Judge — March 1, 1919 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

Drawn by SaxvonD 1 First Dummy—What are you so glum about? second Dummy —Look at this thing they’ve put on me! to think that for two years I’ve been wearing a C: uniform. Society. Yet in their new mansion the Smiths w socially isolated as they would have been in a desert They were sitting together one evening in the library. Both were ignorant of the treasures of the room, which had appealed to them solely on account of its general visual effect. Mrs. Smith was bored to the verge of hysteria. Smith never had been bored when he could sit and look at her. “How many clubs do you belong to? “Oh, I don’t know offhand,” he # ANied, half a dozen.” “Then I'd like to know why you stick around here so much!” “T don’t care for clubs. And this is a pleasing place, don’t you think?” “That depends. You are getting on my nerves.” She rose and made a sweeping gesture that had some- thing histrionic in it. ‘What does all this signify as long as you ignore what I want? I married you to get among the swells.” “Society, you mean, of course. You've harped on that constantly. Was that all you married me for?” “What other reason could I have? Look into a mirror, please!” Smith grunted and looked around. There was no mirror. “But you pretended to love me at first.” “Did 12) You said you would do anything for me at first.” “But I can’t get into society myself. And I don’t want to.”” “Tt isn’t necessary for you. It is for me. There are men in your clubs—men in society—men who are afraid of your money power. Try them.” “But I don’t get along with clubmen.” She was still standing, and he looked at her appealing! “Tf you would show a little affection I might try to do as she asked. Perhaps you wish. I could make some sort of beginning, and you are clever and attractive enough to do the rest. Even flattery from him seemed to soften her. She hesitated a moment, and then went over and kissed the baldness that was sufficiently characteristic alone to denote a captain of industry. But she did it with a grimace he could not see, not having eyes placed like those of a giraffe. Expectancy was stimulated. Smith's infatuation made him serious about the matter. He thought deeply over it; and when a man of his calibre thinks deeply with an object, it is like putting a lever under something that can be moved. It was early winter. While Mrs. Smith was amusing herself by driving a specially-built racing car about in a manner that gave her a speaking acquaintance with most metropolitan traffic officers—an acquain- tance which frequently involved Smith to the extent of check-writing for fines—he resolved to send her to a fashionable Florida resort. Here she could attract the attention of persons of consequence to her ambition. She was delighted with the idea, and fitted out for a campaign. With more servants than one woman could keep busy, her racing car, a wonderful limousine and the tools of genteel sports she made her début at Palm Beach. There were other women on the scene, but Mrs. Smith disseminated a radiance all her own. Most of the other women followed a patriotic conservatism in dress, but she seemed a model for new modes. And her variety of beach costumes was amazing. They progressed in daring, although there were suggestions of modesty in flowing cloaks that matched the slighter wear underneath in fabrics and colors. But breezes sometimes make cloaks ultra-revealing. Interesting chaps in khaki were there, most of them having won honors in France at the cost of wounds from which they were convalescing. And there were attractive men in the blue and gold of the Navy. With a majority of these, as with older men still susceptible, Mrs. Smith was the rage. Some of them had admired her in the theatre. Women of conciliatory spirit were forced to cultivate Mrs. Smith that they might enjoy some measure of masculine attention. One day on the beach Mrs. Smith posed for a pho- tographer of smart manners who said he represented a well-known society magazine. A month later, after she had returned to New York, elated over her Florida experience, Smith came home with a copy of the maga- zine, a little in doubt about this paragraph, illustrated by the picture taken on the beach: “At Palm Beach, during the season just closed, one of the most striking figures—as the picture herewith will testify—was Mrs. John Smith, wile of perhaps the richest man of that numerous tribe in the world. Mrs. Smith, once on the stage, it is remembered, never wore a costume as a figurante,as frank as this, although she affpeared in various productions the chief end of which was feminine revelation.” An Example “Riches do not bring contentment,” solemnly said good Parson Bagster. “Dat’s so, Pahson!” replied Brother Bogus. “ Dat’s pint- edly so. [done had ten dollahs once, all at one time, and it mighty nigh druv me crazy tryin’ to spend it widout payin’ muh debts.” comicbooks.com