Judge — November 11, 1916 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

silhouette seemed strangely familiar. He seemed to have been there some time. He was all alone, but was enjoying the picture show immensely. When the end of the five-reel drama came, and the heroine sank into the hero’s arms, this man in front of me breathed a deep sigh of satisfaction and reluctantly put on his hat and went out. I said noth- > g, thinking that perhaps this busine: reas 3 vz man would volunteer an explanation of his reason for leaving his office at an hour when telephone calls were coming thick and fast J and when his own wife had called on him to get a little money for shopping. But no explanation has been forthcoming, nor is one likely to be.” Colonel Beanfugle had risen and put on his hat. With great dignity he turned as he reached the door, “I suppose you think I am in the habit of drifting into moving-picture shows,” he said, “whereas as a matter of fact [ had heard through a lawyer friend that this play in question contained a very novel point in law, with which every member of the bar should familiarize himself. I was attending as a professional man, intent on learning what the dramatist had to offer in the interest of my busi- ness. The love scenes I cared nothing about, but the legal aspects of that moving-picture play no doubt will come of service to me in some future case of my own. I do not venture to hope, however, that this simple and lucid ex- planation will convince you that my ab- sence from my office on that afternoon was at all excusable. I merely make the explanation as a matter of form for you to accept or reject as you wish. If you persist in putting me down among those men who are imperiling our entire fabric of business by devoting a large share of their afternoons to mere pleas- ure, can only say it will not be the only instance of gross misjudgment I have met at home.” Mrs. Beanfugle rushed to the door as the Colonel shut it. “T just want to say,” she called after the departing Colonel, “that this play I witnessed was all about a doctor and did not have a lawyer in it. You must have gone to another play that same afternoon if you saw anything based on the law.” —<Arthur Chapman. My Master Til admit, in certain crowds and places I've known a lot of folks who wore less self-assertive graces But in the presence of One Man I’m most absurdly meek He is the chap who once observed in me a yellow streak One time in my mundane career (can I forget it ever?) I showed a touch of envy when a friend did something clever: The others did not seem to note—he saw, but did not speak Or even smile. But yet I saw he saw my yellow streak! The shame within me rankled deep. I've striven to atone For what he saw and did not chide—it hurt me to the bone! I think I'm cured; yet when he’s near you'll find me strangely meck— He is the one who knows I have—or had?—a yellow streak Strickland Gillilan A BEAR MOVEMENT (IN) ON STOCKS AND BONDS: OR, THE INTERRUPTED THANKSGIVING DINNER cOMmIcoooks mam a