Judge — May 13, 1922 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

Drawn by “Come, son! / sure he doesn’t J. HoLMaren. ON THE BOIS Let us try another! I'm understand a word of French!” From a Schoolboy’s Stand- ACQUITTED point 4 on your coat? We call them “Toonervilles,” in fun. While waiting for these cars to come, Great droves of autos past us hum. We fellows flag these passing “boats” And try to get the drivers’ goats. | Though when one stops and says, “Hop on" Our yearning for his goat has gone. But The finer their car, The meaner they are. dear, and I’m hungry as a bear. dinner ready?” go to a restaurant to-night. broken the can-opener.” The flivver owner’s never proud. And when he sees that noisy crowd Yelling: “Please, mister, take us in?” As like as not he'll kind o’ grin, \ j Shut off the gas, push on the brake, And see how many he can take. But those who ride in limousines Have marble hearts and ivory beans. Yep, The finer their car, The meaner they are. —— Of course there’s now and then a chap} Has brains and heart below his cap; While hid around in him somewhere There is a soul so fine and fair That, even though he drive a barge Upholstered, shiny, new and large, He'll pick us up the same as if He were some common lizzie-stiff. But all we boys who go to school Have figured out this general rule: That The finer their car, 4 The meaner they are. moa in cup of “tea.” She—What is this dark hair doing (Slightly Bolsheviki) He—That is the suit I wore last By Strickland Gillilan year. I expect the hair has been on ovr my school’s way, jerkwaters it ever since you were a brunette, run— dearest. . HANDICAPPED “I’ve had a hard day at the office, Is “No, love, I’m afraid we'll have to I've fs i Owing to an error on the waiter’s part, Aunt Prudella gets Mr. Lush’s Modernity By Katharine Dunlap THE young man did not seem to be enjoying himself. When he rose from the table to dance again, as the noisy orchestra started playing, he seemed languid—lacking in zest. His companion was tireless. Ever ready to go out on the floor at the first note of the music; beating time with a restless, slippered foot if her escort delayed a moment. She was of the extreme type. Skirts a trifle too short, hair obviously “touched-up,” rouge and lip-stick too freely used. There was little conver- sation between them. She was all for action. When the music began for the fourth dance the youth did not rise. She leaned towards him provocatively. “Oswaid—aren’t we going to dance this?” With a little sigh the boy got on his feet. “Gee, grandma, can’t we go home after this one? You know we've got to pick up mother on the way back. She telephoned that she’d forgotten her latchkey.”” VERY PARTICULAR Hotel Clerk—Will you want a pri vate bath? Wayback—Yes. I don’t fancy those swimming-pools. GOOD ADVICE Saphead—My dear, you are my har- bor of love. Miss Sweet— Well, don't think about anchoring until your ship comes in comicbooks.com