Judge — July 2, 1921 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

———————— A —— Views —— Drawn by Nonax ANtHoNr WI1u1e’s IDEA OF A GLORIOUS FOURTH. Friendship: A Monologue H, my dear, how do you do? I am glad to see you. I was speaking about you only the other day to Ethel Trent. . . . Aren’t you getting stouter? No? Well, perhaps it’s that sweater —they make everyone look so fat and clumsy, don’t they? What a pretty hat! Where did you get it? ... Not really? You are lucky—I look like nothing on earth in anything cheap. If I were you I would wear it just a trifle lower over your face—more becom- ing.—There, that’s better. Turn your head a moment.—My dear, co you know you’re—well, don’t misunder- stand me, but you’re sagging a good deal. You ought to get one of Mme. Genevieve’s chin straps. They’re perfectly splendid. I know a woman who looked quite a lot worse than you do, and it did wonders for her. Still, I shouldn’t delay much longer about it if I were you. Looks make such a difference, don’t they? And—don’t think me hateful—it’s only because I’m so fond of you— but her wrinkle eradicators are marvelous—take away all those— you know—about your eyes. But the chin strap you really must have. The only thing against it is, you can’t speak a word after you’re once fastened up in it. I was telling Harold about it and he said it ought to be called “the husband’s friend’! Men can always think of something horrid to say—so different from women. Busy?—My dear, I’m the busi- est woman in this little old town— just a mad tear from morning till night. I said to Harold yesterday, I simply envied him being able to By May Isaseu Fisk sit quietly all day long in his office—resting I call it—with clerks and telephones and typewriters all around him so he practically has nothing to do but say what he wants done, while I’m exhausting myself every minute. But men are so dense some- times, or they pretend they don’t hear— and they never take a hint—at least Harold doesn’t. I said this morning, just as he was leav- ing the house, that I was going shopping today. That was while he was putting his coat on, and then I repeated it louder when he had his hat on, and all he said was, he hoped I would enjoy myself and please see to the button on his pajama coat! What do you think of that? And last night I had just come in from the dressmaker’s ready to drop, and I said then—the very moment Mary came in with the steak burnt black—stark, staring, black—and if you could have heard how The Morn of the Fourth By Marte Extyson NIGHT'S eyes twinkle and beam. A streak in the East—a flush! The Sun arises And draws a curtain of blue tapestry and fleecy cloud Between us and the stars— But not between us and the Stars and Stripes. Grandad, who sees to that, Runs up the Flag! The Boy astride the window-sill, The Girl in rat-tails, Mother at the door, And the Cock of the Walk, salute and shout aloud! Harold went on—never caring at all that my nerves were simply dancing on end. I’d been standing the entire afternoon while that wretched woman kept on pin- ning, and at the end she nearly swallowed a whole mouthful of pins. Mind it was my dress she might have spoiled, not hers, and I did all the standing and criticizing. If people could only see themselves as they really are, what a lot of surprises there would be—Oh, where did I leave off about Harold? Oh, yes, something about food— Well, never mind but it’s just made me remember, I’ve bought such a clever pow- der to help out with the tea—makes it go twice as far—a sort of prepared sawdust— it’s quite digestible and perfectly harmless —for the kitchen of course. The man said it fed while it saved—there was a great deal of nutriment in it—and only a dollar and a half a pound. One can do so much to cut down the bills if you are just a little clever and keep your eyes open. : Oh, nothing much— T’ve been in the bargain basement picking up a few things for next Xmas presents—just for Harold’s family. They live in the country. Yes, but I always start in the sum- mer, before things are picked over. Well, I must toddle—if I don’t get home in time there will be another burnt steak—only it’s lamb tonight—and I'll never hear the last of it. Men are so selfish. You must come and spend a whole day with me next week—set your own time—any day will suit me. ... Oh, you can? How nice—I fancied——... No, not Monday, dear—I can’t pos- sibly arrange Monday, but any comicbooks.com