Sad Sack 1 37 August 1954 Text

7/29/2019 Sad Sack 1 37 August 1954 Text

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My, my! How time does flyby! Here it is August already,and I still haven't received mypromotion. I wonder if I'llever be anything but a privatein the army?How many of you were in

the army, friends? How longdid it take you to get promo-tions? I just can't seem to fig-ure out the answer to myproblem.

Say ! That gives me an idea.Why don't you wfite and tellme about your army experi-ences or, if you weren't inthe army, about an experienceyou may h^ye had helping yourcountry in some. other way.Address all letters to:

Sad Sack, 15th floor1860 BroadwayNew York 23, New York

N0.37

Gfl^RALSPAl ^.VV STORIES^>A FEATURES

...YOUR SEALOF A GOOD COMIC !

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I WAVE A VERy IMPORTANt)> OH, HOWGUEST UPSTAIRS. I (A/ANTvAEXClTIWe/you TO BE ESPEClALLyNICE TO MI^AI


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DADDY IS A SAD SACK"Daddy, could I talk to you ?"'Tm reading my paper," Mr, Johnson told

his little son Bartholomew."Then how about playing some ball withme?" asked Bartholomew.

"I can't talk to you now," said Mr. Johnsonwho wasn't even listening to his little son."You mean you don't want to talk to me,you don't want to play ball with me, youdon't want to do nothing with me," appealedlittle Bartholomew."You said it, son," said Mr, Johnson."Nothing!"And without further ado, Bartholomewpicked up his teddy bear, a ball that had been

stuck in the corner and dashed out of thehouse,

Mrs. Johnson, who had been in the kitchen,had heard it all and came into the living roomto talk to her husband,

"Darling," she said, "why don't you benice to Bartholomew?"Mr, Johnson dropped his paper on the

floor . "Listen, sweetheart," he said, "that sonof ours is a tyrant, a menace, a little monster!And I'm afraid of him. You buy him a waterpistol, he squirts it in your eye! You buy hima mask, he goes around scaring the neighbor-hood!"

"I don't mind it during the week," con-tinued Mr. Johnson, "but Sunday's a day ofrest and I'm going to make the best of if !"

"Listen, sweetheart," said Mrs. Johnson,"I'm sure that if you talk nicely to him, he'llbe like putty in your hands.""Are you kidding?" said Mr. Johnson."Did you ever try it?" asked his wife,"No," answered Mr. Johnson."Bartholomew ! " called Mrs. Johnson, and

it was too late for her husband to say, "Oh,no!"

"Hello, Mommy and Daddy," said Bar-tholomew, who whizzed into the room.

Mr. Johnson looked at his wife, then said,"Hello, you sweet little boy. How's Daddy'sfavorite cherub doing?""Huh ?" said Bartholomew. "Oh, just won-derful. Would you like to play with me.Daddy?""Of course I would," smiled his father.

"You just name the game,"Bartholomew flashed a big smiit

tentment, "Gee, Daddy," he said, "For bt.so nice to me, I'm going to give you thepresent I've been saving for you,"He ran out of the room as Mrs. Johnsotichuckled, "I told you this was the way to-handle him,"Bartholomew was back in a second with a

beautifully wrapped box. "Go ahead andopen it," he told his father.

Mr. Johnson ripped off the paper, fingeredthe nice wooden box that had been covered,then opened it up . .SMASHHH! ' >'

It was a Jack-in-the-box that popped outand into his face!

"Where's that monster!" shouted Mr.Johnson. "Be nice to him, huh? !"

"Gee, I'm sorry," said Bartholomew, "theman gave me the wrong box !"Mr. Johnson felt ashamed for a moment.

Perhaps he had misjudged his son."I wanted the bigger Jack-in-the-box!"

said Bartholomew, and he dashed out of thehouse.

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AFRAID 0F^S-S-5PEAKIN6 0F([WILO ANIMALS in) ANIMAL9. TMERESJTAME FROM PEOPLE|WOODSjjA eSAI? HEADING/ FEEDING '

'TVRIGHT FOR I

fTAME OR NOT, I'M ^,-iiJ!!L,Ap* HE^headin" for th'iwait. butchjheapinstalutimber.'/dom't run-5/ straight\FOR TIM'

.^ttirs^ kjaCEY.' GbACMEW ) AWAY FROM

^ '^/-, '' "^J-^-'/THW-'S THE F1RSTJHA-H^!W HEY BUTCH ! >;;; TIME A BEAR ^HE JUSTttGET SOME MORE^EVER borrow) WANTED TO)PUBBLE BUBBLE.^ED mDUSBLB ^CHEW IT^^^BEFORE YOU *

I COME back!

-V (try some fleer U^" omoi. ou> t'i*""'. "; "' ^. '"!MlBhboihoo* -I'h th. '"I J" oirplor... II looki ''k* ..'i ft, om.>,.g -..tone.. . .it '"'" ""?,,J.'.*J*l.> fl03 tokt. oil und*. m ow (... looM. ciiclji.Mow.ll" Id.l 1.0... . "Oil .1 wh". -k* I"' "k '"'hi*!ii MOJ ! ''"'"' ^'"^ "">''r '";r: 'r,n,^". .. bUi .... ..H- .". ". :j:!ir.v'":;and du.ob^lHy or.d iil> o.d.o., eo.. tti. >' ''02 w,llHi Iu . obl, ilill,n lNrEE0'Nomt ' . .(pltoi* pfinr>AddioM

. _, Zono Stole.. ckotk or Kionoy oidor to lovo oi> CO !>lly

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HARVEY COMicS/Cie'SBIG i>h2,5oo Bicycle contestHOW ABOUT YOU KIDS... AREVOU ENTERING ?

