Judge — February 15, 1919 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

Drown by Ress Westovnn akes tof Hicksville erial m. hit v The first the oldest That Affair Have you ever wondered who buys those much be-gilded and be-crimsoned vol vat Love Mfiairs of His assion”” and similar umes about tory,” “Princes of alluring topics? I was with two young things, who led the conversation around to a discussion of certain vi and more or less intimate details in the domestic lives of royalty and other unconventional people. Their re- marks ran the chronological gamut from Cleopatra to George Sand. Their voices were hushed and excited. Thinking to relieve the tension with a ty remark, I put in a query “ Wasn’t that perfectly scandalousabout Sodom and Gomorrah?” I remarked. “Why? Weren't they married, either?” retorted Anna with a quickness at repartee which surprised me. That’s just it—they weren't.” wi The Blessings of War: 6y Walt Mason HEN that great war was going on, I didn’t have to mow the lawn. I stood around with other lads, when I had earned my daily scads, and talked of victories in France, of martial pomp and circurfstance. I used to tell what I would do, if | again were twenty-two, how I would swat the Prussian wight, if | were not too fat to fight. My wife would never say a word concerning labors punk, absurd; she had her Red Cross tales to spin, when neighbor women happened in; she kept no cases then on me, and life was glad and full of glee But when the armistice was framed, my wife said, “Are you not ashamed? Our premises are gone to seed; the place is a disgrace, indeed! Now war is ended, there’s a truce, and you’ve no longer an ¢ cuse, so straighten up the lawn, I beg; make things look neat, or lose a leg. And often, in the toilsome day, while bearing old dead cats away, and hauling tin cans to the dump, and varnishing the cistern pump, I longed for those brave days of yore, when all men talked of bones and gore, and one could talk all over town, and have no housewife call him down. Of course I don’t stand up for war; it is a thing that 1 abhor; but in those days of grief and woe, I didn’t have to shovel snow. The rules were all suspended then, and I could visit other men and argue as to ways and means for canning Wilhelm’s submarines. The snow might fall in flakes and blocks, and cover all the village walks, until we had our drifts to burn, and no one seemed to care a dern. Our thoughts were all of other things, of neighing steeds and tinhorn kings. The women- folk were knitting hose and comforters and things like those. They had no time for trifling facts like flakes that fell in cataracts. But now, if there’s a little storm, | have to leave my shanty warm, and ply a shovel nine feet long, and groan beneath the bitter wrong My wife rears up and cries, “Oh, chee! Our sidewalk is a sight to se Go, get the shovel from the shed, ere some one falls and breaks his head!” And’ as I! clean the snowy ways, I look back to those golden days when chargers pawed and captains brayed and fighters wielded gun and blade; ~~ when married men could talk all night about the large atrocious fight, and have no housewives — say “By James! You'll have to quit your idle games! You'd sit and talk the whole week through, when there are countless chores to do! No Devil Dogs The young miss was indignant as she emerged from the museum. They advertised an exhibit of marine paint- ings,” she stormed, “but they were only pictures of w Drawn by Joseen Davis “Tsn’t it wonderful how a little bit of chiffon will n even the hardest face look soft!”” comicbooks.com