Judge — November 3, 1917 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

GAINING \WISDOM BY ‘WALT MASON brand; and now I travel with the crowd, behind the wagon with the band. I do whate’er the crowd may do, I share its laughter and its tears, with it each day the rag I chew, and jeer at anything it j My life has far less trouble now than dogged my steps in other days; the lines have vanished from my brow, in peace I go my quiet ways. I used to say, “I'll tell the truth, whate’er may happen or befall; U'll gladly lose a leg or tooth, before I'll crush Truth to the wall.” So, fearlessly I spoke my mind concerning people and events; and often I was kicked behind by | Deer has me endowed with wisdom of a useful sore, because I stood up for the truth. But now I travel wi h the crowd, of Fearless Words I’ve had my fill; and though the mob be bee:le-browed, I train and travel with it still. THE HORRORS OF WAR ‘*THIS infernal war has upset everything!” grumbled the landlord of the Petunia tavern. ‘It has long been our habit when the weather was pleasant to congregate out here in the shade of the hotel and pitch horse shoes, as happy and contented as bugs in rugs. But, now, of course, we are all patriots, and about as soon as a game gets started somebe names one of the pegs ‘Kaiser’ and the other ‘Crown Prince.’ And directly the horse shoes are being thrown with such ferocity that they glance off from the pegs and break windows or fly over the fence and get lost, or something. “The other day a glancing shoe hit Constable Slackputter in the face and broke his false teeth. And we had the blamedest time convincing him that the Germans were fundamentally responsible for the outrage b’cuz they started all the trouble. Dad-burn a war, anyhow —Tom P. Morgan. TYPES AND STEREOTYPES HE man who doesn’t see how the war concerns him. The woman who confessed on the state registration blanks that she is good for nothing. The newly uniformed soldier who thinks that everyone is looking at him. His sweetheart who helps him blush in public. The pro-German who lets it out on England. Honeymoon Sacrifices He—Old Peaches and Cream! She—Harold, I’ve been talking to the milkman—and we can’t afford for you to call me anything but peaches. ou will mean a dollar's worth of hap- * Send in a donation to Juvce’s Trench Fifty cents’ worth of troubl piness for some boy ** over ther Christmas right furious, insulted gents One time our village boys and girls appe: as actors in a play; some held the boards as belted earls, and some as reapers making hay. It was the punkest show, methinks! And I, in- spired by love of Truth, held up to scorn the wit- less ginks who tried to act like Edwin Booth. I said such actors should be pinched, or driven off with last year’s eggs; and I escaped from being lynched because I have the longest legs. But for a week I had to hide, a trembling wretch, distressed and pale; the people longed to see me ride adown the main street on a rail. One time I visited the church, to hear the village pastor preach; I saw the choir girls in their perch, and every damsel was a peach. The pastor was in black arrayed; his text was from the Book of Ruth, a statement, in his talk, he made, I couldn’t reconcile with Truth. So I stood up there in my pew, and showed him where his wires were cross things untrue, your ministry will prove a frost.” One deacon handed me my tile, another took me by the neck; they rushed me swiftly down and piled me in the street, a wr ys and forevermore, in those hot days of restless youth, my form was bruised, my spirit Footsore recruit (after practice “hike’’) get to France we gotta walk all the way to Berlin. ON TO BERLIN )}—What's the idea of all this hikin'? When we Ain't that enough? comicbooks.com