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A AUP.9 ^^^ UP TOMORROWMORNING AND WmJBH STORIESTALL, WHAT WOULD YOU DO?IT HAPPENS TO LITTLE MAX, AND THINSSSURf"SET EXCITING BETTER READ THIS STORYTODAY, SO THAT YOU'LL BE PREPARED IN CASEIT SHOULD HAPPEN TO YOU, TOO.'SAY, KIDS, DROP ME A LINE AND TELL MFHOVV YOU LIKE THIS COMIC NEWS ~PAGE. AFTER YOU'VE READ THESTORIES, I'D LOVE TO KNOWWHICH ONES YOU LIKED BEST.'MY ADDRESS; THE 6IQ "H" KIDI860 BROADWAYNEW YORK 23, N.'


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hmmmmim^wmmvi^f^x Ridewins coasting test in a flying finish!

The stirting line at Derby Downs, site of the famous all-AmerlcanSoap Box Derby. S bicycles, Including a llghtweltht, balloon-tiremodels and the Flying Falcon are lined up for the big coasting test.

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HAND-OPERATED BRAKES-lingor-tip tonlrotfar Instant stepping)

Homefree all alone! The sensational winner, AMF Roadmaster'sFlying Falcon glides to an easy victory, coasting 301 yards, 2 feetbeyond the finish line. The lightweight coasted 287 yards, I fooland the best balloon model, 194 yards, 4 Ineties Conclusive proofthe Flying Falcon outcoasts them all!

Look at these great feature* IGEAR-SHIFT MOAllN IAS*- ny*r known bafera on a boiloon-llr* bikol

BAUOON-TIRE RIDING COMFORT- abeorbs bumps bofer* you fool than I

NIW KmO or LON0-COASTIN TIRKl5%lwMt...t

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"tto ftMf 9l wtrvihing im. hiken


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Jill>


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"William! Yoo hoo! William Wallace!You come right in here!"His mother's voice, clear and definite,echoed in Willy's ears. He knew why shewas. calling. "Sorry, fellows," he muttered.I have to go now.""But you can't go yet!" yelped LarryHackett. "We're right in the middle of ourclub meeting!""Yeah," chimed in Bud Brady, "and wehaven't decided what we're going to doabout Janie White's darn party!""That's right!" nodded Tim and TomWatson. They were twins, and they dideverythmg together. They even talked to-gether."I'm kind of afraid there's no way out.fellows," Willy began."William!" interrupted his mother's voiceagam. "Are you coming.?""I've got to go!" Willy said desperafely.See you all tomorrow at Janie's party ' Can'tbe helped, that's all !" And off he ran, racingacross the field to his house.Mrs. Wallace was waiting for him at thedoor. "You know perfealy well this is yourpractice hour, William!" she told her sonseverely. "Now you march right over to thatpiano and start practicing!""Aw, Mom! Do I have to?" Willy pro-tested, for perhaps the millionth time.Piano playing is for sissies!"For answer, his mother pointed to the big

ADVtRIISEMENI

upright piano in th^ liviftg room, and, sigh-ing, Willy took his; place at the keyboard.How he hated those piano lessons and thepracticing that went with them. That kindof stuff was for girls . . . like the party heand his friends were forced to go to the nextday. He thought about the party as his fin-gers wandered over the piano keys. JanieWhite was in their class at school ... hermother knew their mothers ... the boys hadto go, whether they liked it or not.And sure enough, the next afternoon, theywere all there at the party . . . Willy, Larry,Bud, and the twins ... all uncomfortable,all bored with the giggling chatter of thegirls. Suddenly, Janie's big brother Jim, atall, handsome Marine home on leave, ap-peared. The boys crowded around him, pelt-ing him with questions about the Marines,admiring his stunning uniform and his bulg-ing muscles."Okay, okay!" Jim laughed after a while"No more Marine talk! Let's have somefun!" And with that, he sat down at theWhite's piano and began pounding out atune. "Everybody sing!" he grinned.Willy's mouth fell open. A Marine play-ing the piano! And enjoying it! The wholeparty seemed to come to life. Boys and girlscrowded around the piano, singing all theold favorites at the top of their lungs. Gonewas the boredom, the discomfort ! They wereall having a wonderful time!Silently, Willy blessed his mother andswore a private vow never again to neglecthis practicing. And aloud he said . . . proudly

. . . "Any time you get tired, Jim, I'll takeover! I'maprettygood piano player myself !"XOU SHOT OFF I X^ VOUB MieT-^r rrM-ffc^tPOBAOGE.; HONOR BRK5HI; vgJj^or^Ii.'l^pT;.'^


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I WOULP EAT IN THE BEST PLACES/ I WOULD GO OUT WITH BEAUTIFULWOMEN/

OP COURSE, I WOULP 8E KINO ANP6ENEROU& TO THE POOR/


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Documents

Sad Sack 1 37 August 1954 Text