Judge — April 29, 1922 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Things That Begin witha V By Witiiam ALLEN WHITE Author of “The Heart of a Fool” “Martial Adventures of Henry and Me” HE high gods were having a lot of fun ragging Bacchus in those days. Ina playful moment Hebe gave Mercury two bits to go out and get the morning stars, who sang to- gether and did some fine work in close harmony and barber-shop chords, to come around every evening when Bac- chus was sitting under the vine and sing, “Father, Dear Father, Come Home With Me Now,” or some such ditty as— “If for me the cup you fill, Oh, fill it from the sparkling rill.” Moreover, the gods took to wear- ing white ribbons, and whispered more or less about temperance societies and Gideon Bands. And Zeus, being at the moment rather in with Hebe and wish- ing to please her, got Jove to thun- der all over the place about the evils of strong drink, and_ the rocking of the gods in laughter was felt as far west as San Fran- cisco, and that was over sixty years ago. Poor old Bacchus was having a Drawn by Rorext PATTERSON rough voyage. For, when the gods begin guying one of their number they pull a lot of rough stuff. They pretty nearly roasted Jove to a crisp when he let Franklin and Morse and Edison get away with his lightning. But that is beside the point. But the point is that Bacchus was more than half sore when he did what he did, and is not so much to blame as it would seem. And this is what he did: Hebe was in the family entrance to the vineyard, rushing the can for Zeus. Bacchus was behind the bar giving her a bit of his lip, when Hebe passes it back to him like this: “Ah, you big crook, what did you ever do for the Earth, anyway? You got Philip of Mace- don drunk and spoiled our first League of Nations, and you are always play- ing around with that Venus woman, and we all know what she is. And then the two of you put the skids under Cleopatra and that Trojan bunch, and have been running under police protection for the last two thousand years. Why don’t you get busy and do something for the gang?” Doing her daily dozen. Drawn by Harry S By sunlight, electric—and candle, In high-heeled and fancy strapped sandal, She'll “cuddle” and “pet,” That’s dance etiquette, To be shy and demure is a scan- dal. She didn't more than half mean it. But it got the old boy; that and the “Father, dear Father,” business of the morning stars. So when Hebe was gone he calls the porter and says, “Boy, haven't we a rich old guy down there on earth somewhere work- ing for us who would do us a good turn?” And the porter, who was slicing the ambrosia and things for the lunch counter, batted his eyes for a minute, and says, “We sure have, Chief; man named Vassar, who runs a brewery down at Poughkeepsie. Rich old guy is right, all right.” “Well, then,” says Bacchus, “get his telepathic number from Mercury, for I want him to do me a favor.” In a few minutes Bacchus was running out this line: “Say, Matt, that you? Matt Vassar? Yes, yes. Well, I'm sure glad you have had a good run of luck. Boys all right down at the Vas- sar Brewery? Well, say, Matt, here’s what I wanted. Can't you do something down there to square me? This gang of rough- necks up here are deviling the life out of me because I don't do some welfare work.” A pause followed, in which Matthew Vas- sar made some remarks for the good of the order. Then Bac- chus came back, “A school—a (Continued on page 30)