Judge — November 18, 1911 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

Alienists. by ELLIS 0. JONES. WHEN a peniten reling with an insane asy- 'y is quar- lum over the possession of some rich or otherwise important male- factor, alienists are called in. Up to that point it is easy enough. As soon as the alienists arrive, however, trouble commences, for they invariably disagre Does that prove that we don’t know how to select alienists? A good alienist is a good judge of sanity, but who is a good judge of alienists? Must an alien- ist be sane himself? If so, how can they all be sane when they disagree as vio- lently as the proverbial cats and dogs? Or is the whole matter just another graft on an already unduly complicated court system, and therefore not reduci- ble to logic? If it is reducible to logic, the next logical step is the introduction of super- alienists to pass upon the sanity of the common or garden variety. The Army Mule. HE PUBLIC will rejoice to hear that the attempt to substitute the automobile for the army mule in the de- partment of the commissariat has failed utterly, and the ruthless jiconoclasm of so-called progress has received a jolt that is in strict accord with its deserts. SUMMER AND WINTER. Fixed, immovable, always looking for- ward at least, even if not moving in that direction, never thinking of the past, contemptuous of social preferment as well as of the criticism of the friv- olous, of unswerving integrity, and al- ways willing to stay put, the army mule remains, despite the efforts of the ultra- progressive to eliminate him from the scene. Never hasty in his judgments or impetuous in action, never known to run in the face of the enemy, and forci- ble in his conclusions, of heeling rather than destructive power, we cannot but rejoice in his victory over his enemies, and join with the army laureate who sang his praises in the following im- mortal lines: Here’s to the grand old army mule! A creature void of fears! No hide-bound follower he of ‘‘school,”” No thoughtless and insensate tool; But in our crown a brilliant jool, From hinder-hoofs to ears! No braggart he! No boaster sly! Our strength in time of feed! Whose trumpet call arising high Into the vast cerulean sky, To tell the trooper grub was nigh, No warrior failed to heed! Long may his ears wave o’er the scene! More power to his bray! Deep in the warrior’s heart, I we His memory in brilliant sheen Will rest forever brightly green Till time hath passed away! Broadway, New York City. HY should it be the Great White Way? To whom is it particularly white? To the actor who cannot get a job, it is the Great Blight Way; to the actor who is a headliner, it is the Great Right Way; to the chorus girl who does not get what she wants, it is the Great Slight Wa to the theatrical re- porter, it is the Great Write Way; to the restaurant feeder, it the Great Bite Wa to the electricity people, it is the Great Light Way; to the subway factions, it is the Great Fight Way; to the thousands of visitors from the coun- try, it is the Great Sight Way; to the inebriates, it is the Great Tight Way; to the lowly East and West Sider, it is the Great Height Way; to the denizens of the underworld, it is the Great Night Way; to the joyous with money to spend, it is the Great Bright Way; to the jaded rounder, it is the Great Trite Way, and still to all the world it remains the Great White Way, with nothing white about it but its name. Wiliam J. Lampton Drawback. Knicker—‘Do you like the revolving door?” Bocker—No; you can’t slam it when you are mad.”” comicbooks.com