The Era -- Day By Day

Sinatra always had the rumors of mob connections swirling around him, but of course, the mob never had its hand in boxing, so that doesn't tell us anything.

And that is Burma to a T.

Forgot the gent with a dozen kids conscripted. I feel for the bloke.

("It's a shame, it is," sighs Uncle Frank, pushing aside his empty glass and belching with satisfaction. "Jimmy an' Danny warrr aaahl riddy t'step up'n do their paaart." "Were they now," scowls Ma. "Oh yes," nods Uncle Frank. "Boot they caaan't help it they both got flaat feet, joost loike their old maaan. It's what ye caaahl heredity." "Ohhhh yes," accedes Ma. "Joost loike it's heredity ye cousin's on th' Flatbush draaft board. Pity ye don't have a coosin' on th' Bensonhurst draaaft board, isn't it." "Now, Nora," argues Uncle Frank, "ye know we been ovarr this a thoosan' toimes. Tharr woosn't a thing Oi could do farr Joseph, an' ye know it. An' I swear t'ye aahn th' bones a' me sacred motharr, me boys are sorrrrrely disappointed they caaan't go thimselves. Besides, they're in a..." "They're in a resaaaarved occupation," finishes Ma, rolling her eyes. "Ploombers are essential t'waar work," insists Uncle Frank. "In particular," snickers Ma, "the koind an' toipe a' ploombin' THEY do." "Thaat remoinds me," bustles Uncle Frank. "We gaaaht a d'livery t'make oop in th' Hoights. I'll not mention his name, but he's a paaarson of some influence. So I'm off then, be a little late for suppar..." Ma watches Uncle Frank jingle out the door with a rueful shake of her head. "Silly old fool," she mutters. "Oh foo," agrees Leonora, looking up from her nickels.)

NInety-nine out of every hundred ships carrying American Lend-Lease supplies to Russia got thru to their destinations safely during 1943, a marked improvement over 1942, when only 88 percent of such ships escaped Nazi U-Boats and bombers stalking the convoy routes to the Soviet Union. Foreign Economic Administrator Leo G. Cowley, in the first Lend-Lease report giving any indication of the amount of Lend-Lease goods being sent by the United States to Russia, said that a total of 8,400,000 tons of supplies valued at $4,243,804,000 had been delivered to the Soviets since they were first included in the Lend-Lease program in October of 1941. Almost 5,400,000 tons of that total were delivered during 1943.


(There was a time, oh, there was a time when this would have been prime movie bait...)

A cabled report from a United Press correspondent in Lisbon stated today that Reichsmarshal Heinrich Himmler has supplanted Reichsmarshal Hermann Goering as number two man in the Nazi heirarchy, following the failure of Goering's efforts to protect Berlin from Allied aerial assaults. Correspondent Ralph Heinzen, just released from fifteen months in a German internment camp, stated that Himmler "has quietly usurpsed" Goering's former position as Hitler's heir apparent. Himmler commands the SS, an elite corps of troops personally sworn to Hitler. Heinzen also noted that the personal prestige of Hitler himself has been "on the wane" in Germany since the Nazis were defeated in the Battle of Stalingrad, a defeat which "everyone in Germany blames on Hitler's 'military intuition.'"


(That's right, Helen, STIR THE POT.)

The Eagle Editorialist congratulates the people of Brooklyn for once again showing their mettle by topping their quota in the current 4th War Loan drive. As of today, he notes, bond sales for the campaign in Brooklyn stand at $270,252.000 -- exeeding the quota by $750,000. And with the campaign continuing thru tomorrow, it is obvious that an even more impressive final total will be achieved.


(It isn't what you say, it's how you say it.)


(He could certainly have put it more diplomatically, but if you look up photographs of Mr. Wagner and Mr. Maranville, you will see that Mr. Holmes does have a point.)


(As you were, Lt. Ickie.)


(After thirty years of marriage, people do tend to nitpick.)


