Judge — December 18, 1915 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

R. HILARY PURL PETOOT, that monument of mentality who is just now contributing to the enlightenment and civil- ization of America by his re- nown as a professor of the very latest dances, arrived at Mo! in Top Inn for the sweet solace of a week-end away from the cabarets, just as the late autumn sun was kissing the peaks good night. Dashing nerv- ously upstairs to his room (very special reserved) he hastily unpacked his large alligator skin satchel, shook the folds from his blue-blue pajamas, and placed his awfly Oh my vanity box on the dresser. Now he trippingly descended the stairs and went forth upon the broad veranda The “sang. “How poetic, superb, entrancing, afterglow was gorgeous. His soul how won-derful, how fascinating, perfect, sublime, and dainty!” said Hilary Purl to a heavy set man with a drooping mustache and plaid vest who was alone on the veranda. smoking a cigar. The man removed his cigar from his mouth: “Hey?” CASA AEE | ARTISTIC RESTRAINT | | By FRED LADD i “Isn’t it won-derful—the death of day, the glory of the slowly purpling Yea-us,” said the stranger. “Hush! Can you not hear th’ night song o’ the birds? How charming!” Hilary sat beside the man. ‘We two in the gloaming, and all else afar,” said Hilary; “what a privilege we must count so sacred an hour as this, when one may gaze upon the evening sky and lift up one’s soul to the Firmament itself!” The stranger stirred uneasily: “And tomorrow, day will dawn—the sun will stream upon the fair land; flowers will blossom: and in the forests soft winds you never,” confidentially inquired Hilary, “have you never wandered in the wood, and found a pellucid stream, and removed your footwear and permitted your pink toes to sink within the limpid water?” “IT got stuck in a swamp strode to the desk, and s What's the penalty fer the plaid ve to the clerk, in this State? “Electrocution.”” “What time does the first train goin’ West leave in the mornin’ “Six twenty.” “Gimme my bill, an’ call me at five forty- five sharp.” The Instalment Christmas JOR Sisyphu:, unlucky cuss, Was doomed to roll for aye \ heavy stone up hill alone Day after weary day; And for each yard gained toilsomely That blamed old stone would roll back three. But, after all, nis task was small Compared with mine, that’s clear. ing yet with deep regret On gifts T bought last year; And now it’s time—which gi art the endless stunt again. Walter G. Doty. me pain— The New Hat Mrs. De Style—Women are an expensive blessing. Mr. De Style ~They are expensive. drooping mustache savagel: his voice was hoarse. Hilary gazed rapturously at the sky: zigzag streaks of saffron and scarlet were fading, fading into the night. He spoke of it to the stranger. . . . At last Hilary rose. “I shall see you in the bright and beau- tiful morning,” he said; ‘‘pos- sibly we may stroll in the fragrant fields together? Good night!” once.” The stranger pulled his | | sod night.” The heavy set stranger with Sa Desk sergeant—Didn't I tell you the last time you were here that I never wanted to see you before me again ? Toodles—Yes, yer honor. he wouldn’t believe me. That's what I told the cop, but comicbooks.com