Judge — January 3, 1920 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

' n| Lwrenuc I Pedes trians By Wart Mason Mlustration b HE men on foot pervade the town, and bore me every day; 1 try my best to run them down, but many get away. I have a large and shining car, of widely famous make; as smooth as wagons ever are, it makes the jealous ache. Its windows are imported glass velvet plush; it plays a melody in gas as on It has a carpet on the floor, with figures my name is blazoned on the door, in letters its seats are my way I rush. bright and bold; red and gold How happy I could be, I wist, how blithesome and how gay, if gents on foot did not insist on getting in the way! In vain my horn sounds warning peals; they come from near and far; [ have to scrape them from the wheels whene’er I park my car. A car like mine costs many bones, and many a greenbacke note; a man feels gaudy when he owns so sumptuous a boat. He thinks his life will be a song, a harmony sublime; he'll chortle as he scoots along, and have a bully time. But he for- gets the men on foot, who throng the public ways; his happiness they will uproot, and darken all his days. They'll go to any old extreme to get beneath his wheels, and, being hurt, they'll sit and scream until his blood congeals. They'll summon wit- nesses right there, to get him in their power, and he was hitting up, they'll swear, some sixty miles an hout Rateu Bartox In vain the victim may exclaim against the pit thus dug: a peeler comes and climbs his frame, and takes him’ to the jug And he is fined a million yen, and damage suits are filed, and he is sentenced to the pen, and driven crazed and wild Pedestrians may violate the laws of road and town, inviting every form of fate, and no one calls them down. They are the most determined dubs that ever were in view; they wind them- selves around my hubs, and on my axles, too. They sf tires and break my springs, while cops exulting stand; 1 happy as three kings if they were only canned The men on foot, with grim disdain, behold the cheap tin boat; they know the man who drives that wain won't likely have a groat. They Iet the rattling flivvers pass, and wait for cars like mine, all glittering with burnished brass, and orna ments t shine. And then they say, “Here comes a guy who seems to have the price; we'll step in front as he drives by, and let him smash us twice.” And when I journey down the street, as happy as can be, the men who travel on their feet cry out, ‘Now! One, two, three!" And then they jump beneath the wheels, and bust a lot of springs, and fill the village with their squeals, and break my heart, by jings. My humble pleasures thus they mar, my flow of joy they stem; and so I think [ll hock my car, and go on foot like them