Life — January 18, 1929 — page 21: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

0T7W EEeee _ be ut he all cst co he ng Just one week ago today I stepped out from behind the sheltering Curtain of Privacy, and generously offered myself as a gift to the American People. “All you have to do,” I said, “is to make me a millionaire. Then I will be your servant.” I offered myself cheerfully, firm in my conviction that what this country needs is a brand new type of millionaire one who will squander his fortune in spontaneous escapades of frothy whimsi- cality. All I asked was that a million of you send me a dollar apiece. The sporting way that you are catching the Qilg Spirit is marvelous. In every walk of life, men are running to the post box to send in their donations. I am told that last Friday the New York Stock Ex- change was deserted. Both the Bulls and the Bears forsook all interest in the market to parade hysterically up and down lower Broadway, waving the Qilq campaign banners, and singing the catchy campaign songs. In public parks throughout the land, bright-eyed kindergarten children are lending their support to the project by dancing joyfully about the Qilq Cam- paign Maypoles. And I have been literally smothered in a veritable landslide of con- tributions. The three letters that poured into the office this week were all tre- mendously encouraging. The first received was a special delivery from a long - forgotten college chum: 19 1000,000 American Public Crashes Through Nobly, as Letters Pour In By Qincy Qilg Dear Qin (it read) When I read your name in Lire this morn- ing, it stirred up hosts of tender memories of days at dear old Dartmouth. One of the memories concerns the fact that you still owe me fifteen dollars in poker debts. As my contribution to the Qilq Fund, you may subtract one dollar from the I, O. U., and, damn you, send me the remaining fourteen quick. Yours in Sigma Epsilon Phi, Jun. Although Jim’s contribution must be set down as a “paper profit” and cannot be registered on the thermometer, it cer- tainly does show that the campaign is attracting attention. The second letter was one of even greater promise: Weeping Waters, Neb. Dear Mister Qilq: I rite to let you know that my white Holstein, Buttercup, is now with caff. If these caff be born with two heds or five legs, 1 will sell him to Barnum Bailey, when which happens I will be glad to send you 1 dollar. Mrs. Annie Woodswooks (neé Kelleher). Thrilling as Mrs. Woodswooks letter was, the third note I received was even more so, viz: Office of the Pres. Schneeloch Rosin Co., Inc, (If it isn’t a Schneeloch, it isn’t @ Rosin.) Trademark Qincy Qilq, Life Pub. Co. Dear Sir: A few short years ago, my father died, which action made me the owner of a bankrupt rosin mill in Quaechee, Vt. The factory made rosin for violin strings, and although there were many customers, the income was wretched. Violins are so small, you know, they don’t use much, I realized that our output must be doubled. This I accomplished by sitting down and invent- ing the cello, the strings and bow of which are twice as long as a violin's, and therefore call for twice the quantity of rosin. Business boomed, and a short time later I sat down once more, this time inventing the bull fiddle, which is twice as large again. Overnight I became a multimillionaire! So you can see why I like young men like you who wish to make money on a shoestring. I made mine on a fiddle string. Therefore I am enclosing a check for one million dollars. Your campaign has been successful! (Signed) Button Gwynette Schneeloch, Pres. Now that was pretty white of him. But as much as I appreciated Mr. Schneeloch’s generosity, my sense of honor would not permit me to accept his lump sum million, Last week I promised that one million of you citizens would have the privilege of sending in your dollar, and I am not the man to go back on you now. So I hailed a taxi and drove around to Mr. Schneeloch’s and gave his million back. The Qilg Chest Drive for the first week, therefore, registers a two dollar and sixty- five cent deficit... being the expense in- curred in my taxi ride. So now, to make me a millionaire, you must send me $1,- 000,002.65. In sending in your mite, try to remember to limit your donation to one dollar only. It is an awful nuisance to send you back the rest. comicbooks.com