The Key West Citizen Newspaper, March 3, 1953, Page 6

IME OF THAT POWDER-- JN THE SANDWICH tb We a) FURIOUS, THE LION LEAPS AGAIN. ANOTHER INTERESTED PARTY 6ur [ JusT Can'T cet Sir THERE Forever.” ity Lee Falk and Wilson McCoy | tain ingredients found only in alli- 1'M GOING UNDER--I'VEGOT To REACH LOTHAR“ WITH TELEPATI-BEFORE fOR THE PSEUDO-BLOBS | By CHARLES G. MENDOZA | My nephew, Sid McPhid, is a precocious brat. The sister I should have that is his mother tells me he was weaned at the age of two weeks when he smell- ed turtle eggs that were roasting in the oven. He devoured two doz- en after sprinkling them with old sour. Since that gastroromical feat it may truly be said that he speaks with the voice of the turtle. Sidonius, however, won't give! the turtle its just due. He would rather attribute longevity to cer-| gator eggs. This is a false assump-! tion on his part. I know from the | standpoint of geriatrics that alli-} gator eggs are good only for the} little alligators that they might be- | come. Nevertheless, a little known | usage of alligator eggs is to mix | their yolk with turpentine -- one} yolk to a teaspoonful of turpentine. i This mixture if applied properly ' to bald spots will resurrect dead | hair. However, to get back to the tuftle, a strict, diet of éurtle and} her offspring turtle eggs is guaran- | teed to enhance antiquity. Recent | excavations in the land of the! gti led to the discovery of | ye mummified body of Methuse- | By Lee Falk and Phil Davis} jah. An autopsy of the remains re- | vealted that he met death acci- | dentally. He choked to death when he tried to swallow a boiled turtle egg from which he had for- gotten to remove the shell. The occurrence at Cow Key, my | dear nephew, wasn’t exactly asi you described it, Since a very early age you have shown a re-j markable propensity for confusing fact with fantasy. In the first Place, it wasn’t at Cow Key but at Nudist Colony No 468 in the Florida Keys (as listed in the lat-; est Nudist Directory in the Maga- zine Sunshine and Health) and it wasn’t a male cow but an out- raged male nudist. It seems I urph caught him with his pants down By John Cullen Mi Y and mistook him for a grazing bovine. I tried to lasso him in true Western fashion and was chased all the way back to Little Pine Key for my effrontery. Ye gads, those epidermic lads must subsist on frog legs and fried grasshop- pers the way they can hop around when they’re riled. That poetry you attributed to me, young squirt, read like a]! stanza from Swinburne bit I am not quite prepared to receive cre- dit for it since 1 haven't reached that level of proficiency as yet in the art of versification. My poetry is still in the doggerel stage as the attempt that follews will prove to the satisfaction of all. A young poet known as McPhid a he best should have i For his urge to write rhymes Was so great at all times That~his-pen squirted ink like a squid. And ‘$67 'you young whippersnap- per, the mext time you poke fun at avunculaf rélatives make sure that they haven’t sipped water at the Pierian spring. Love Is No Bed Of Roses, Even For Girl Apes NEW YORK w—Sumaili, 5-year- old female mountain gorilla, was taken courting last week but re-| ceived only a cold reception from the ape in her life. Mambo, 3-year-old lowland male | gorilla, played impossible to get. The gorillas, neither of whom had ever seen another creature of their kind since infancy, were j brought together in a cage at Bronx Park Zoo, A keeper heid Sumaili by a paw as she strained to reach Mambo, who dodged so as to keep the By Paul Robinson | keeper between him and the fe- male. He appeared disconcerted and frightened For 10 minutes Mambo dodged, | and Sumaili strained. Then they were taken back to their own cages. { Officials said the gorillas will be placed together for short periods each day so they can get to know each other. Because many men of Dutch-heid island of Saba Caribbean get jobs in other there are approximately men to every man among Gunfighter's Return by Leslie Ernenwein Chapter Ten UGH JUBAL glanced at Stromberg, revealing in that brief gesture a slavish obedience. The thought came to Rimbaud} that they'd fought the Civil War to free black slaves, yet here was a white man in bondage to his “Speak up,” Stromberg com- manded impatiently. i Hugh had no liking for this and showed it in the grudging way he said, “Well, it was a mistake. “That's not enough,” Rimbaud said. An expectant hush settled on the room; a silence so strict that the ticking of a clock above the | bar was a distinct disturbance. Anger brightened Jubal’s brown eyes; it stained his frown-rutted brow and was a growling under- tone when he muttered, “I’m sorry it happened.” “You should be,” Rimbaud said. “Now tell Limby Smith the same thing.” Jubal’s eyes bugged wide with disbelief. “For just shovin’ him off?” he deman “For knocking him down.” Perspiration glistened against the sorrel: stubble on Hugh’s long|- upper