Judge — July 24, 1920 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

Under Bolshevik Rule > of b ave of hi Excitement “What's the crowd n there?” “Don't know. It may be an accident cr it may be that somebody has adver- tised a house to rent.”—Detroit Free Press Lesson in Business—“ Por “Yes, my son.” “What is a gardene “A gardener is a man who raises a few things, my boy. “And what is a farmer?” “A man who raises a lot of things.” “Well, what is a middleman, ie “Why, he’s a fellow who raises every- thing, my son.”— Yonkers Gazette. Too Literal—Blondine Beanbrough the thick one? Bru —He¢ is all of that. *L said to him ‘every time Topen my mouth I put my foot in it—’” “Uh huh!” “And right away the poor fish looked down at- my feet.”—Youngstown Tele gram. Isn't. Bennie Clock-Work—Jack owned a German- made watch. Recently it refused to run, so Jack took it to the jeweler. He made & post-mortem examination, and when Jack called for the verdict his watch was Sadie, be a good girl, and always remember kholm). handed to him, with a piece of crépe tied fo it. “No hope,” was the mournful verdict of the jeweler. “What's the matter?” alarmed. “Found a cockroach inside.” pat’s what plugged up the works, asked Jack, No," replied the jeweler. “The cock- roach had been keeping the thing going, but he his post.""—London Telegraph. died at Art and Nature Tue Nanion’s Treasures World (London). 18 Futility Into my study, to prepare my mind For composition of a lofty kind, L stepped; I locked the door; I wheeled a chair Beside there In eager ease, I turned my: searching looks To the inspiring backs of noble books. I glance at Tristram Shandy—but I arn That when I start, I Sterne; I turn to Lamb and read a page or two— He calms my mind, and what I have to do Requires more energy. I therefore shift To the incisive savagery of Swift He minds me of Voltaire—1 pause to read A page of pessimism from Candide, But finding that ape, upon th whole, As lacking in humanity and soul As Herbert Kauffman is, or Herbert Spencer, I fing him down, and turn to that immen ser And sweeter, younger Frenchman, Rabe lais. This day I force myself to drop such gay affairs, And glance awhile at alphabetic pairs Browne and Balzac, Cervantes and Catullus, Strindberg and Tibullus. Horace and Heine, Milton taigne, Rousseau Verlaine. I close the case, and turning deskward thence, My brain filled full of lofty sentiments, I feel that Tam in a prime condition For first-class literary composition. Hail Muse! Great poems wait for hours like the: I poise my hands above the pregnant keys— I wait—I think—I groan—I scratch—1 blot— I think I hay not— And after sweating for two hours to- gether, Write three Weather! the bookcase, and reclining ay too long with sage nearly ruins my whole working Shaw, Turgenieff and and Mon- and Rolland, Veblen and a thought—I find I've sad stanzas on The Rotten Cleveland Plain Dealer comicbooks.com