("It's awl set, Rosebud!" declares Alice, as Krause reaches deep into a sooty duct to clear an obstruction. "We'eh volunteerin' at t' canteen oveh t' t' Community Centeh t'eh -- Misteh G is onna committee t'eh an'nee set it awl up. We stawrt t'marreh night right afteh I get home fr'm woik." "Yeh," nods Krause, as he withdraws his hand from the pipe, holding the dessicated remains of a rat by its bony tail. "I wondeh what t'weah?" Alice continues. "I wanna get sump'n like'at Jane Awrden had on inna papeh t'day. You know, fawrm-fitt'n." Krause squints at his wife, grins a "Yeh," and flips the rat into an ash can.)


(Mr. Stamm does love his tiny tiny heads.)


(Eatcha hawrt out, Sinatra.)

And in the Daily News...


I mean, seriously -- the movie even casts itself! Left to right, Leo Gorcey, Gabe Dell, and Huntz Hall!


I have a pile of these tokens, but it never occured to me to tiddly-wink them. SOMETHING TO DO TONIGHT!


A DISHONEST PITCHMAN! Another person unfit to associate with!


Clearly the Gooneyville Gazette has no Page Four.


And the divorce rate ticks up another point.

I hope Burms didn't shoot Judas after all. I hope she drop-kicked him out the back of the truck.


And who knows, after that maybe he'll go on tour with Leo Durocher.


Why does Trisha have photos of Miss Dilly? IS THERE SOMETHING SHE'S NOT TELLING US?


CALLED IT


It's wonderfully endearing that Plushie has a SAVE USED FATS poster hanging over his easy chair.

Oh, and...


"Remember me?"

A pre-scar Jinx.

While Terrence talks himself out of this bollocks the colonel is simply reading the map. No evident real analytical grasp.

My appendix scar doesn't look anything like Jinx's, I am sure.

("I'm tellin' ya Sal," fumes Alice as the train rattles into the Holland Tunnel, "t' NOIVE a' some people." "Didn' woik out so good at t'canteen?" replies Sally, leaning back against the seat with her eyes closed. "No matteh WHEAH YA GO awr WHATCHA DO," Alice continues, "te'z awrways some JOIK gotta roon it. We get oveh t'eh, right? We'eh awl dressed up -- I had on'nat dress I got at Namm's Basemen' las' yeeh, you remembeh, wit' t' big flowehs onneh? An' on me shouldeh, I had a ORCHID. A reg'leh orchid, Sal, t' real t'ing, not one'a t'em phony ones like y'get at Woolwoit's made a' plastic. An' Siddy, well, Siddy was awl dressed up good. You know t'at checkehed spoet coat he's got?" "He didn' weah T'AT did he?" chuckles Sally. "Wit't'at Woil's Faieh tie?" "Ain' nut'n wrong wit't'at coat," retorts Alice. "T'at brown an' white t'eh, it matches t'em fancy shoes he got. An' besides, t'at coat ain' checkehed. It's whatchacawl 'Hound Toot'." He says he seen it innat book t'eh, t'at Esquieh." "Ah," nods Sally. "Yeh, he says he useta read t'at awla time be'fore we gawt married," notes Alice. "Anyways, we wawk inneh, dressed up t'kill, an'nis saileh comes upta me an' wawnts t'dance. Siddy looks t'guy up an' down an' kinda shrugs like t'is heeh, an'nen he goes oveh t'table 'lawng t'wawl 'eh, wheh t'eh givin' out doughnuts. So me'n'is saileh, we stawrt dancin', y'know, jus' a reg'leh fawx trawt, none'a t'at fancy steppin' you'n Joe do, an' as we'eh goin' alawg t'eh, well, t'is saileh's han' goes down me back t'eh, bit by bit, till it's on me -- well, you know what it's awn." "Uh-huh," replies Sally, in a state of semi-sleep. "So I sez t't'guy, I says, 'hey saileh, I mean, any'tin'g f'vict'ry, but if you don' getcha hand off me caboose t'eh, we'eh gonna be breakin' awff t' alliance.' See, I'm tryin' t'be whatchacawl diplomatic. An' nen he kinda stretches up an' whispehs in me eeh, he says 'lissen, baby, I like'm big an' rough, see? How'bout you'n me scram outteh t'is jernt an' -- ' Well, I ain' gonna say what he said, but y'know, him bein' a saileh an' awl, well..." "Ahhhhh," nods Sally, her eyes open. "Well," she inquires. "Whatja say t't'at?" "I done what any lady woulda done," huffs Alice. "I busted 'im inna moosh! T'music stawped, ev'rybody was lookin' aroun', an' Siddy, gawbless 'im, comes oveh wit' a doughnut in 'is han' an' looks down onna floeh at t'is saileh an' y'know what 'e says?" "Yeh?" offers Sally. "T'at's RIGHT!" laughs Alice. "Jeez, it's like you was right t'eh!" "What happen't afteh t'at?" "Aw, t' chaperons t'eh, t' people in charwge, t'ey come oveh an'says 'well, we t'ink you've had enough volunteerin' f't'night,' an' so we wen' oveh t' t' Colony an' took in a movie. Paris Honeymoon wit' Bing Crawsby. It was awrful romantic." "T'at's awl, huh?" chuckles Sally. "Yeh," sighs Alice, "an' we ate doughnuts awl t'ru t'pitcheh. T'at spawrt coat a' Siddy's, it's got t'em big patch pawckets!")

