Judge — May 20, 1922 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

its ord '24 ; you've absurd, ng ago, onsters to the ‘round. own, of her earing ide of walk a nic their & his ece “Do they go in very deep for astronomy, here?” “Well, the sky's the limit.” OUR OWN FAIRY TALES By T. S. Repplier, Carnegie Tech '23 "PP HREE painted, Came to a party to get well acquainted. Someone kissed one and the other two fainted. Foll-a-de-roll-a-de-rola. le girls all be-powdered and One little maid, quite small and petite Went out for a walk looking awfully sweet. Her skirt hung so low it was most to her feet Foll-a-de-roll-a-de-rola! A handsome young man, quite the beau of the town Was loved by renown. the false hearted wealthy one down Foll-a-de-roll-a-de-rola!! a widow of wealth and But beast turned the An idle young chap, quite a limousine giver, Invited a maid for a ride up the river. But at once she said no, and went off in a_flivver- Foll-a-de-roll-a-de-rola!!! “My dear,” said the husband, in tones rather light, “My business is keeping me here for the night.” “Go ahead,” said the wife, “you are doing just right.” Foll-a-de-roll-a-de-rola!!!! And so, ere you think that my tales are uncouth, I'll hang up my typewriter ribbon, forsooth. I wish I could swear I'd been telling the truth— Foll-a-de-roll-a-de-rola!!!!! Appearances Are Deceitful The dachshund is a funny sight, As on his way he calmly jogs. Though short his legs, his pants are quite As long as those of other dogs. B, Lobar, Columbia '22. A METRICAL OUTBURST By Roy R. Fuller, Olivet College '25 ‘VE come on stile wher college dreams more to see the rustic you and I had dreamed ou nd built our castles high and gay, the while we watched the silvery play of bright mognbeams across the shin- ing lake ‘tween hill and dale, where fairy queens would dance at our command. Our own in rved there on the rail—the little gash where once you stayed my hand when I had tried to carve an rowed heart around them, that all the school might see and know the fatal work of You were my girl and T was cupid’s dart. just your beau. Tis spring again, and I am sitting there while songs from Memory-land are bringing back the depths of love in h fair; and all is just the same, exc of you yourself. I'm with another girl. (It’s very. strange—I cannot get around it all.) She's got the same sweet smile and little curl —I like her just as well as you, confound it all! THE WIT OF THE ORACLE By J. L. Eddy, Jr., Cornell '24 PROF IR SNOPSLIP sat at the head of a long table in his seminar, the re- rownedly most cultural course in the uni- versity. The professor had a long beard nd side-whiskers, and unlike some of his pupils, wore pants. “What,” said he to the dense damsel on his right, “what was the purpose of Bruno in visiting Luon for the third time? Did he have in mind a new judgment of universals, or was he merely on the lookout for further material for his psychological aspersion of the seventeenth chamber of the Madrid inquisitional bench ?” “Really, Professor, I couldn’t say,” re- plied the charming girl addressed. “Neither could I,” said her preceptor, and at this professorial sally the entire class burst into uncontrolled merriment You don’t see the joke? Why, it’s simply 3 one in the class was concerned h getting a passing mark the course. ow do you see it? Ha, ha, But per- haps you don't see it yet. HUGHET Drawn by P. F. Hue Cornell’, BALLADE OF GHOSTLY DANCERS By J. W. Blair, Yale '23 WHEN time for dancing comes,-and in the dane We move, and Joy and high In Minuet and ancient Waltz, advance The ghosts of those who danced in years gone by fo tunes that, low and tender, lightly fly Unheard by us, for while our music plays We hear it only—move with sparkling For what care we for ghosts of other da: Perhaps the ancient ghosts look on askance And shake their vapor heads, whene’er they spy The College Walk or Scandal, and each rants As he watches later ghosts. How sadly sigh The dancers of the Minuet, when there draws nigh A pair of Waltzers, lost within the maze Of musie—who, seeing us, groan sad: “Oh, my!” But what care we for ghosts of other days? Behind the palms, hid from ghost maiden unts, Ghost dancers smile and tell a ghastly lie You most beautiful, most wonderful now chants Each ghost] Methinks they While in the lad,‘and maid will not deny. act the same as you and I shadowed corners, gay, they gaze In. smiling eyes—and mayhap each will try. But care we for ghosts of other days? Prince of To-morrow, when our songs shall die, And ‘others tread through our deserted Will they, hearing our ghostly murmur, cry: “But what care we for ghosts of other days?” comicbooks.com Music reign on -