Judge — June 12, 1920 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

I By Benjamin as ILL you make me your wife in spite of the fact that I have just lied like a thief?” summer garden or a roof t Quaker Hill completely His rest and his purple tic It was in belvedere He stood over her ats quivered with heart-i demobilized ntly flapped against her créme-de-menthe dr ¢ looked up at him, her eyes fluffed with Fate Certainly, Mary.” replied Eric you had lied like a lady I should have spurned for in society novels they all lie like that, like lad Tofi a lady that lies like a thief is refreshir Mary, | You c ee this on page 162! of “His Friend a His Wife,’ by Cosmo Hamilton (Little, Brown & Company) Only the first paragraph belc tothe auth The rest is mine, for it all flashed on me like an inspir tion that no one but a rank outsider could write the re tion. Eric could h he exclusive Quaker rmen and rong had answer to Mary's daring que given no other answer, for at Hill social colony all the males were the women were eithe! , had » be wronged or Cursed the Day been wrong I were going hey not been wronged This. I trust, will give you an a of the scenario of Mr. Hamilton's story. It concerns the very créme 1erican social life: A scandal got started in good old Bon ‘Ton manner between Julian Osborn and Margeret Meredith. Law- yer Hicks kes Mary Miller ughter of Maud Muller) the Everybody in the colony, de la skim of A grandc at-ce having finished that mont Smart Set and Van Fair, plunges headlong in the muddy waters like Mack Sennett’s Bathing Beauties. The puddle naturally gets although Cosmo himself advances | springboard every hour or ddle a handful of moral dirtier and dirtier, to the very end of the soci throws into the p so and maxims mixed with sterilizing epigrams Penitence buzzes in on page 230 half-tone. —a beautiful Margeret is weeping on her knees—‘ that De CAssERES husbands should be.” over her in just such a ven “His Friend and His Wife r six daylight-saving mi have W. W.—tells Marge quit the vacuum-cleaning and scramble to her the coming. a God!" says one of the Pool Bathers, a them together, friendly-like, “is there anything mo « unexpected than a woman This is only : of the sparkling epigrams in. the They continue. however, to the bitter end of re 303 how a stealer of d Wife stanc rector will select v \f the pose as the d becomes a“ movie. passed Daisy nen are 1 on book Heap-Good Poetry tit right when he says that zypt_and younger than Oklahon It is a strange, weird can not translate uty of Read than is older The baby sings when it is born vem called “crying”. We grown-t the mystery and the terror and the tr Baby” g to the world; but it is a poem, a greeting, or a regret—I do not remember which my- self, as I was pretty young when I uttered that first poetry ic be a song, greeti "Here is some rattling good poetry put into the mouths of the children of America—the Indians Lew Sarett Many, Many Moons,” Henry Holt Company). He has lived in the North Country am« the Indians as guide and woodsman. He has w their spiritual and actual lives into beautiful When I read the poems I wished I had been born a Poor Lo! They woke up in me the old longings for Mother Earth, for the song of the wind without weather reports, to swing a pog-a-ma-hagen instead of a to wear moccasins instead of twenty dollar paper Oxfords, to live in tepees where the only evicting agent is the whirlwind and prairie-fire, beat a tom-tom that can’t the “Dardanella.” and just to say “Cha daisy a fine sunset instead of “Oh, play hotch-ee-da” when I see isn’t that a Turner for you!” I never quite got over “Hiawatha.” It is one of the Song of Songs to me—let the highbrows say all the nasty things they please about Uncle Longfellow. In (Continued on pi 52) comicbooks.com