tharr's nooone here boi that name. G'day t'ye!" He forcefully terminates the call, and shrugs at Ma. "Sooooom'thin," she pronounces, her fists clenching, "has gaaaaaaht to be doone...")

A devastating new secret weapon is aiding U. S. Marines in their battle of annihilation against the remaining Japanese forces on the southern tip of Tinian Island, while on Guam U. S. planes operated from the important airfield on Orote Peninsula and supply ships steamed into the completely cleared Apra Harbor naval anchorage. Details of the new weapon were not revealed by military authorities, not even whether it was dropped by plane, fired by warship or delivered by artillery, but correspondent Clinton Green, in a frontline dispatch for the combined Allied press, called the new weapon "truly fearful," and doubted whether anyone could live within a 100 foot radius of its target.

One of the worst reprisal massacres of the Italian campaign was perpetrated on April 11th by Nazis of the Hermann Goering Division at the town of Stla, it was revealed today by files captured from the office of the Fascist chief of police at Arezzo. According to those documents, 108 bodies of civilians were identified, including 50 women, 15 children under the age of 15, and six children under the age of four -- with many additional bodies not yet identified. Among the dead were an 84 year old woman and a four month old baby. The massacre was carried out by the Nazis in reprisal for the shooting by partisans of two Germans. The reports indicate that 1500 soldiers of the Goering Division, aided by Italian Fascists, immediately rounded up the townspeople and shot them. Stia, which remains in German hands, is about 25 miles from Arezzo.

("Das Herrenvolk." *spit.*)

A medically-discharged Brooklyn veteran who served 28 months overseas and his pal, an ex convict working in a war plant, will be arraigned today in Felony Court on assault and robbery charges following a spree of purse-snatching near the northern tip of Prospect Park. Twenty-six year old Louis Ranieri of Park Slope has allegedly confessed to the crime, telling police he had lost his bankroll at Jamaica Racetrack Saturday afternoon, and stole a car in the parking lot, swapping his own license platess for those on the stolen vehicle. He then picked up his pal, 24-year-old Casmir Kazmierak, and decided to do a little purse snatching. About 10pm Saturday night they pulled up in front of 55 Montgomery Place and assaulted 55-year-old Marie Nelson, twisting her arm and stealing her handbag containing $21. A neighbor looked out the window, alerted by Mrs. Nelson's screams, and took down the plate of the fleeing car. The pair then robbed Mrs. Delia Detleff in front of 573 73rd Street, escaping with $10. Police from the Bergen Street station were waiting for the two robbers when they arrived at Ranieri's home. When arrested, Kazmierak denied participating in the robberies. He has been out on parole from Wallkill Prison for two years, where he was serving a sentence for robbery.

(Oh, THOSE "pin up boys." The Mayor can be such a wag.)

(Hinkey Dinkey Parley Voo.)

(WHY ISN'T MUSIAL IN THE ARMY?????????????!!@@@??@?@?@?@!)

(Just a loyal American doing her job.)

(The circus? Wait'll television gets going!)

("Tubby (Bluejaw) McGoon.")

(Sad thing is, show business is really like this.)

(Oink!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Reap the whirlwind.

"GOPaloney!" -- Clare.

It's been nine years. You'd think someone with Burm's resources could have made those files disappear long ago.

Andy Gump, AGENT OF PETRILLO.

The Army needs snipers.

It's easy to get a leave when it's your own army.

Bring on the housing shortage jokes!

Walt never was much for reading maps.

And for a quarter, you keep your nose.

Gould will string this out for a week, you just watch.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Ahhhh, woonce again ye see th' impaaartance oov dealin' ooonly with parfessionals," chuckles Uncle Frank, gesturing at the newspaper before him on the counter. "Gem traadin', noow that's no business farr th' inexperienced." "Never moind that," dismisses Ma, folding the paper closed. "I'll ask ye again -- wot do ye intend on' doin' aboot Marie Belasco?" "As if," shrugs Uncle Frank, thru a sip of two-cents-plain, "thaaar woos anything Oi COULD do. Marie Belasco's three thoosan' moiles away." "Ye don't mean t'tell me," frowns Ma, "that a man of yaaar resoorces doon't know noobody in Los Angeles?" "Oi did know soomone, once," nods Uncle Frank. "Billy O'Laughlin his name was." "Tharrr now," nods Ma. "That's what Oi loike to hear. Get in tooch with Billy O'Laughlin, an'..." "Oi'm a plooomber," shrugs Uncle Frank, "naaaht a spirit medium. Billy O'Laughlin went t'his r'warrd loong ago. He passsed away whoile a guest at a loovely resort caahled San Quentin." "Well," warns Ma, "if you doon't do soomthin', Oi will. Oi'll naaaht have that wooman intarfeerin' with me grandson, even if she IS his moothar." "Who do YOU know in Los Angeles?" challenges Uncle Frank. "Nooobody," acknowledges Ma, before adding pointendly, "Yet.")

