Judge — October 19, 1918 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

se peat ae. 7 ey j i i 1g a. ae [= exquisite shoulder that peeped from the black silk bathing dress. “Now,” pursued Gloria gen- erously, “what would you like for a birthday present?” > Billy was too shy to answer Wey for a long while. Instead, he “2 rested his head against Gloria “a Lune) and sighed contentedly as her - ae arm crept around his thin little neck. Billy admitted at last, that the dream of his life was to Drees ty Laxo C DEL possess a bill case~just like a “Lonk out! They'll tie a can on your tail!” “Gwan—I'm exempt.” man’s! He would save up and keep his money in it! “ver generous, Gloria insisted on Jim Shoggs motor- ing back into the town alone and buying a bill case. Jim, outwardly smiling, did so, and, to impress Gloria, he slipped a new twenty-dollar note into the bill case. Billy was delighted, and passed the rest of the after- noon in being petted by Gloria. Then, as Billy ran off to play, clutching his present in one hot little hand, it was Aunt Penelope who whispered earnestly into Gloria’s pink ear. It was only a few days later and with the old lady’s enthusiastic consent that Gloria’s engagement was kept secret from her public by means of two columns in every evening paper. | But that same night of the beach party, Billy strolled into his favorite saloon. “'Lo, Bill! What's doin’?” queried his friend, the bartender. “Tough luck, I suppose, as usual, with you cir- cus people? And you— the smallest midget per- former there is, and all!” Billy thoughtfully bit off the end of a black cigar. “Sure,” he agreed, “the circus business is on the bum these war days. Nothing doing at all—and me known throughout the profes- sion as ‘Bumptious Bill’ —the greatest little dwarf onthe road! Still, [hada bit of luck, Bo. Been on the beach all day— and Oh, Boy!—talk about a peach! You should have seen her!” He sighed. “Well—cir- cus business or no circus business s my birth- day, so set ’ein up, Joe!” “Say, Bill, how old are you, anyway?” ques- tioned the bartender. Drawn by Jonx Haw» “You're about forty, Winy ain’t yer?” Billy, sitting on a high NG THE War 1n THE Movies ur leading Producing Manager signing a proclamation that hereafter 4 all villains are to be German instead of Spanish. ma'am. stool, from where his chin was just above the level of the bar, tossed a crisp new twenty-dollar bill onto the counter. ‘Oh, I’ll never be seven again,” he chuckled. The Tip By Too Cuexevix ‘THE ambition of plain people is to have enough money to tip the waiter. Time was when an honest man could indulge in that luxury without wrecking his credit or his good name. All that was necessary was to do a little sum in arithmetic, in percentage, and thereit appeared, the tip. Now, not arithmetic, nor percentage, nor even brains seems to serve. The problem is one of higher mathematics. Indeed, it is one of such advanced studies that most of us lack the requisite preliminary education for them. There stands the gentle waiter by our side. He wears a grin as pleasing as an axe, and he watches one as one tries to add up the items, his expression giving one con- fidence in one’s ability to audit quickly and gracefully; at least, it would give one such confidence if one dared to look squarely into the kind and benevolent face of the tiger. It is a moment of stress. One may live through considerable on earth, but one does wish tips came easier. It is cither to forget the hereafter (to-morrow, that is) and part with your breakfast money, or it is to play the réle of the truly rich and depart with the air of a millionaire after dropping enough lucre to satisfy. No wonder that sterling silver has gone up, that courage has gone to France, and that good judgment is nowhere. The tip has disorganized our logic as well as our self-respect, and there is no help in_ sight but poverty. When our money is gone we cannot be robbed. Even so, one would greatly prefer to be gener- ous, and so let pride have its human fling—Yes? In the Year of the Toddles You may lead a woman to the ballroom but you can’t make her two-step Authoritative Mabel—That fish looks like trout. I’m very fond of trout. I wonder if it is trout. Norma—Why don’t you ask the chef? Mabel (to chef, sweetly) — What kind of fish is that? Chef—That is fried fish, comicbooks.com