Eight youths, seven of them under the age of sixteen, were rounded up by police between midnight and four this morning in the Times Square area. The youths, all of them boys, were returned to their parents by police, as part of the ongoing drive by the Juvenile Aid Bureau against juvenile delinquency. In the wake of that roundup, Mayor LaGuardia announced today that from now on, any bar or grill in the city where any girl under the age of 16 is found will have its liquor license suspended, and he further warned that he has assigned police details to visit all bars and grills "once or twice a night" to enforce this edict. However, a check with the Police Department by an Eagle reporter found that no such order has actually been received from the Mayor's office. State law prohibits the serving of liquor to any person under the age of 18, but does not bar the presence of minors from licensed establishments. While dance halls are licensed by the Police Department, and therefore would be subject to such an order from the Mayor, bars are licensed by the State Liquor Control Board, and only that agency has authority to revoke or suspend a liquor license. Questioned today on that point, the Mayor declared that he is sure he will receive support in his campaign from the State, "from the Governor on down. Oh, I know we will get that!"

A Soviet State Commission has identified seven German officials as bearing responsibility for atrocities committed against Soviet citizens during the occupation of Kiev, capital of the Ukraine. The Moscow radio, in naming those officials, stated that they led a "systematic search," from the first day German troops entered the city, to wipe out the local population. More than 195,000 men, women, and children are reported to have been tortured to death by German occupation forces, or shot, or gassed in specially-equipped death vans. The report further charges that German occupation forces made a systematic effort to destroy the city itself, blowing up or burning government buildings, churches, schools, libraries, museums, theatres, and railroad stock. More than 200,000 homes were also destroyed by the Nazis.


("Come now, Leonora honey," cajoles Ma, pushing the glass across the counter. "Drink ye milk now. See this little garrl in the paparr here, don'chee want t'be Miss Amarrrica soomday?" "SPPPPPPT!" razzberries Leonora. "Be PRES'DENT." "Well if ye' won't drink ye milk," warns Ma, "y'saaaaartain niver t'be Pres'dent a' noothin' 'cept of little garrls who don' drink tharr milk!" "SPPPPPT!" repeats Leonora." "Suit yeself," sighs Ma, taking the glass away. "Gamma!" interjects Leonora, pointing to the glass. "Egg cream!" Ma blinks. "Ahhhhh," she chuckles, moving the glass to the chocolate syrup pump, "yer ye faaaathar's daughter!")