The RAF Bomber Command, striving to reduce the effectiveness of the German flying bomb attacks on Southern England, sent Lancaster and Halifax bombers over France last night to strike at a supply depot a few miles southwest of Rheims and another depot and launching platform in the Pas de Calais area. Allied heavy bombers attacked enemy naval bases at Le Havre, base for the German motor torpedo boats which were reported officially to have increased their recent activity. Others smashed the rail centers of La Roche and railway bridges crossing the Loire River at Nantes, Tours, and Le Ponte de Ce.

A House Military Affairs Subcomittee reported today that the Government has gone a long way toward crushing an "unconscionable racket" in which certain engineering companies have rented workers to war plants at rates ranging rom $2.80 to $12 an hour per worker, while the workers themseves were paid from 65 cents to $3.20 an hour, while being forced to pay their moving and living expenses. The subcomittee first uncovered the worker-rental racket in a report noting that the racket has operated "with the tacit approval of the War and Navy Departments."

(KIDS TODAY.)

(The world knew.)

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios has joined the crusade against movie pests, releasing a Pete Smith Specialties short poking fun at seat-changers, peanut-crunchers, and women with vast hats. Students in the motion picture class at Hunter College received a sneak preview of the new short yesterday, and a discussion after the film confirmed that, while Mr. Smith's comic suggestions that patrons go to the theatre equipped with a heavy chain and a pair of scissors were acknowledged to be a bit much, no one likes movie pests.

("In the last war, I was a second lieutenant!")

("They could use any pitcher -- period." Van Lingle Mungo, come home -- all is forgiven!)

Connie Mack celebrated his fiftieth year in baseball last night at a testimonial dinner in Philiadelphia. The 82 year old Athletics manager predicted in his remarks that the postwar era will see a "baseball boom," with bigger crowds, and faster and more skillful players.

(Y'know, ma'am, you can get arrested for this.)

("And not only that, he was full of -- " KICK!!!)

(C'mon, Tubs, when you do an Edward G. Robinson impression you gotta say 'nyeahh, nyeahh...")

("Senor Carveo." I think Mr. Mungo knew him.)

("If you can't run with the BIG HOGS, stay on the porch!")

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Whirlwinds move fast.

Artie Shaw is Tommy Manville with talent.

Squatter's rights.

"That's funny -- I smell spirit gum..."

Don't put HIM in charge, he'll drink up more profits than Shadow.

"FINAL NOTICE?" Oh, that doesn't mean a thing.

"GET OUT OF BED YOU BALD HEADED MALINGERER! DON'T YOU KNOW THERE'S A WAR ON?" "Hm, did you say something Punjab?" "No indeed, Sahib, merely thinking out loud..."

"But what about Eisenhower?"

*glug*

Never mind the doctor, call the dentist.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And also,

Don't ever forget that.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Meanwhile in 2024, a small piece of Sally and Joe's neighborhood that somehow survived well into the 21st Century has sadly passed into history --

https://brooklynreporter.com/2024/0...HIGoHxYE0-47ToEvmw_aem_TaWHP9Fsx2tFrO-CGnpWJQ

This establishment is just a few steps up 18th Avenue from the BMT station on the corner of 63rd Street -- just a very short walk from the Petrauskas apartment. When Joe and Sally and Krause and Alice want to go out for Chinese, this is where they go. Or where they went...

 

[Fading Fast]

Meanwhile in 2024, a small piece of Sally and Joe's neighborhood that somehow survived well into the 21st Century has sadly passed into history --

https://brooklynreporter.com/2024/0...HIGoHxYE0-47ToEvmw_aem_TaWHP9Fsx2tFrO-CGnpWJQ

This establishment is just a few steps up 18th Avenue from the BMT station on the corner of 63rd Street -- just a very short walk from the Petrauskas apartment. When Joe and Sally and Krause and Alice want to go out for Chinese, this is where they go. Or where they went...

