Judge — February 1, 1919 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

See a Sr each thought the other was try- ing to dodge the i “Wel said Harvey ichols is a charming girl. I am very fond of her. But I’ve seen some mighty § fine women in France!” “Sohavel. And in England. But you haven’t answered the question,” Have you?” They laughed together. “I can repeat what you have said. I'm very fond of Miss Nichols. And it’s no laughing matter, John. We must be fair to the — Dnwn by Lave Camroet fair. I guess she was as frank — Rooster—Well, Ide with you as she was with me. If she had been violently in love with either of us she would have turned one of us down.” “Corr That's why she wanted time—until we came back—to decide.” “Tf either of us had ‘gone west’ that would have solved her problem, of course.” But here we are! “On equal terms again.” “And still good friends. By the way, did she write to you?” “I had four letters from her, and wrote her six, [ think.” “So?” Harvey looked a bit suspiciously at Long. “T had four also—equal again.” “And how many did you write to her?” “T don’t remember. That’s honest, old man!” “But we mustn’t work up jealousy over the mails. She didn’t write any love to me, and if she did to you we should be quarreling by this time. Now if she should choose you would you plan for wedding bells—and make me best man?” “Never doubt it. And you?” “Oh, I’m game also.” More than once during the voyage they returned to the subject, always with the best of feeling. As the ship slowly negotiated New York Bay, and they were passing the Statue of Liberty, Harvey indicated the famous figure and remarked: “I suppose one of us will lose his free- dom.” “When shall we make the test, old man?” Long asked as they were getting into respeccive cabs. “We must see her together, of course.”” “Meet me at the Biltmore to- morrow evening at eight,” replied Harvey. “In the meantime one of us should ’phone her, explain, and let her make the date.” “All right. Will you ’phone?” “Why, yes. If you're not afraid to let me!” “Nonsense!” Both spick and span, they met at the hotel as arranged. Har- vey’s expansive smile was almost disconcerting to Long as they shook Drown by BW. Kenner are—here Mammy, dis clock done say two inches “What luc Long asked. “Of course you ’phoned.” “No. Theard some news this morning and tried to get you. She is at St. Augustine, Florida.” “Uh-huh. Too bad! I can’t go down there just now.” “It would be a foolish jour ney.” Harvey actually chuckled. “She's on her honeymoon.” “Married, eh “Aweek ago. Floyd Lansing, aviator—an ace, by the way has flown off with the prize.” Long so forgot himself as to childhood home! laugh aloud—almost boisterous ly. Peopte looked at him. “ Fine!” he cried. “I wonder if one can send a personal cable these day Why? “T've something rather important to communicate to a girl in France.” “Well, the post v Let’s split a bottle! Il serve me; | had a sort of hunch. Casus Belli “Your war souvenirs made a hit with your sweetheart, didn’t they?” “All except the little photo I carried all through the last campaign.” “Why, w: heart the “Well—er—it happened to be the likeness of a little French girl!” ‘n't she proud of having her picture close to your Camouflaging It Sunday School Superintendent—1 overheard you reading the lesson to your class and the words seemed rather unlike the Biblical text. Sunday School Teacher—Yes, Mr. Jones. You see the lesson is about Moses sending men to spy out the land, and as the word spy is in rather bad repute now I told the class that he sent a committee invested with plenipotentiary powers to make a Congressional investigation. Safe! “If 1 should kiss you what would happen?” “I'd call father.” hen [won't do i * But father’s in France.” The Sublime Porte Whine It_has not been stated that the Turks surrendered the harems! Ode to a Creamed Onion As I see thee here before me. Lying silent, white and still, Dread terror steals upon me, My blood is cold and still For, in spite of creamy whiteness And in spite of aspect meek, ‘Thou canst’t not fool me for | know hands ob fo’. What time is dat?” T'll taste thee for a week. comicbooks.com