Judge — July 10, 1915 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

UST: ras Seaside Sights Sor Sighing Servitors I business interferes with pleasure, let these richly colored prints bring the seashore to you. Or, if you are one of the “maddening throng,” let them remind you, during the pay days to come of the play days of the “Good Old Summer Time.” THE PUP... “I’m Gonna Stick Around” One of those rare things—a “funny” poster that is really funny. You'll never pass it with- out a chuckle. In full colors, 9x12, double mounted on heavy, white mat, 11x14, ready to frame v....sssessesees Cc “Dry Goods” |. James Montgomery Flagg believes the mo- dern girl doesn’: need her mother to tell her, “‘not to go near the water.’” And you'll agree that the beach is a mighty fine setting for her. In full colors, 9x12, double mounted 2 on heavy white mat, ready to frame Cc 1 SPECIAL LIMITED OFFER | We will send either of the above pic- i tures to you for 25c a copy or both, “I’m Gonna Stick Around” and “Dry Goods,” and a Judge Art Print, Cata- | log for.. Cc : ‘The Catalog contains 62 reproductions tn miniature beasti- fally printed in sepia, on India tint paper. The cost is 10ca | bot you may obtain it free in connection with the above offer. | JUDGE, 225 Fifth Avenue, New York Ballade of Golfing Curses UThis is the end of every man’s desire —Sirinburne,] HE CURSE of rotten driving: when you pray That you may soak the ball upon the nose— Then hook it to the long and uncut hay, Or slice it where the forest flower blows, Or flub it so it scarcely clears your toes, Until your thoughts are murderous and dire, And heart and brain with helpless anger glows: This is the golfer’s ultimate desire! The curse of poor approaching: when no ray Of hope can light the burden of your woes; When all your strokes go skidding far astray, Or seek the spot whereon the sand trap grows, Or leap into the nearest brook which flows, Or fall too short, or burrow in the mire, Or vanish for a rest beneath the rose: This is the golfer’s ultimate desire! The curse of sloppy putting: when you play As though your wrists were made of rub- ber hose; When each putt rims the cup and hops away, Or scurries like a hare before its foes, Or, like a puppy wakened from a doze, Rolls weakly round and soon begins to tire And knows not what it does nor where it goes: This is the golfer’s ultimate desire! oY Ah, liefer would I vegetate with those Who play with dolls or strum upon a lyre Than have my game go stale and decompose: This is the golfer’s ultimate desire! —K. L. Roberts. No Proof She—I believe she's in love with Willy! He—Why? She—I saw her kissing him. He (sapiently)—Pooh! That's no proof. I Played Alone 66JN HOW many strokes," you ask ‘was that second secured?"’ I’m surprised at such from you—you to truthlessness inured! Did you think that I would tell just exactly how things went With no other human eye on my awful fooz- ling bent? “*Piffle!'’ in my harshest tone. Ask me not—I played alone! On my honor, you declare, you would know how many licks I required to cross the stream—whether it * was nine or six. And you ask me, man to man, whether in the sand I struck; Whether with my mashie stroke, getting out, I'd any luck. Peace—the secret is my own. Ask me not—I played alone! Played you never by yourself, with some change for caddie’s palm? Know you not one may forget certain things, without a qualm? Have you never spurned the truth, salving conscience some old way, When you played the eighteen holes ina quarter of a day? Ts your head of solid bone? No? Then hush! I played alone.—s. @. Egg View Notes HERM SPOOR, who assisted Bill Waite, our grocer, in giving his stock an ex. ceedingly careful going over Wednesday, spent most of his time picking inferior articles and his teeth. There is some talk here of having a tele. phone line extended from Pollywog to Egg View. There will be lots more talk, if it is done. —Leslie Van Every, The Worst of It Flubdub—Running into debt must be — most annoying. Borrowell—Not half so annoying as the fact that a fellow is constantly running into his creditors. Tested “Them was nice folks you waited on, Mamie, ain't they?"’ **No, no, dear! Appearances is deceitful, They didn’t have no charge account. Paid cash for everything."’ Some Reflections as to Golf POLITICIAN’S game of golf Must be of errors full, If he attempt to pull it off Relying on his ‘‘pull.’" The baker's game of golf will end In pie, I sadly fear, If on the ‘‘slice’’ he shall depend To keep his record clear. The water-power man, my son, Can't be a golfer true, If he by chance relies upon His *‘dams"’ to carry through. The undertaker, be it said, Hath not the golfer’s soul, Who weeps at foemen ‘lying dead Before the final hole.’’ The doctor should not play the game, Nor spoon nor brassey touch, If any mischance of the same His patients tries too much. The aviator should not try The putting green or fair, For no man has the golfer’s eye Who ‘‘goes up in the air.” The novelist should never play, Nor truly should the bard. Suspicion lurks along the way Where ‘‘romance"’ gilds the ‘‘card." The Irishman upon the links Should really not be seen, If of his flag too much he thinks To tread upon the green. —MeGregor Mactavish McNab, A Possible Solution “How can a man be as stupid as that fellow and live?"’ “Some of the men at the club have & theory that he was raised on a vacuum bottle."’ Solving the Problem A cross-eyed man, in running up, No trouble finds at all— He keeps one eye upon the cup, The other on the ball.