Judge — June 10, 1916 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

SFfOW. ARE you going to put in your vacation this year?” inquired the New Member of the Mere Duffer. “T haven't de- cided,” replied the Mere Duffer. “I'm hesitating between the White Moun- tains and Platts- burg.” The Scratch Man, who had been leafing over a two- months-old golf magazii pricked up his ears. “Did I hear you say that you were going to Plattsburg?” he asked. “That strikes me as an awfully inane way to put in a Summer vacation. I’m going to make the rounds of the Atlantic courses. They will be in great shape by July.” The Mere Duffer snorted. “You're a fine specimen of man if you won’t put in some of your valuable time get- ting ready for possible war,” he said. “I think every right-minded citizen should take a month of training every year. Then maybe we'd have a respectable army some “Catch me going to one of those training camps,” retorted the Scratch Man. “I read about ’em last year. The papers were full of Plattsburg. Every day you'd read arti- cles about it, embellished with half-tones of Reggie van Donkderdam scratching a mos- quito bite gained in defense of his country and Percival Astorbilt superintending the construction of a cook-tent. All the men I knew who went didn’t get a thing except a lot of sun-blisters and a few new cuss-words. Billy Jackson couldn’t handle a club for weeks, his hands were so blistered. Served him right, I say.” “Tf you had a few more blisters that came from swinging a pick, and a few less that you accumulated in the process of wearing out the chairs in the grill, you’d be a better citizen,” snapped the New Member. “I intend to go to Plattsburg this year, myself.” “Huh!” jecred the Scratch Man. “You'll CLUBHOUSE CONVERSATIONS have to go on the waiting-list and satisfy the committee on admissions that your great-great-grandfather really did come over on the Mayflower instead of the Imperator before you get in.” “My ancestors came over before yours, I'll bet!” said the New Member acrimoni- ously. “T don’t know about that,” replied the Scratch Man, “but it’s a sure thing that it was before the literacy test was introduced.” ‘Shut up, you two,” cried the Mere Duffer, who saw signs of trouble in the air. eriously, don’t you think that we all should have military traii “Well,” conceded the Scratch Man, “I suppose we should—cither that or a stand- ng?” “Why, you poor idiot, if we had a stand- ing army we'd all be in it!” cried the New Member. “You'd be officering a company instead of playing tournaments, and I'd be digging trenches instead of divots. A stand- ing army would take up a heap more time than training-camps. And let me tell you this: if war should be declared, you'd be mighty sorry that you overlooked the possibility of getting ready for it. few society men to get some pub- licity. You'll sing a different tune when you volunteer and find those same men bossing you round. A camp like Platts- burg is a big thing, and it’s going to do a lot of good. You'll be in a heap better shape if you take your vacation there i stead of golfing. It doesn’t ma \y differ- ence to the country if you win the Govern- or’s cup; but it means a heap if you can score nine bull’s-eyes out of ten. And you'll find that work on the range will help your golf. A man who is a dead shot isn’t going to miss any three-foot putts.” “T never thought of that,” said the Scratch Man interestedly. “‘I suppose you're right. After all, we ought to do something for the country. If we didn’t have the coun- try, there wouldn't be any golf links to EVERY SATURDAY AFTERNOON WILLIE RECEIVES HIS WEEKLY ALLOWANCE comicbooks.com