Judge — July 12, 1919 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

Drown by Henwas Patwen a President Screicner, Srer, Peansroxn Maxwetr, Editor J. A. Watpros Sone ano Erriciency BOUT this time of year some of us who are bedeviled with a too vivid imagination, ac- celerated, perhaps, by the hot weather, throw in the high gear on fancy and mentally loop the loop toward the impossible. Unlike the kaiser’s daily occupation this kind of soaring is pro- ductive of something, even of an occasional foolish idea; it nets one no material profit, but neither does the amputation of a helpless log. ‘These cerebral excursions are cheap, too, and can be indulged in without remov- ing one’s slippered feet from the window-ledge or stand- ing in line to buy a ticket for Elysium. To be off like a bird on the wing is great stuff—when there is nothing else to do. And speaking of birds, what immeasurable advan- tages they have over us plodding, one-track mortals! Caruso with a mere mouthful of golden notes can out- sing any number of robins, but he can never hope to equal much less beat the least songful robin at his own game; Caruso cannot fly and sing at the same time. We doubt if he can even drive a tin Lizzie and warble his “Vesti la giubba” with any degree of expression. It is a humiliating fact that men and women are unable to perform any two perfectly simple tasks in the same moment; most of us cannot even eat and think syn- chronously. if Ty could sing Mandalay” as he bunts a three-bagger, how greatly our interest in the national game vould be increased. If Presi- dent Wilson, as he signed the peace treaty with a flourish, have timed his pen strokes to the metrical beats of that plaintive ballad, “1 don’t know where I’m going, but I'm on my way,” how much more memorable the historic event. And if those glowing symbols of American culture, Jess Wil- lard and Jack Dempsey, could have been trained to Cobb could Drawn by Manni, DeMa Hubby They found someth Wife—What is i “Oh, one of the Alloys.” Lit I sce they're not using German silver any more e better EDITORIALS ox. dn Man Gronxt E. Hasue Lawrow Mackatt aver, Treasurer yodel as they battered each other's pachydermis the sweet strains of “Abide With Me,” how greatly they would have added tc the pastoral charm of “the big mill” at Toledo. Yes, life is too single-minded as we live it. Cold business could be nicely warmed up if board meetings were opened with a hymn and closed with a bright vocal bit from the latest musical comedy hit; every trade transaction would be enhanced if blithely caroled. In buying a pair of socks or some linoleum for the kitchen floor all the sordidness of the transaction would be eliminated if both customer and salesman could be per- suaded to sing their words instead of dully enunciating them A Lone-Livep Pessimist Certainly the birds have it all over us LWAYS there have been persons who threw away A sympathy upon their fellows without knowing it. Before the day of newspapers they cried out in warning from the housetops. Since newspapers ar- rived they have written letters to editors on subjects in which they were interested. One of these persons has long been familiar as “Pro Bono Publico.” He is perennial and irrepressible. Age does not slither him nor custom whale his infinite satiety. Old Pro Bono is again active, this time in Newfound- land. While the world dreams of wonderful possi- bilities in aerial transporta tion P. B. looks upon all fly- ing machines from jan angle purely local. “1 wish to voice a pro- test,” he writes at St. John’s, “against airplanes being per- mitted to fly over this city, frightening our poultry and thus interfering with our supply of eggs, so important during the present shortage of food. This nuisance is just beginning, and now is the time to stop it.” Can you beat it? comicbooks.com