lip and formed pimply beads across his forehead. Inde~ cision gripped him so that he was like a man teetering on the top rail of’a corral fence, and in this momient of suspension Fonso Peal said excitedly, “Smith was drunk and disorderly.” Without shifting his glance from Jubal’s face, Rimbaud said, “You keep out of this, Peal.” Then he asked, “How about it, Jubal? How about it?” “Not by a damn sight!” Jubal shouted, emphasizing his refusal shaking a fist. “I ain’t apolo- gin’ to no drunken bum!” He was like that, with one hand up, when Rimbaud tilted forward and hit him in the face. Jubal’s squalled curse was echoed the meaty impact of another blew that mashed his nostrils. He floundered into Lew Stromberg and was still off balance when Rimbaud caught him with a sledg- ing right to the ribs. Wholly con- fused by the swift savagery of Rimbaud’s attack, Jubal skidded AM @ MALL besa, ene cee wed like a drunken dancer doing an awkward sashay. j Men at the bar moved hastily | aside, making room for him, and ; someone out front yelled gleefully, “Fight! Fight!” . Jubal braced himself against the “| bar. He wiped his bloody nose on an uphunched shoulder and peered at Rimbaud with eyes hate- polished to shining amber. “What you tryin’ to do?” he demanded in a wheezing, outraged voice. But he made no attempt to draw his gun. “Tm teaching you some. proper manners,” Rimbaud said. Downchinned and rashly smil- ing, he moved in with the relent- less stalking glide of a hungry tiger. He had been sleepy and half drunk a few minutes ago; now the red rowels of physical combat roused a sharp clarity in him. And a familiar exuberance. This was how a man felt when he fought with his fists; when he knuckles and muscles instead of bullets. This was the way a man ‘was supposed to fe “Slug him, Hugh!” Shafter urged. “Swing at him!” Jubal swung, and missed, and tried to duck away. But Rimbaud cuffed him back with lancing rights and lefts to the face. When Jubal grabbed him in a desperate attempt to clinch, Rimbaud flung Hg off. scoffing, “Don’t use me for a leaning post.” . Pat Finucane, who had come around the bar to assure himself of an unobstructed view, ex- claimed amusedly, “Ain’t he the droll one now, that Rimbaud!” The mockery seemed to rejuve- nate the battered Roman Four ramrod. Cursing insanely, he swung both fists and targeted Rim- baud with a blacing blow that eeled a strip of skin from Rim- ud’s temple. He knocked Rim- baud back with a solid right to the chest, and when Rimbaud charged him again, Jubal arched his body on the bar's beveled ‘edge and kicked out viciously, trying Jubal loosed a long-drawn yell as he went over, that frantic outers merging with a crash of tumbi whisky glasses and the thudding impact of his body. Rimbaud hurdled the bar, ignor- i Fonso who 7 “You'll wreck my place! Jubal was up on one elbow, shige for his gun, when Rim- baud slugged him. Hugh fell back and gave Rimbaud a blank, un- comprehending look. Then his mouth sagged open sed OS ae tek a im dau Jubal’s vest and dragged him slowly along the narrow runway. . Rounding the bar's end, Rimbaud glanced at the poker table and observed that Limpy Smith was asleep with his head ing on the green felt. Something about thinking Ow it was Smith should so serenely i the commotion he had cat Remotely aware of may faces at the doorway, Rimbaud dragged Jubal out into the soiled sawdust and dropped him face down. Hi wiped ‘blood-smeared knuckles rt his pants and looked at Lew him, and asked, “Any objections?” There was a ruddy flush on Stromberg’s frown-creased face. His black eyes held a metallic shine and a queerly ins tentness. It was as if he weren't quite sure what he was seeing, and must be sure before Fer “Any objections?” asked again. “No,” Stromberg said, his voice oddly mild and devoid of anger. “No objections.” Rimbaud grinned. He a double eagle on the bar to Fonso Peal, “Set up dri the house.” Then he walked out, and The’ sloop, angled’ ne e st ang! Street toward the Alhambra for the groin. But Rimbaud | rou! crouched and caught the boot in both hands and hoisted it high. _Upended so viole: that only his shoulders touched the bar, ip of spel that she would wat tered the hotel and then, b “Good luck, Fiddlefoot. (Te be continued) BILLY IS HAPPY AGAIN—Five-year-old Billy Everetts gets acquainted with his new dog and {t Jooks as if the new dog is already well-acquainted with Billy as the pet gets as close to its new mas- ter as it can. The animal was given to Billy by a neighbor who shot and killed his former pet, and then suffered a change of heart. phia.—(?) Wirephoto, bucket of sorts, this little Turkish girl moves teddies after the family powesions. More Now, everyone seems happy. Billy is at home in Philadel- her donkey ond carrying a pickaxe end « metal 189 homes and gf Sinoded Ankara, Turkey. Another little girt farmeteads were flooded tollow- ing heavy rain and » thew of snow which caused the Cubuk Dern to overflow?) Wirephete,