Two million unmarried men of draft age who hold occupational deferments are now being eyed as the last possibility to reduce the mass conscription of fathers. Almost 900,000 of these men are reported to be under the age of 26. In keeping with an order by the President that no manpower reserve can be overlooked, Maj. Gen. Louis Hershey, director of Selective Service, has ordered all local boards to immediately reconsider all occupational deferrments, especially in the cases of men 26 and under. It is estimated that about 500,000 men 26 and under now occupationally deferred would otherwise be physically suitable for military service. The draft quota thru July 1st of this year stands at 1,200,000 men and unless such men as are now deferred are used, nearly all of them will be fathers.

("Complete it at leisure." Well, everybody needs a hobby.)

Reader Hannah Luckman writes in to offer her thanks for the Metropolitan Opera's weekly radio broadcasts. "In these trying days," she notes, "one can still enjoy these beautiful performances -- and for free!"


("Yeah, well they don't think you're any prize package either.")


(Joe and Sally would agree that something has to be done about the Braves. You will recall their ill-fated trip to Boston four years ago that ended with a swept doubleheader. Such is always the way.)


(A former showgirl of my acquaintance ran a dress shop for a while. Seems to be a common career track.)


(He lost the beard but kept the nose? Strange priorities, sister.)


(Jane must be older than she looks. Nobody's done the "Egyptian Shimmy" since 1931.)


(You guys should talk about "fatheads.")


(Fortunately for Trix, the dog catcher got drafted.)

And in the Daily News...


Sorry Lawrence, you can't get away with that moustache unless you're Paul Whiteman and it's 1925.


Well, she's no Madeline Webb.


Camel's hair coat? Of course a FINE HIT MAN is always well-dressed.


What's wrong with journalism? There aren't enough ten-year-old girls in it!


C'mon, Ging, tell her what you REALLY want.


Sure, that's it. A simple mistake.


And that's why postal workers are a reserved occupation.

"Cookie Pie?" Well, at least she doesn't call him "Rosebud."


"I think you're very silly." Oh yeh? Looked in the mirror lately?


"Goonie?" So much for maintaining good relations with the locals.

And also...


And at Camp Upton, Pvt. Joe "Pop" Petrauskas proudly displays his photo of Sally in her Woolworth's uniform, and winks.

Ms Mafalda Davis is my image of Terrence's girl who kicked Punjab's arse downstairs. What a looker.

("We got a letteh fr'm Solly Pincus yest'day," sighs Sally, glancing over Alice's arm at the prominent photo on the front page of the Eagle. "I guess he dunno yet Joe's been drafted, so I sen' it awn t' Camp Upton wit' t'letteh I wrote. We dunno wheah'r'e is -- somewhe'h oveh'rn It'ly, I guess. Heeza one I was tellin'ya 'bout got wounded in Nawrt' Africa." "Oh yeh," nods Alice. "You mention't'im." "Solly Pincus," marvels Sally. "Of awl people. I don' t'ink you eveh mett'im, didja? T'at's one man neveh took nut'n serious, awrways jokin' aroun', awrways gett'n Joe in trouble oveh sump'n. I t'ink he's probl'y Joe's bes' frien'." "'Cept f' you," observes Alice. "Huh," replies Sally. "I neveh t'ought'v'it t'at way." "Joe did," notes Alice. "Y'could tell." They ride on in silence for some time. "I wondeh how he's doin'?" Sally ponders, breaking the quiet. "T'at letteh he wrote, I mean, he didn't say too much, I mean not really. Y'know, he don' get no leave till he's done wit'cha whatchacawl basic trainin'. T'at means I ain' gonna see 'im till t' -- um -- fifteent'a April." "Got it figyehed right out, huh?" chuckles Alice. "Yeh," nods Sally. "I guess t'at's moeh'ra less, but it, y'know, gives me sump'n t'look fawrwr'd to." "What if we wen' out t'eh?" suggests Alice. "I mean, it ain' but, what, fifty, sixty miles out t' whassat town'neh, Yaphank. T' Lawn Guylan' Rail Road goes right out t'eh." "T'ey don' want nobody doin' no unnecessary trav'lin on no trains," sighs Sally. "Specially out t'eh." "I bet Uncle Frank'd loan ya his truck," suggests Alice. "Dunno how t'drive," dismisses Sally. "I do," notes Alice. "Useta drive t'at ol' truck awla time." "Ah," nods Sally. "Ah.)