Most amazingly, they opened a restaurant - a restaurant! - in 1943 amidst food rationing.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Ya want me t'WHAT?" gapes Hops Gaffney, staring with astonishment at his employer. "Ye haaard me," snaps Ma. "Yarrr goin' on a lit'l trip." "Californieh," exhales the Hopper, "ain't no lit'l trip." "Noneth'less," continues Ma, her voice like a brick wall, "yaaar gooin'." She slides an envelope across the counter. "In thaaar," explains Ma, "ye'll foind a bus ticket. One way. Ye do th' jaaahb I want doon, ye send me a wire givin' me th' infarrrmation I waant, an' Oi'll woire ye th' fare home." "A bus," laments Hops. "A jawb like t'is, I oughta go Pullman." "Tharr's a waarrr on," scowls Ma, "Yarr loocky Oi don't send ye parcel post. Tharr's a name an' an address in th' envelope of a wooman. Oi want ye t'foind oot ever'thin' ye can aboot harr -- what she's doin', who she's waaarkin' with, what her game is." "Annen what?" queries Hops, his fingers trembling. "An' thin NOOTHIN'," commands Ma, her mouth a hard line. "Yaaar naaaht t'have anythin' t'do with harr except foind oot what Oi want t'know. If Oi don't loike what ye find oot -- well, we'll craaahs that bridge when we coom to it." "But Californieh!" protests Hops. "T'ey say it's expensive out'teh..." "Tharr's fifty dollars expense mooney farr ye in th' enveloop," replies Ma. "That'll get ye a room somewharr in' th' neighbarhood, an' pay ye meals an' incidentals f'ra whoile." "But what if it runs out?" whines the Hopper. "Than ye c'n staarve t'death aaahr not," shrugs Ma. "Whatevaar suits ye. Ye get me th' infarmattion Oi want, ye'll be hoom again before ye knoow it. Everythin's in th' enveloop tharr, ev'rything y'need t'do." "But..." attempts Hops. "Boot noothin'," snaps Ma. "G'home now an' pack ye grip. Ye leave at 6 o'clock t'marra marnin'." Ma glares across the counter as her employee accepts his destiny. "Anythin' else ye need t'know?" she demands. "Um -- " stammers Hops, his face flushing, "no ma'am. Six inna mawrnin', I'll be -- um -- t'eh." He touches the brim of his hat and slinks to the door, just as Uncle Frank enters, smiling his usual jovial smile. "G'day t'ye, Hoppar!" he greets. "Yeh," mutters Hops, letting the screen door slam behind him. "Whot's with him?" queries Uncle Frank, as Ma pours his two-cents-plain. "Th' poor lad," sighs Ma. "He waaarks soo hard. What d'ye say we give him a little vacation?")

American forces have launched a major offensive against the starving Japanese 18th Army trapped in Northern New Guinea, Gen. Douglas MacArthur announced today as other Allied troops gained control of ten miles of coastline at Sansabar, on the tip of Dutch New Guinea. Apparently aiming at the annihilation of 46,000 trapped Japanese troops, the Americans crossed the lower Driniumor River below Aitape on Monday and drove eastward thru the jungle. The desperate Japanese Army failed in repeated attempts to break out of the Allied encirclement.

("I mean, I'm just throwing this out there...")

("Hmph," hmphs Uncle Frank. "Oi don't see what ye mean, Nora -- that doon't look noothin' loike Shaughnessy.")

(We had a bank robbery here in town the other day, but I doubt they were anywhere near this organized.)

(Ben Chapman? You mean the Ben Chapman who got run off the Yankees for yelling anti-Semitic slurs into the outfield stands? That Ben Chapman? The Ben Chapman who was a ringleader a few year back on the Cleveland Crybabies? The Ben Chapman who throws the Nazi salute to umprires? That Ben Chapman? Are you insane, Mr. Rickey, or are you desperate? Or are you desperately insane?

("Either way, you're not to leave town until the check clears.")

(At least Willie's the whole horse and not just the -- ah -- like his nephews.)

(I dunno, Janie, I'm here to tell you too much of that stuff goes right to your waist.)

(Have you REALLY thought this thru?)

("I'll just keep his house warm for him...ahhhhhhhhhh....

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Wow, Lois Andrews is 20? Where DOES the time go?

"Of course it isn't possible to give the more truthful answers because your editor would not okay them." Kid, you're not dealing with the Herald Tribune here...

The Brow does love a good swim.

"Hmph! You talk like Poughkeepsie is -- well, Brooklyn!"

Give Burms credit, she was doing this stuff when you were in knickerbockers.

Sixteen-year-old Stanley Kubrick never misses "The Gumps."

Better clear this first with McNutt.

Oh no, not an amnesia story...

Well, you know, cringing in the back of a cave you do tend to breathe in a lot of mold...

And to think he spent all that money on a counterfeit B card.