Judge — August 8, 1914 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

SPELLBINDERS by Walt Maron Ovur BASEBALL team’s disbanded now—I state the fact with tears; some of the players push the plow, and some are auctioneers, We hoped to have a winning team when or- ganized last May; but that ambition was a dream-sthe prospect went astray. The boys in practice showed up fine, and we were full of hope; that we would beat the Cheeseville nine seemed certain, by the dope. But when ’twas time to play—ah, well, they would not do at all! They tried to bind us with a spell instead of playing ball. We murmured to ourselves, “Oh, rats! The boys have many flaws! If they could only wield their bats as they can wield their jaws!'’ The captain was Demosthenes, who talked enough for two and tired the bleachers, while the breeze athwart his whiskers blew. The pitcher ragged the weary umps, the umpire ragged them all, until we murmured, ‘Do the chumps believe they’re playing ball?’ With bottles drained of soda pop we slugged them as they played, and still their loud barbaric yawp into the grandstand strayed. When Jenkins was put out at first, so many things he said that people cried, ‘‘Great Wienerwurst! Go, go and soak your head!'’ When Buggins muffed an easy fly, which gave us all a pain, he tried to catch the grandstand’s eye, in order to explain. We thought our boys would win the flag, but now that hope is reefed; they queered us when they disbanded yesterday—I note the fact with tears; and some are busy pitching hay, and some are auctioneers. T hope they'll profit when they've thunk this dismal matter o'er, and realize that talk is bunk, that lungfests are a bore. There is a hoodoo on baseball, as all sports know full well, and it’s because the players all would bind us with a spell. If there is anything lacks worth, it is the talksmith’s breath; the grandest game on all the earth may well be talked to death, The thoughtful man is full of woe, a tear his eye bedims, for everywhere that he may go, he finds the Windy Jims, They take the joy from all our games, they hand us Dead Sea fruit, and they are driving men and dames to courses dissolute. They bore us in the busy marts, they bore us in our homes, they rend and break our jaded hearts, and dislocate our domes; in every neighborhood they are, in churches, streets and parks, all keen to throw their jaws ajar and make a few remarks. Let Congress and the Hall of Fame admire such freaks as those, but let us save our grand old game from Windy Jims and Joes! A Forcible Demonstration A BLASTING POWDER salesman, approaching a quarry, asked the first man he met where he could find the boss, “i'm ut,’’ sententiously replied a disreputable-looking in- dividual in earthy overalls. “‘Oh, I want the owner of the quarry,”’ replied the dapper little salesman, in some disgust. ‘‘I’ve a new blasting powder I want to show him.”’ The man addressed raised his voice in a loud call. “Hey, Kelly, Kelly!" he roared. A head appeared above the ground, ‘‘Hey, Kelly, you're foired!"’ The man climbed painfully out of the pit, walked over to his coat and lunch pail, picked them up, and started down the road without a word. “Hold on, there!’’ said the salesman, in some amazement, “T guess you are the man I want to see, after all!"’ The other man cupped his hands around his mouth and loudly hailed the retreating figure. “Hey, Kelly!” Kelly stopped and turned round in his tracks. “You're hoired!’’ yelled the boss. ‘‘Git back on the job!"’ DeWitt B. Lucas. Outstripping Crawford—Women want to wear things just because the other women are wearing them. Crabshaw—That may be so, but my wife seems to be chewed the rag and pawed and talked and beefed The team trying to get along with just a little less. DID YOU EVER NOTICE? The less room there is in a car the more people there are in it. comicbooks.com