Judge — January 5, 1918 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

Now, more than ever, there is need for what the English call “the cheero spirit.” Need for keeping a stiff upper lip. Need for hiding a long face, for a full measure of pluck, and for great good humor. © Vanity Pair. Vanity Fair deals with the unusual aspects of the war; with its strange and curious phases, its brilliant flashes of genius, its indomitable art created between shell and shell, the music that rises from its trenches, the unquenchable humor of the men out in the mud, the outstanding figures of soldiers and statesmen at home. ‘YANITY FAIR, of course, publishes serious arti- cles on serious phases of the war. It also treats as they deserve those incidents and accidents of war-time life which call for humorous appreciation or caustic comment. Punch has never jested about Gallipoli — but it has ridiculed notoriety seek- ers, scorched slackers with satire, and made sympathetic fun of Tommy’s minor tribulations. So, also, does Vanity Fair. FrRoM the beginning, England has made it an n= al point of honour to see the cheerful side of the war, to the complete mystification of the apos- tles of kultur and hymnsters of hate. Punch’s han- dling of the war is famous. Captain Bairnsfather’s cartoons ha’ made The Bystander a household word in the British Empire. They have been read with delight in the trenches—and with horror in Berlin! Get the Cheero Spirit: Vanity Fair covers the war. But it also publishes news of everything entertaining and amusing in c only should you have on your library table those publicati which treat only the most serious aspects of the war in the most serious way. But with them, you should also have F which echoes the songs of th and does its bit to ma P the cheero spirit here at home. 9 Issues of Vanity Fair for $2 ten, if you mail the coupon now I you do not know Vanity Fair, or would like to know it better, you may have the next nine issues for $2—and even ten, if you mail the coupon now. You think nothing—in your poor deluded way—of ding $2 for a single theatre ticket, or two faded gardenias. Yet for that very $2 you may have ten months of Vanity Fair, and with it more entertain- ment than you would get from a winter of problem) plays, or a five-foot shelf of novels. Attention! Eyes right! Salute the coupon! Tear it off, fill it out, and let Vanity Fair keep you —for ten months—in step with the times. JUDGE | Celluloid Sonnets | VIVIAN MARTIN OMETIMES in January comes a day When winter yields her sceptre for a space And springtime seems to peep with smiling face A moment through the pall of drab and gray. How welcome then the warm, caressing ray That brightens up the world with April’s grace And sends our fancies fleeting to retrace The day-dreams cf some springtime far away! So does the sunlight of your presence beam Through clouds of dullness and monotony, As welcome as the vagrant rays that seem To banish winter with their witchery, Until some olden, half-forgotten dream Awakes again to life and verdancy! —W. Kee Maxwell. CONTEMPORARY NOTIONS LTIMATELY, it is possible, there will be beefless days in the burlesque houses. And it might be done on other than patriotic grounds at that. In the Spanish war, girls begged brass buttons of their soldier friends. The wise girl in this bearing in mind the high cost of shoes, irres bly begs a pair of leather puttees. While imagination is capable of wondrous flights, it throws its cards on the table when asked to picture Lincoln in the act of consulting a wrist-watch. Did it ever occur to you, considering his variety of snappy arm motions, what a corking traffic cop John Philip Sousa would have made? Now that patriotic self-denial is in order, the girl across the aisle might inaugurate about six chewinggumless days a week.—A. N. Folwell. Pertecti Fires a2