Judge — October 2, 1920 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

WITH THE {rrepressible, The Lament of a Highbrow It is terrible to be born a highbrow, but it’s something a man can’t re: help. L have often tried to break away from this hereditary handicap and enjoy some of the things human beings enjoy. I have attended a cinema performance and. hav hundreds of people rocking with glee over some episode that meant simply nothing in my life. Probably not one of them had read “The Four Horse- men of the Apocalypse,” or “Mare Nostrum.” And musical comedies and bedroom farces! Disgraceful! I have scen men and women laugh- ing at comic drawings. Even, and 1 blush to admit it, [ have caught my young brother reading a book called “ Pigs is 2 and chuckling mildly to himself. Perhaps [ am to be the last highbrow representative of my race: While the ribald songsters, the slang writers, so-called comic artists and slap- stick comedians continue to entertain and make the world laugh, I plod along my weary way and preserve my tradit I shall retain my lofty viewpoint, my exalted perspective and continue my endeavor to enjoy the unenjoy- able— But gee! It’s a tough life, I'll tell the world.—Pennsyloania Punch Bow! seen Reminiscence ‘ather, what does redundancy mea » my son, is a mistake in ar one commits when he speaks Cornell Widiw. gramm of retired bartenders.” od Description Osh Kosh—That’s a vampy’ little chair you've got there. Gosh Frosh—Whaddayamean? Osh Kosh—Bare legs, a low back, and not much upholstery.—Afan. ech. Voo Doo. WE FIND A Seat?—Princeton Joyous, “Dip you HEAR AnovuT THE ELEVATOR DANCE?” No. “Irs a cixcu. No sters to 11.""—Yale Record. Repartee “Well of all the nerve ping his face when he kissed her. “Well, then,” he pouted, ‘if that's , you feel about it, get off my the w Towa Prive Shy Young Thing—I can't STAND Kisstxc! Vetcran—V' Lt. Absit 17 18 A BIT TRYING. iger. 2 she said, slap- COLLEGE WITS Irresponsible At Last! He had known her for years. He had seen a good deal of her—in more ays than one. He had sat across the parlor from her; she had, of course, crossed her legs; he had seen her trim ankles. her... He had seen her at the seashore, wearing her tantalizing, silky hing suit, with its short dress, with its cute little slippers, with its . He had scen her in her traveling suit; in her cape; in her house-dress; inher... He scen her at full dress affairs, and considering that these dresses are as they are, he had, of course, seen... But it was not until a long, long while that he approximated the ulti- mate. It was just a parlor date—one of many—which did not give promise of being any different from all the others. But one thing will lead to another! Finally, by a little slip of the arm, by a little jerk of the head, a little this, and a litle that, some hairpins came slightly out; her hair hung a little loosely at the sides; and—essence of compromise!—he saw her cars! —Pennsyleania Punch Bol. Manifesto of a Spring Lover Ihave read Schopenhauer, who says women are unxsthe I have read Strindburg, who says are impossible; read Wilde, who says they are unnecessary; I have read Nietzsche, who says they are unimportant; And I have read any number of birds, who say they are pretty, vain, and deceitful, BUT, dear, you know that Suave I don’t believe them!! —Ivwa Frisol, comicbooks.com