Judge — October 1, 1921 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

life! Well, you old fraud, if you won’t come along, I’ll go myself!” Brown watched Martin de- part, his eyes bulging with anger, amazement and concern. Then, a great light seemed to appear to him. He shook his head sadly. “Never knew him to drink so hard before,” he communed to his soul. ‘I wonder where he gets it?” Unconsciously, he licked his lips. ‘Must be over- work, or maybe the heat. I must inform his family at once.” In the meanwhile, John Mar- tin reached the pond and looked around, He was filled with the sheer joy of living, bub- bling over with happin and freedom for the first time in many years. He sang snatches of old songs as he took off his shoes, and on a sudden, wild impulse, wove a crown of leaves and put it on his head; then he waded into the cool waters, and they seemed to lave his very soul with a soothing delight. He shouted to the birds, whistled and laughed as boy- hood dreams came back to him across the years. He forgot the crowded conventional years, his position as a “first citizen” of the community. Then he became aware that a group of people were rapidly approaching the pond, and had observed his tom-boy actions. He watched them with interest. They were his wife, his daughter and her fiancé, his son, the family doctor, William Brown and several others of his friends. Their looks of con- cern and amazement amused him hugely. “John Martin!” cried his wife. “Whatever are you doing?” “Wading, my dear,” smiled Martin blandly. “It’s great sport! Take off your shoes and stockings and come on in—the water's fine!” She gasped, too stunned to answer. “See here!” blustered the family doctor, approaching the bank. “You'll catch your death of cold! Come out, man, why, in your condition—” “Bunk!” interrupted Martin, splashing around. “You’re a fraud, doc! You can’t pull that old stuff on me any more! Come on in—it’ll do you good—put some life in your old carcass!” The doctor retreated, and the en- tire group exchanged meaning glances, “Listen, Dad!” broke in his son. “You're making a fool of yourself! What are you wearing that bunch of leaves for—” “Oh, shut up!” blithely answered Martin. “You make me sick! You think you’re smart, don’t you? Well, you'll soon find out what a little won- der you are when you try to run the business!” He fingered the wreath, then, consumed with an impish de- sire to shock them further, he danced around gleefully, splashing himself with joyous abandon. “For I’m the Queen of the May,” he sang. The group on the bank retreated further. His daughter’s fiancé looked wildly about for an avenue of escape, should it become necessary, and Mar- tin saw the look. 10 te hud A Johnny Held says “she dropped in on him under-wears!” “You little, freaky, fat- head!” he cried, shaking a finger at the gawping young man. “For two cents I’d come out and knock your block off! —only I wouldn’t hit a man with a collar on like yours—it’s too high and dangerous— might cut your throat!” “John!” cried Brown. heaven’s sake—” “Lot you'll ever know about heaven,” cut in Martin. ‘You sly fox! I saw you kiss your stenographer that time— Brown fled. Martin’s wife tottered, and there was a gen- eral stampede. Martin was finally coaxed to “For come out and go home. At the dinner table, he demanded cookies, pie and jam. There was an ominous silence at the table. The family eyed one another with covert, meaning glances. “Going to gorge myself for once in my life,” Martin an- nounced, “with the food I have wanted for years. Any objec- tions?” He glanced around at the faces of his family. They eyed the doctor, who also sat at the board. “Give it to him!” commanded the doctor, with the air of a sage. Late that night, Martin heard his family discuss him with the family doctor. “it’s nothing violent,” said the doctor. ‘He'll be all right in a few days. But we must prepare for whatever may come. Don’t be alarmed when I tell you that it may be a mild case of—er—insani The family gasped, audibly. “Nuts!” grinned = Martin, sneaking back to his bedroom. “Can you beat it? Crazy as bed bugs, the whole crew of them!” After Dining By LAToucHE HANCOCK A “petit diner”’—roast and grilled— ** A calm on the post-prandial sea, A grateful sense of needs fulfilled, And peace for me! A shaded lamp, an easy chair, Black coffee drunk with thoughtful sips, A cigarette that scents the air Between the lips! The pages of the last Review Lie, staring at me, on my lap, And I will take—now, wouldn’t you?— Five minutes nap?