Judge — June 25, 1921 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

nd an an las pen ext ren “Tur HUSBAND COMES AND SEES HER AT EVENING IN mis FLAT.” Be Cheerful HE world is dark and shady, the sun has jumped its job; but do not weep, my lady, or heave the soulful For tears are moist and_ bitter, they jar the passing gents, they make the female critter appear like fourteen cents. The glad and smiling maiden is always bound to please, but when we see her wad- in’ in tears up to her knees we do some caustic hemmin’ and hawin’ as we go, and say that she’s a lemon who thus displays her woe, We all adore the woman who’s chipper, gay and fine, but she is less than human when she is shedding brine; it ruirts all the powder she’s strewn upon her face, and makes it look like chowder, a blemish and disgrace. And so I say, be cheerful, and put a smile across, for when a lady’s tearful she is a total loss. Glad homes still go to ruin, as they have gone of yore, because the wife is strewin’ her tear-drops on the floor. The husband comes and sees her at eve- ning in his flat, and cries “Great Ebenezer! sob, By Watt Mason Illustration by Raven Barton I cannot stand for that! If she would swing the cleaver, or slug me with a brich I'd stand life's fitful fever, and never file a kick. But when I hear her wailing, and see her wilt and droop, my martial soul is quailing, and I desert the coop.” So let your face be shining, however sad your soul; for weeping and repining will put you in the hole. Your nose gets blue or scarlet, that once was like a rose, and hubby, fickle varlet, detests that sort of nose, The grouchy boys annoy us, men hate their dismal stuff; so, if you can’t be joy- ous, at least put up a bluff. I'm naturally doleful, my mind is full of care; I always have a soul full of grim and bleak despair. Long since I used to show it, I sprung the anguished wail, and people said, “That poet should surely be in jail. He makes us think of corses, and all things on the blink; he scares the village horses, and drives us all to drink.” Misfortune tried to bust me, in those dark days of yore; no merchant prince 13 would trust me in And when I ran for sheriff, or keeper of the d, the voters didn’t care if they stamped me in the ground. And I had indigestion, that made my form a wreck, and it was but a question of when I’d cash my check. At last I saw that grieving was getting me in bad, and so, with smiles deceiving I chased around the grad. I learned to sing and twitter and wear a smile serene, and, though my heart was bitter, my mug was quite a scene. And so I do my weeping behind the cel- lar stair; in public I am keeping a face de- void of care. And now the town evinces affection, as it should; and all the merchant princes re- mark, “Your stand-ofi’s good!” And when I ask the voters to make me county clerk, they ly come in motors, and then get in their work! Oh, cheer up, cheerless chappie, for glad ness is the stuff; and if you can’t be happy at least put up a bluff! ny shop or store.