Judge — June 19, 1920 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

F Tears Wourn Maxe Coxormoxs Fixe, Mo Quit Att Eis axp Suro tie Brass “le T Worn Maxe € joxs Fixe, Mo Quer Aut si ' Why Worry? By Wa Mlustra HE world is shot to picces, friends, and trouble stalks through every clime; confusion comes and never ends, and each new theory is a crime. Oh, when I read the public prints, their tales of wrath and sin and guile, my face has apoplectic tints, and I throw fits for quite a while. Then I recall the pregnant truth that throwing fits won't stop the game; these may be times of wreck, forsooth, but really, I am not to blame. You cannot charge it up to me, that all the world is out of whack, that all things are which shouldn't be, and sense is shot to Hull and back. This being so, why should [ wail, and my proud form in crape enfold? My clamorings would not avail, if I should knock the welkin cold And so 1 take my shining car, and scorch the highways, to and fro, and loiter where the jesters are, and go to see the pic ture show. They say that things are getting worse in Germany and other lands, and Anarchy, that grisly curse, like some foul threat of evil, stands. And sorrow follows every one, and want, from which no man may flee; and yet, when all is said and done, you annot charge it up to me. I had no soaring War Lord dreams, I had no banners to be furled; 1 never harbored aippy dreams of being boss of all the world. I did not long for blood and fire as Isat in my chaste abode; I only asked to swat my lyre, and carn my fifty cents an ode. Ido not feel that I’m to bI lame if peoples their angoras lose, 1s Mason by Rareu Bartox and so I go to see the game between the Home Team and the Blues. Lhear the wails of many gents who stand before the syna gogues; our dollar's worth but fifty cents, and things are going to the dogs. A man must take a goodly roll, a bundle that would choke a cow. if he would buy a peck of coal, or e'en a lid to shade his brow. He loads a pushcart with the seads, when he on shopping errand goes, to buy himself two liver pads, or pur- chase for the kids some clothes. It is an evil state of things, it is and yet I do not see, by jings, ju to blame And since I'm not to blame for this, and cannot change things as I'd like, excuse me while I search for bliss, and tool my up the pike. If tears would make conditions fine, and all our old time boons restore, I'd quit all else and shed the brine until [ had to swim ashore. Oh, there is trouble in the Jand, and there is sorrow on the sea; but this much you must understand—you cannot charge burning shame ww your uncle is au it up to me. Ii L could have my own sweet way, each hour would bring a new delight, and there'd be gladness all the day, and mirth and music all the night. It is not mine to build or wreck, I do not boss this mundane ame; if something hits you in the neck, you'll understand U’m not to bl comicbooks.com