Judge — October 27, 1917 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

The Country Dance QUEAKY, squeaky, squawky! Hear the fiddler saw, Rhythmical and tripping—“Turkey in the straw!” Squeaky, squeaky, squawky! Hear the organ wheez Swing ‘em on the corners with a good, tight squeeze! “Gents into the center!” Slap your feet around, Stamping to the measure with a healthy pound. Now a little jigging while your ladies trip. Hit your heels together with a clip, clip, clip! “Won't go home till morning ——" Sing it loud and cle Squeaky, squeaky, squawky! “Till daylight does appear! Little faster, fiddler, give us something gay. “All hands round together!” Lively, that’s the way! “ Balance to your partners!” “Balance right and left!” Keep the floor a-shaking, let it feel your heft! Aging man and farmer boy, buxom dame and maid Kicking up a dust-cloud. “All gallopade!” “Girl Tleft behind me.” Run the changes through, Solemn all but cheerful like a job to do. “Birdy in the center!” Make your pedals fly Squeaky, squeaky, squawky! “All young and spry! All the lamps a-jiggling, smell of kerosene; Everybody stepping, corpulent and lean; Sashes floating gaily, swirling skirts a-spin; Blanket-smothered babies sleeping through the din “Money Musk” a-ringing while the moments fleet; Heads and shoulders bobbing, scuff of moving feet Now the music quickens! Cut a pigeon wing! Partners, all, for supper!” Oyster stew, by jing! Walter G. Doty LIGHT music, the greatest civilizer in the world is light 1, can not be EXT t Men who love music and children, it is sa ofevil nature. The same may be said of those who love the sunlight. It exalts almost as much as music. It cleanses, it purities, it is the enemy of bad dreams and the grouch People with devils in them should take the sun light cure. It is no less than marvelous how a sun bath will rinse the mind of demons. Intelligence is most akin to sunlight. It has always been the poetic figure most in use in describing mental evolution When you feel that atavistic tug, sit in the sun! -Benjamin De Casseres. Doing Their Bit Willis—Do you think the Peace movement is gaining ground? Gillis—Yes. My wife and I have instituted one scrapless meal a Any Cuslomer day. Delicatessen Vag cutting off the ears and noses of the NEWS NOTES FROM BERLIN MAN named Pershing, who was, we understand, the leader of a military band, has gotten up a small company of vol- unteers, and will try to land somewhere in France. This America’s contribution. The half hearted attempt at conscription in the United States. has resulted in a total failure, only eighteen men in the whole country having been found fit We understand that an army of nearly one million German- born citizens in the United States have been drilling night and day, and will soon conquer the whole country. President Wil- son is to be replaced by a young patriot named Vierick. About half of the infinitesimal American Navy was sunk last week by our inimitable submarines. The other half will go down in another week. Not that this matters much—it is only an incident Two of our flying machines succeeded in utter! New York night before last. The inhabitants flec which is an outlying dependency. Negotiations with the U. S. Government are already under way, we hear, to collect from that country forty billions in- demnity. American servant girls, we predict, will become popu destroying to Jersey, lar throughout the German empire very soon now HIS ADMIRABLE WAY G 20. W. RIPP is a bachelor, beginning to grizzle at the temples and porch out at the equator. He is indifferent to children and does not care for the good will of their ents. And so, when he meets a baby in its cart, a little lad in rompers or a starchy young lady of two-and-a-half or three, he does not poke him er her in the ribs, or ootsy-kootsy, or make horrible faces and hideous noises, or yell “ Whose boy (or girl) are you?” or demand that a weary infant patticake for him, or talk about toddlers. Consequently, while he is not a favorite with doting parents, the small fry regard Mr. Ripp with the honest respect that he so richly deserves. Tom P. Morgan. Deferred Y ‘. He—Moved out on a farm, /4 b\ ch? Got a silo? / NK She—Not yet. Harold says y that till we get the interest on the mortgage paid we'll have to get along with the borses. If you subscribe to Juver’s Trench Christ- get in. per- sonal touch with one or more of our soldiers ‘over there,” depending upon I couldn't eat them. the amount of your sub- f¢ your eggs to taste eggy? scription. mas you wi comicbooks. com