Judge — November 29, 1913 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

I'd Like To Go Back IT? LIKE to go back where the golden-brown corn fields are now being stripped of a bountiful yield; I'd like to go back where the farmer at day- break puts on husking gloves and goes out to the field; I'd like to go back where the frost, ere the morning, paints everything one or two nice coats of white; : I'd like to go back where the lanky old fox- hound pursues the fat possum through- out the long night; I'd like to go back where the yellow pie pumpkins are rapidly changing to nice pumpkin pies; I'd like to go back where the tall, gawky bumpkin is wedg- ing his face full of Russets and Spies. I'd like to go back where the dead leaves are rustling and hickory nuts fall with each passing breez I'd like to go back where the lonesome crow's calling on friends who roost in the old sycamore trees; I'd like to go back where the cane-mill is grinding out juice to make sorghum for hot buckwheat cakes; I'd like to go back where the hunters are shooting the can- vas-back ducks that inhabit the lakes; I'd like to go back just this one time, and then I don’t think IF THEY HAD ONLY KNOWN I would care to go back any more. Grandmother (after half an hour's absolute silence)—1 wasn't asleep. I heard I'd just like to go back to see if some farmer is still sell- ing quarantined eggs at the store.—Howard C. Keglev. On the Way to Reno S SHE got on the train for Reno, she felt a cruel resentment against the world. She knew she was in the right, and she could not see why she should have given in when they quarreled. If it weren't for that De Coursey woman—here Mrs. Dick be- sought the heavens to punish her—she could have forgiven all; but never, never would she as long as Mr. Dick—it was ‘‘Dicky Boy"’ once, she remembered with a sigh—thought she was not as beautiful as the other woman. Of one thing she was certain. She would never go back to him. She was still young, and there are plenty of others. Now she was sure that Mr. Tom— of the Newport Toms—the one with the curly hair- o 0 © ee «© «© As he got on the train for Reno, he felt a cruel resentment against the world. He knew he was in the right, and he could not see why he should have given in when they quarreled. If it weren't for that Tom person—here Mr. Dick besought the heavens to smite him—he could have forgiven all; but never, never as long as Mrs. Dick—it was ‘‘Snooky Ookums”’ once, he every word you said. remembered with a sigh—thought he was not as handsome as the other man. Of one thing he was certain. He would never go back to her. He was still young, and there are plenty of others. Now he was sure that Mrs. De Coursey—of the Back Bay De Courseys—the one with the golden hair—— . . . . . . Mrs. Dick met Mr. Dick as they were being shown to the same section in the Pullman. “Where are you going?” he asked. “To Reno,”’ she replied. “Where is that Tom person?” “‘Where is that De Coursey woman?"’ The porter handed them a telegram. “‘Just been married,”’ it read. ‘‘Congratulate us.’ It was signed ‘‘Tom Tom"’ and ‘Alma De Coursey.”’ Mr. and Mrs. Dick stared at each other in silence. “Snooks,’’ he said finally, ‘‘let’s get off at Niagara Falls!’" —Morris Strunsky. Friendship stands many strains, but it is safer without trial. — Seaton, a a Imégene—1 was out 0’ school two weeks with a bad cold. Larry—Two weeks—that ain't so bad! comicbooks.com