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

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

Drown by A.B. Wain Fatner Tite Looking Ahead By Watt Mason HE Spring will soon be present; the Spring we love so well, when days are long and pleasant, and in the bosky dell the smoothest flowers are growing, the birds are full of glee, and babbling streams are flowing in rapture to the sea. I take my lyre, ecstatic, to chant a roundelay; then dark thoughts fill my attic, and drive my joy away. For when the birds are preening themselves in grove and glen, the stunt of spring house-cleaning will start in once again. N is clean as blazes, so clean it seems to hurt; in all its winding mazes I see no sign of dirt. It needs no overhauling for twenty-seven years, but when the Spring is calling, my comfort disappears. h, then you'll see me totter beneath big stacks of irs, and carry pails of water up nineteen miles of stairs. You'll see me beating, beating, the dust from silly rugs, and canned provisions eating among the flies and bugs. Oh, at the time appointed the carnival will start; the house will be disjointed and taken all apart. And all the things I’m needing, the treasures in my den, the books I’m fond of reading, I'll never find again. Oh, Spring, you are a winner, but when I think of this, my ecstasy grows thinner, and something spoils my bliss. The Spring will soon be coming, the season of blue skies, with humming birds a-humming, and bobolinks and flies. Ah, then the wintry weather no more will run amuck, and we'll all whoop together, and think we are in luck. In fairy glades and grottoes the grass will show up green, and guys with brand new autos will burn up gasoline. Among the blooming heather we'll pitch our outing tents, and winter and rough weather will look like twenty cents. I'd like to do some singing, a song might make a hit; but mournful thoughts come winging, and chill me where I sit. Oh, when I think of mowing that punk old lawn once more, of digging, raking, hoeing, and every springtime chore, I feel I cannot twitter a madrigal divine; my heart is sad and bitter, my eyes are wet with brine. THe Movixe A Choice of Evils A NEWLY elected Justice of the Peace in Indiana de livered the following charge to a jury the other da} men of the jury—Charging a jury is a new business to me, as this is my first case. You have heard all the evidence in the case as well as myself; you have also heard what the learned counsel have said. If you be- lieve what the counsel for the plaintiff has said, your verdict will be for the plaintiff; but if. on the other hand, you believe what the defendant’s counsel has told you, then you will give a verdict for the defendant. But if you ate like me, and don’t believe what cither of them said, then I'll be d——d if I know what you will do! Con stable, take charge of the jury.”” Mas Picturr The Trouble We folks at home shquld do our work without com- You know, Peace hath her victories the same as war. Gillis—I know, but nobody pins medals on you for washing the dishes, and there's never a brass band out to meet you in the morning after you've walked the floor all night with the baby. Willis plaining. Between Wives “Closing the saloons has brought great changes.” “You bet,” said the other dry town inhabitant. “Now adays a woman doesn’t know where to find her husband.” Might Do There k doesn’t seem to know anything whatever ell, that won't do for silks or dress goods. Put him in the book department.” «by JR. Suave Gvess Wno's Goinc to Get a Srannine? comicbooks.com