Judge — August 30, 1919 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

Drawn by Part Resnry Rememper Tuat First Dive Slightly Indefinite “Summers!"’ called the © brake- man of-theGeewhizz Flyer, as it approached a station mmers! Summers “IT know it’s some’re,”” peevishly commented Jig Fiddlin, of Sandy Mush, Ark., “but whur?” The New Drinking Song By Wavter Powrrare BRING me boys, a lusty jorum, 2 Filtered from the local main; Let us drink and drown decorum; Let us sing and banish pain; Fill the cup and every sip’ll Bid the cares of being go; Tell us, who can find a tipple To compare with HO? Foreign people squander life on, Spanish grape or British hop. Mountain dew with gassy syphon, Juniper with ginger pop: Watch them, swollen, pale, dishevel Slam the door and see them jump! Better far that they had revelled On the boiled and filtered pump. Yankees full libation From the constant town supply Void of consequent inflation. \chy head and rheumy eye! Keep the pot aboiling, laddie! Let the jolly filter flow; Foreigners can use the caddy Ie shall stick to H,0! Usual Use First Politician — There’s a section down my way that's got a forest, a deep quarry and a swamp. I wonder if there” anything we can use if for? Second Politician—Sure. Just the thing to use as tour while we repair the State Roe’ go.aroun’ an’ test 2.75 beer? 1s My Master By ‘Tnowas Encerow HIS man, with his cold, calm face, wns me. I am forced to do his test bidding. His word has become my law. And yet physically I am stronger than he. Nor have I com- mitted any crime, so that he does not hold me by fear of prison. Yet am I his servant. He bids me come, and I come; he dismisses me with a nod-and I go, Often and often he puts me to the torture, and yet I dare make no open complaint. He speaks, when, knowing my master’s v am silent. Ke deprives me of the right to answer him back And though he is far, far richer than 1, there are months when he will calmly ake all my earnings—as though this ight. How I hate this calm, cold man! How I detest the cruel gleam in his eye. . One day I shall kill him. I know that one day I shall kill him. Often murder is in my heart when he trades upon’ my helplessness. 1 shall certainly slay him, and no jury will send me to the chair Even juries are human, and they will sympathize—for this cold, calm man is my dentist Cruel hat’s unjust.” “What?” “Keeping soldiers guilty of being A.W. O.L. in prison when writers of war songs are at liberty.”