Judge — April 8, 1922 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

With LOVE LYRIC OF A CYNIC THE substerfuge Of patch and rouge Is far too crude for my love; No painted cheek Or lips bespeak The charms endued in my love. Her pleasant face Is not the place Luella hides the trick of her; The artifice Of my sweet miss Is in her heart. How chic of her! —Dartmouth Jack o’ Lantern. ETHEL HAD met Ethel about two months before; she was a nice girl and I liked her. Last Saturday, when I was on my way to see her, I took the sub- way. I picked up a swell Jane there with bobbed hair, natty open-work stockings and everything. Tepid canine, but she was a corker! I decided to call Ethel up and tell her I didn’t feel able to see her that night. She said something about being all alone, but I was too excited to listen. To make a short story shorter, we had a helluva good time that evening. Going home in a taxi, I asked for her home address. It was the same as Ethel’s! I was in a quandary when we reached there; we started up the stoop, the door opened and—out stepped Ethel “Mother,” she said, “so you were out with him?” I ran as fast as I could down the street. I haven’t seen her since.— Stevens Tech. Stone Mill. the Irrepressible, The First Spark Plug. —Washington and Jefferson Wag Jag. Joyous, IRRELATIVITY “Ein Stein.” —Michigan Gargoyle. THE LIVELY COIN Dollar—Insignificant nickel, I’m just twenty of you. Nickel—I should worry. I go to chapel every Sunday. — Wesleyan Wasp. THE SPECIFICATION Gloria—How do you like Jim? Marie—AIll right, only he’s too blame tight—” “Oh, I don’t think so—” “To dance with.”"—Michigan Gar- goyle. THE RETORYT COURTEOUS “Papa,” asked little Willie, “why do they call it the mother-tongue?” “Well, answered father, “just see who uses it the must!” — Bowdoin Bearskin. 21 ege Irresponsible y Wits WIVES AND WIVES you know the man who'll fight the flocks of classmates who would cop your sox, who brings you training- table chow and wears your best in- spection blou. He shares your room and guards your life, he is your good old N. A. “wife.” But when you leave these portals wide and non-reg clothes don’t have to hide, you wonder if a better half would give your hoary jokes a laugh, and stand your loudest midnight snore, and sweep your ashes from the floor. Although I'd like a helpmate neat, my back don’t fancy ice-cold feet. And though I fear no big gun’s din, I’d hate to face a roll- ing-pin. So when the chaplain knots in glee, I’m glad a knot is not for me. —Annapolis Log. A LITERARY ROMANCE HE QUOTED sentimental verse And kissed her lily hand, And begged a blossom from her breast While sitting on the sand. He danced and swam and golfed with her, And at the season's end He said good-bye in accents far Too ardent for a friend. She treasured up the memory Of every tender glance, And defield him in her heart. Her hero of romance; Until, alas! she chanced to learn A fact that sadly shook Her faith in man—he’d studied her To put her in a book. —Pennsylvania Punch Bowl. ‘Do you know what Si did after he read that new novel?” “No.” “He wrote Central Avenue on the Main Street signs.’—Harvard Lam- poon. comicbooks.com