The Germans are using a new radio-controlled miniature tank on the Anzio beachhead below Rome, it was revealed today, but Allied forces have so far destroyed 14 of the robot vehicles. The so-called "explosive beetles," each carring half a ton of explosives, are designed to be directed toward the chosen targets and then detonated by remote control. An official Allied announcement, however, stated that the machines are "poor specimens," and that they often fail to move forward even as the wheels are turning. These "beetles," which have a low silhouette with one protruding radio aerial, are believed to be the "secret weapon" Adolf Hitler alluded to in a recent speech.

Hostilities between Russia and Finland may end in an armistice within the next three weeks, and possibly as soon as ten days, it was indicated today by neutral diplomatic sources following confirmation by Soviet officials that negotiations are underway. London sources were even more optimistic, suggesting that Finland may be out of the war "within a few days."

In Louisiana, a jukebox cowboy singer and star of Western movies has piled up a commanding lead in a run-off primary vote to determine the Democratic Party's nominee for Governor. James H. "Jimmie" Davis led his closest rival by more than 27,000 votes with 1639 out of 1864 precincts reporting. Davis's record as a songwriter and actor has been a matter of significant contention in the campaign, with his opponents criticizing the fact that his records are popular on jukeboxes.


("As well they should!" huffs Ma. "Those dance haaahls attract hooligans aaaahn trooblemakers. Th' Mayor in his wisdom aaught t'cloose'm aahl down, joost like he done them baaaarlesque shows!" "Ohhhh, Oi don't know aboot that," chuckles Uncle Frank, dabbing a spot of gravy from his tie with the corner of the tablecloth. "Didn't Sally meet Joseph in sooch an' establishment?" "Thaat was diff'rent," snorts Ma. "Sally was a groooon woman, twenty-three years oold when she met Joseph! And you know full well thaat when she was a garrrl, she never went in nooo places loike that. I saw to that!" "Oi seem," smirks Uncle Frank, "t'remember sooom matter concarrnin' a crooner. Rudy Vallee, Oi think it was?" "She was eighteen yarrs old then!" retorts Ma. "AAAHLmoost a groon woman." "Indeed," nods Uncle Frank. "I remembarr ye bein' vaaary clear aaahn that point to the desk saaaaargeant." "And it waaarn't no dance hall neither!" fumes Ma. "It was a theayter. THAR'S A DIFF'RENCE!" "Oh," nods Uncle Frank, spearing a chunk of lamb chop. "Indeed.")


(The wheels of justice occasionally get stuck in the mud.)

A new twenty-percent excise tax on cosmetics taking effect on April 1st has so far failed to send Brooklyn women stampeding to the store counters, but retailers pointed out today that Brooklyn shopping trends generally follow those of Manhattan by about two weeks. Store owners pointed out that there has been no increase in the price of the goods so taxed since the war began, and the increase because of the new tax is still less than the price increases seen by more expensive goods such as handbags and jewelry.


("I don't have to report the free doughnut, though. Do I?")

Although Canada has temporarily suspended the rationing of meat, officials of the Office of Price Administration warn that there is no chance of the United States following suit. "Canada's meat problem is very different from the one in this country," noted Price Administrator Chester Bowles. Canadian authorities suspended meat rationing effective today in order to clear a temporary meat surplus.


(Leo with his mouth open? Where's the novelty in that?)


("IIIIIII CAAAAN'T ESCAAAAAAPE FROM YOUUUUUUUUU...")


