The Front Page Page #4

# Ooh, ooh, don't eat meats #

# Ooh, ooh, cut out sweets #

# Ooh, ooh, you'll get a pain

and ruin your tum-tum #

# Keep away

from bootleg hootch #

# when you're on a spree #

# Take good care of yourself #

# You belong to me! ##

On his return

from the South Pole,

Cdr. Richard E. Byrd

gets a tumultuous welcome

in New York Harbor.

Party boss Joseph Stalin

reviews Russia's military might

marching past Lenin's tomb

in Red Square.

Miss Grant?

Yes?

Can I have a word

with you?

My name is Fishbein,

Otto Fishbein.

Oh, if you're a booking agent,

don't bother.

I am getting out

of show business.

Well, nothing like that.

I'm a probation officer.

Probation officer?

What's this all about?

Well, it's come

to our attention

that you're planning

to marry one Hildebrand Johnson

also known

as Hildy Johnson.

So?

Well, that's okay.

But we understand

you're planning

to move to Philadelphia.

Is there anything

wrong with that?

Plenty.

He can't leave Chicago.

He has to report

to us every week.

Why?

Because

he's on probation.

For what?

You mean

he didn't tell you?

Well, I can

hardly blame him.

What are you

talking about?

Now don't get panicky.

He's not really a criminal,

he's just sick.

Sick?

Well, not all the time.

But every so often

he gets this crazy urge.

Mr. Fishbein,

I'm not a naive young thing.

I've been married before.

Now, just what did

Hildy do?

As long as he was

doing it in dark alleys

and deserted parks, well,

we in the department

have some compassion.

But this last time,

it happened in broad daylight

in the

Chicago Art Institute.

For God's sake,

what happened?

Well, there were

those 16 high-school girls on a tour

and there he was at the top

of the staircase

wearing a raincoat,

and it wasn't even raining.

Is that

some sort of a crime?

You know what he was wearing underneath?

Shoes and socks.

And?

That's it.

We get those exhibitionists

all the time. "Hey, lady, look!"

I-- I don't believe it.

We got a file

on him this thick.

Poor Hildy.

Poor Hildy.

He'd be in jail

right now,

if it weren't for that editor of his,

that Walter something.

Walter Burns?

That's it.

Pulled a lot of strings

with the state's attorney and the judge.

That's what I call

a real friend.

That'll be Hildy.

What can I say

to him?

Save your breath.

He'll just deny

everything, anyway.

If I were you,I'd go back to

Philadelphia and forget all about him.

And not even say goodbye?

Hello?

Hi, baby.

This is your dream lover,

bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

I just thought

I'd check in.

Boy, have I had

a busy afternoon.

Where were you?

At the Art Museum?

Art Museum?

What Art Museum?

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