Judge — June 7, 1913 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

“(HERE COMES THE BRIDE!" June Weddings ‘As Scen by the Society Reporter By KATE MASTERSON Y WORD! How tired I get of this job when the June wedding rush sets in! They talk about business de- pression and the rise in the price of dia- monds, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect on the matrimonial microbe. Maybe the men are marrying to economize. I often think I'll resign and go back to my old job editing the Woman's Page. In the first place, it’s more womanly, and, in the second, it’s less work. 1 was dragged into this society whirl. The Omelet decided to run the Woman's Page and the Society Department as one, and I was sent out to get human-interest stories. It really was the foreman of the com- posing-room who mixed things up. He’s a socialist and hates the rich, and it gave him great joy to set up the heading, & “(With the Four Hundred,’’ and fill in the column with recipes for removing warts, corns and red noses, ending up with a musicale. Believe me, I almost fainted ‘one morning when I opened the paper and saw a suicide under the head, ‘‘The Smart Set Leaving Town''! I went right to the managing editor and asked him what he thought of it, with a cut-paper pattern of a kimono on one side of it and a new lobster New- burgh on the other. He smiled in a the best place for it. How those men hang together! Then they stopped the Woman's Page, and the circulation fell off about ten thousand a week. I was put on the human-interest thing. There isn’t any human interest in weddings, take it from me. They're all dress and show and presents and lilies, and no one acts natu- ral. Of course you can write them with one hand in the dark. And you'd think each bride was the only original female of the species that was ever married. After you've been doing weddings in a rush season like this, three or four in the morning and ten or a dozen in the after- noon or evening, you get to think life is a grand, sweet song—all smiles and music and new clothes. Your hats are full of rice and confetti, and you go about in your joy duds and try and look like a ray of sunshine when you get back to the office, There’s something about me—I can’t just say what—but I'm always taken for one of the guests and led up the middle aisle to sit with the relatives. Funny, isn’t it? Last week I sat with an aw- fully nice boy during the breakfast, and I told him all about father’s new flying machine, and how I was off on a yachting trip next week. When I heard later he was central office detective watching the presents, I almost passed away. June brides are the prettiest of all. Bridegrooms? They look alike at all seasons—like head waiters. The best men are always much more attractive, don’t you think? The other day I went down in the country to do one of these spring matches at a place where the serv- ants were all powdered and wore knee breeches and silk stockings. I was feeling awfully luxurious, sitting in a pergola overlooking the Sound, when a florist in his shirt sleeves stepped out of the smilax and called my attention to the neat work he'd done on the chande- liers. I told him I wasn’t interested in the decorations, and he said I'd better get interested in them right off, as he knew our managing editor and would have me fired if I spelt his name wrong again. Fancy! But the worst of it is, writing this wedding slush doesn’t give you any chance. It ruins your style. And it costs such a lot to dress the part! I think I'll write fiction for a while. The Honeymooners It's plain to see they're newly married, As bride and groom the pair you spot; They try so hard to look unharried And make believe that they are not. J. J. O'Connell. Many a ‘‘good fellow’’ is so stingy with his family that he'll stand between his wife and a show window. = <i chilly, sad sort of way and said that was THE BRIDE GOING TO THE ALTAR comicbooks.com