(Just another day in the neighborhood....)


(Anything For The Boys -- up to a point.)


(What's Leopold Stokowski doing here??)


(You know, the tragedy of all this is, Trix could probably get a really good job with Civilian Defense.)

And in the Daily News...


Miss Manners is one of many former Broadway showgirls who sought, but failed to find, greener pastures on the Coast. Should've opened a dress shop, kid.


This might be the most convincing Daily News editorial I've ever seen.


Do you really think, Mr. Davis, that this going to end well?


"Heh," snickers Krause.

Nevertheless, somebody's sleeping on the porch tonight.


The placement of the bannister is a perfect visual metaphor. Mr. King once again shows his mastery of his craft.


"I mean, you know hard it was to get an apple on that ship?"

"Um, OH MIN?"


And that's how Kayo invented the Bird Flap.


Oh, she's gotten out of worse.

Sally and Alice compliment each other in a good but odd way. On paper, those two don't work, but in real life, they somehow manage to.

Frank doesn't win too many rounds, but he won one today.

Burma should pull Terry aside, give the kid the quickie he deserves and, then, hightail it out of there. As you note, this escape is kid stuff for her, that's why she has time for the quickie - it will make her escape a bit more challenging.

Fading Fast said:

Burma should pull Terry aside, give the kid the quickie he deserves and, then, hightail it out of there. As you note, this escape is kid stuff for her, that's why she has time for the quickie - it will make her escape a bit more challenging.

Click to expand...

And here I most certainly am Fast thinking I'm all the bit much here inside Punjab's pub. (Truthfully, meself wondered
Ms. Mafalda Davis speaks fluent French). I know I'm bad but lad you swiped the cake slice right.
Certain as a vicar she's Mafalda. What a looker.

("Awright bud, on ya way," bustles Alice, shoving a little man with a Racing Form in his pocket away from the Schreibstein's phone booth. She steps briskly inside, pulls closed the door, sends a nickel dinging down the chute, and dials a certain BUckminster number. "Whoozis?" she rasps as a voice picks up on the other end. "Jimmy? T'is is Alice Krause. -- What? -- Awright, Dooley, Alice Dooley, whateveh. Lissen, I need a faveh. I need t' use t'truck on Sunday. -- Oh, awl day I guess. Goin' out t' Yaphank. -- Y-A-P-HANK. Out on Lawn Guyland. -- No, an' keep a civil tongue in ya head, I'm a happy married woman now -- I'm goin' out t'eh wit' Sal. -- Yeh, t'at's right. -- No, I ain' got no gas coupons, why would I have gas coupons, do I look like a cho-furr t' you? You got gas coupons t'ough, I know Frank's gotta C cawrd. -- Well, OK, heeh's why ya should. If ya don't, I'm liable t'come oveh t'eh an' step in ya face, how ya like t'at? -- Yeh, good, I knew y'd see it my way. -- No, don't say nut'n t't' old man about it, an' gawdfabbid don' say nut'n t''t ol' lady. T'is is jus' b'tween you'n me, see? -- Well, howzis f'ra faveh? You do t'is f'me, an' in retoin, I DON'T come oveh t'eh an' step in ya face. -- Yeh, t'at's right. Awright. We'll be oveh t'eh Sunday mawrnin', make it nine a'clock shawrp. Yeh. Oh, an' tell Danny I want t'at ten dollehs he owes me. Or I'll step in HIS face nex'. Good. -- Awright t'en. Yeh. G'bye." Alice hangs up the receiver, hears her nickel clink down into the coin box, and emerges from the booth with a beaming smile. "Awright bud," she snickers to the little man with the Racing Form. "Aaaaaawl yez!")

