Judge — July 21, 1917 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

girl with bobbed hair sitting at the next table. She nodded to Banks, and he coldly returned the nod. He did not like her. “She is the embodiment of what Bohemia is not,” he said. ‘She is of a wealthy family, and she decided to live her own life, which she had no business to do. Her father let her come down here to live. She has an allowance, and she boasts that she hasn’t seen any of her oldtime friends for two years. She is a fool, because she is fitted to live as the gods intended. There are many like her. She writes bad poetry. It is her ambition to appear with the Pterodactyl Players, who present comedies rejected by the Odéon and the Keith Circuit. She is a fool.” “What did you say her name is?” I asked. “ Cassandi replied Banks. he adopted it because it fitted her aura. Why are you not drinking your infusion of aniline?” “T like her. She reminds me of someone I used to know,” I said. “Come away from here! Come to the Yellow Wampus.”” At the Yellow Wampus it fell out even a: Banks had said, and he gloried in my enjoyment. “This is the sort of thing you like,” he chortled. “Thank heaven you and your sort are satisfied this, and will never cast your evil blight over the true Bohemia. Drink your coffee, and—look! A girl smoking a cigarette!" Ilooked. It was the same girl. She looked at me in a wistful sort of way, and smiled sadly. I was more than ever reminded of someone I knew. Banks misinterpreted my abstraction. “You are not satisfied?" he rasped. “You must see more? Come to the Purple Cat, where wine, women and song flow till the wee hours.”” “Flow?” I asked curiously, for Banks was not one to mix his verbs. -2 “Flow,” he retorted. “There is no other word to express the manner in which the song comes forth. And the women flow, ortry to. ‘Lissom’ is the adjective which they attempt to live up to.” We went to the Purple Cat And it was as Banks had said. Millicert—What do you think, does it make me look shorter? ‘s Constance—I think it will make others look longer. We had wine, and girls spoke to us without the form an introduction. I danced with some. They were atrocious ‘i a piano played the hit from “Shoot Me I'm Happy,” and the revellers sang. I looked about the room. Standing on a table, leading the singing, was the girl of the Italian restaurant and the Yellow Wampus. Her bobbed hair swung from side to side, and her pink smock showed through the layers of smoke with which the room was filled like the sun coming up through fog. I looked my fill. The words of the chorus died down, and she was helped from her table into the arms of a large man whom I disliked at sight. “That man,” said Banks, interpreting my thoughts, “is the director of the Pterodactyl Players. I think he will marry her eventually, or something like that. Does she still remind you of someone you knew?” “She reminds me,” I replied, ‘‘of Phyllis Devine, the girl I was engaged to. She broke it off because she said I had no soul, and I haven't scen her in two years.” ¢ is Phyllis Devine,” replied Banks, like an j ogre. “She came here—where are you going?” ‘ I paused on my way to the table where Phyllis sat. “I'm going to pay a party-call.” I replied. “And as I may not see you for some time, I shall thank you now for the evening. Bohemia is a wonderful place. I shall expect you at the wedding.” “You are a confounded Philistine,” Banks. “And I hope you'll be happy.” retorted Is He? Bunker—Is Hobbs much of a book-worm? Dunker—Is he? Why, when he gets through devouring the contents of a vegetable catalogue I lent him he will actually look seedy. Judge—It seems to me that you're a good-for- nothing rogue. Have you ever earned a dollar in your life? THE LASS THAT LOVED A SAILOR Prisoner—Yes, yer honor; I voted for yer once.