The Press: Fowl Play

Liquor shortages do not faze Arpad. New Year's Eve he will get tiddledy-boo drunk again. His nephew, Gabe, will have to pick up the pieces, pack Arpad safely home. It happens every year.

Arpad is the last word in newspaper birds. He cavorts in the New York World-Telegram's weather stories, has become one of the big town's richest chuckles. A happy combination of oaf and genius, he is a blithe and silly little rooster, and the stories in which he appears have a cock eyed quality and an underlying mood of ennui. Samples:


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