Judge — June 4, 1921 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

I Found It By Irene Van Vatkennurc AM an Umptyump princess. Of course I say Umptyump merely to conceal my identity, for my father’s kingdom was once widely known and highly spoken of. But he and it went under during the recent diplomatic panic. I escaped with the crown jewels and my first lady-in-waiting, and chose France as a good place to flee t I had read the French classical advertise ments of their Personal Liberty, which seemed to be quite free there, and after Umptyump, Personal Liberty was the one thing I asked of Life. We were very popular in France, but an unpleasant thing happened. An old count got himself married to my lad, waiting. Now Ursula quite hated the count, but the French custom is to dismiss one’s lover and marry the dolt who can give one the finest salon, or, as in Ursula’s case, the noble who can buy one the most lucrative greengrocery. And even then one is not quite in the fashion unless one con- tinually concocts thrilling affairs with the men one did not marry. My free spi rebelled at such restraining rules, and I cast about in my mind for a nice, unadvertised country where the inhabitants kept their private affairs decently private. China seemed to answer, but they practice an- cestor worship in China, and if my immedi ate forbears were any criterion. . ‘Then I saw quite clearly that the older the civilization the more unfitted for it I was. I applied the reverse rule and went to Africa. But the wild natives of Central Africa were most disillusioning They are hopelessly conventional creatures. Convention with them is even more hidebound than with the French. It seems they have a tradi- tion bearing on the unimportance of imported human life, and they cling to this tradition so devotedly that I presume their local Mrs Grundy inspired it. When I heard the death tom-toms sound for the second time I went from that place without delay, I tried America, the land of the free. I made determined in quiries for the state of Personal Helen of Troy Liberty. By Jous Hern, In, ann Georce Mrtcnent “You are in the Great West,” I was told. “You are in the heart of ¢)" freedom.” Sia Wues Hevenx ratrreo tHe Boutevarns or Troy MADE THE OTHER VAMPS LOOK HOI-POLLOI CAUSED A WAR By VAMPING Paris I will not pain you with the Great (\ Benvepere aroctinanis) West. The West is Progressive. It is the law there. Citizens are not permitted to think Eastern thoughts or to follow out European ideas. They have to be on tap with something new every minute. I did not like being forced to pro- gress. The sturdy Westerners laughed at me and said I would do better in the Sleepy South. But I knew I should never be nod form there, for, by the accident of birth, I could not join in their devotions. Cusic Prange Horse-Sense She (the Mare)—You Never WOULD THINK OF DOING ANYTHING LIKE THIS, WoULD you? . Heres, 18 ater Day was some pecoy! They use ancient glory where the Chinese use ancestors. I went to New York. I paid for the conversation of a long-haired man and asked him about the cit, “Oh, yes,” he said, “‘you will indeed find Personal Liberty here. Yes, indeed! Only do not look for it among the plutocrats who reside Uptown. Thi re held down by the dictates of Society, which says that cach one shall outshine the other. And do not look for it among the poor of the East idea of freedom is to sacri- thing in life toward the ultimate ownership of the ladies-ready-to-wear in- dustry. But go to Greenwich Village There you will find the real, untrammeled spirit of liberts I rushed upon the Village. “Personal Liberty!” I shouted “Here it is!” the Village shouted back. “We will let you develop your ego in your own way. But get different clothes first-— yours are conventional. Rent a cellar the garrets down here are all taken. Don’t work for your living, and don’t beg, for we don’t imitate the proletariat. Don’t get married, and don’t indulge in any but platonic affairs; don’t talk Imperialism and don't talk Bolshevism—talk Individ ualism and the Village! Bob your hair and wash the rouge off your face and buy a copy of Amy Darnaboy’s new book.” great light flooded my understanding. “Must I avoid all the conventions practiced by all the peoples of all the world?” “All! All!” they chorused. “You allow me too much liberty,” I said, and I shot myself, and joined the angels. Worth the Price Mother—If you eat any more, you will burst. Willie—Well, pass the cake again and move away. comicbooks.com