Forces backing Governor Thomas E. Dewey for the Republican presidential nomination are confident that New York State's 92 convention delegates would solidy support him on the first roll call vote at this summer's party convention in Chicago. Dewey has repeatedly stated that he is not a candidate for the nomination, but close friends believe he would accept a draft if the convention calls on him to make the race. So far the Governor has parried all questions from reporters concerning a draft. Dewey supporters have reportedly canvassed the New York delgates, and are said to be "more than pleased with the results."

Acceptance of Soviet peace terms by Finland is expected within the next 24 to 48 hours, according to political quarters in Helsinki. The official Finnish news agency confirmed last night that the Finnish Government has received a six-point armistice plan, and has communicated it to Parliament, while a Stockholm newspaper reported that Adolf Hitler and his advisors discussed the Finnish situation yesterday "at a long, gloomy session." It is also reported that the commander of German troops in Finland is now preparing to evacuate his 100,000 men to Norway in the event of a Finnish-Russian armistice, despite Soviet demands that those troops be interned as a condition of the peace. It is believed that the commander of the forces, Col. General Eduard Dietl, has been ordered not to let himself, under any circumstances, be trapped in Finland.


(At Lieb's Candy Store, Ma glances over at the glistening row of pay phones lining the wall beside the soda counter, and smiles.)


(The must-have accessory for Spring 1944.)

The Eagle Editorialist warns that Republican chances of capturing the White House in 1944 hinge upon the party not allowing its isolationist wing to gain the upper hand. Warning against the "negative attitude" that led the GOP to stress President Roosevelt's "weaknesses and failures" in the 1936 and 1940 campaigns, the EE points out that "experience over the years should have taught them that Mr. Roosevelt as weak politically as evidence would seem to indicate." He further warns that Republicans must resist pressure from the isolationist wing and realistically acknowledge that we are now living "in a period of world history that calls for international cooperation." Should the GOP fail to heed this advice, the EE warns, "all of the party's gains in the last four years will be lost as a penalty for blindness to the needs of the nation and the world."


("Printed copies of this talk may be obtained only until the Senator changes his mind.")

Reader Charles Turkin writes in to demand "better looking trolley cars" for Brooklyn. He notes that some of the present cars rattling along the borough's streets are "too dirty for the transportation of cattle. They remind me of the dog-catcher's wagons we used to have years ago."


("Now all he has to do is make the fans forget about Dolph Camilli." NOT LIKELY FATHEAD!)

(Now, about the carpets...)


(WRETCH! DECEIVER! Ah, Mr. Tuthill has at last regained his stride.)


(Smart decision, Jane -- never trust a cavalryman.)


("Little Lulu?" Marge Buell's lawyers will be in touch.)


(There goes the neighborhood.)

And in the Daily News...


If this is Page Two, I wonder what awaits us on Page Four?


Ah.


"Must be nice to be able to pay the rent!"


OK, Mr. Gould is done fooling around.


Where's Punjab when we need him? RUG HIM.


Hey squarehead -- NO MEANS NO.

Two pieces of advice, kid -- get an agent, and DON'T hire Andy.


Harold always was a good apple-polisher.


All right, look. Burms was wanted for things she did in league with Captain Judas in 1935. Judas is almost certainly dead. There's no one to testify against her. So let's all just let it rest, OK. Oh wait, she just shot the tubby mustache guy? YOU CAN'T STAY OUT OF TROUBLE CAN YOU?


Spotted tie, black shirt with rolled up sleeves, plaid pants, and a derby. THE APEX OF STYLE.

And also...


A million stories.

"You do t'is f'me, an' in retoin, I DON'T come oveh t'eh an' step in ya face."

God luv ya, Alice.

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

"All right, look. Burms was wanted for things she did in league with Captain Judas in 1935. Judas is almost certainly dead. There's no one to testify against her. So let's all just let it rest"

Seriously, hard to believe British justice is going to look back through nine years, the most recent ones being war years, to try to prosecute a murky piracy/robbery case.

The below is from the Clover Press edition of T&TP and it's from 1938 when, even then, Burma was trying to elude British justice with a slight change in appearance. How awesome does she look?