Judge — September 7, 1918 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

j 2 A Hat By R. H. S. Brooxe cont went out to walk. He wore a straw hat, for the day was sunny and hot. But it was September, and straw hats had been called in. The heat was tropical, yet nobody wore straw hats. Only this one man of all the thousands in the streets dared to do so. He observed that all the other visible members of the human family wore felt or cloth or plush or derby hats. It was lonesome for the straw-hatted man. Still, he plodded on his way without perspiring under his hat like others, while somehow conscious that he was alien. There was not another like him anywhere. ‘The man reflected upon this state of general discomfort, and marveled that things should be as they were. It seemed almost as if some high principle must be the governing one of the majorit) a principle which he had stupidly failed to grasp. It would appear that some important reason must explain why multitudes of men on this seething day chose to go the weather one better and so seethe in harmony with it. Yet the reason did not seem reasonable and the minority was obtuse. Monstrous—that he should stand out and away from his kind! But as he neared his destination he was happily aware that nobody in all his peripatetic career this day—this sweltering day— aad even seen what he wore—even seen that his particular lid was straw. Driven Back to Eden Mrs, Hubb—Don't you like these “ladies’ nights” at the club? Mrs. Clubb—I think they're fine! That’s the night Jack stays home. Seeking Whom They May Devour “These man-eating sharks at the seaside clubs are something fierce.” “But they have nothing on the pool sharks we have at ours.” Monday Morning By Cuartes Haxsox Towse "VE had a breath of Summertime beside the sounding sea; I Both Saturday and Sunday were paradise for me I've loafed about in flannels, I've loitered on the links, And played some rapid tennis and drunk refreshing drinks; I've motored and I've flirted, and I've had a jolly time \nd now it’s mad Manhattan with its dust, and grit, and grime. It’s sad, blue Monday morning, and I think of that last tee But dirty little old New York looks mighty good to me! I love the week-end happiness, with moonlight on the beach, And those immortal worlds above us, just be d our reach. I love the dinners, and the sails beyond the harbor-bar, ‘The dances in the club-house, and speeding in the car. ‘The desultory hours drift by upon the sandy shore, With Someone sitting near you whom you're loving more and more! But now—it's Monday morning! Good-bye, thrice happy time! Why do I love Manhattan so, with all its grit and grime? “If all the years were holidays . . . " Well, maybe that is it! We love a little interval with roses exquisite; We love the dilettante days, the halcyon nights of peace, ve a little touch of grime and grease The lonely lanes are wonderful, and wonderful the waves; But give me news of human things, and contact with the paves. And s0, when Monday morning comes, we welcome fret and fuss. And dirty little old New York looks mighty good to us! German Efficiency descends on the ocean, where it is not needed, to say the least. much suggestion of efficiency het large, growing and valuable trees are destroyed. Rank inefficiency. ll we are assured that God is a German. His Welcome Way considerate man he “What an unusuall. “Yes,” agreed J. ever known.” The Consoler for a long time. comicbooks.com CIENTISTS have figured out that five-sixths of the rainfall in the world The books tell us that the fem: herring lays some two million eggs, a paltry three or four dozen grown fish resulting. Again there seems to be lack of efficiency. Each year lightning strikes forests in different parts of the world and thousands of uller Gloom. “He is the most tactful liar I have 1st Soldier (to wounded comrade)—Both arms wounded, ch? _ Gee, you have a cinch! You won't have to bother saluting any more uppish officers