Judge — July 8, 1922 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

“Not that way, silly,” she gasped breathlessly; shaking her hair back into place. ‘ ealwaysget ple nty of thatsort!”’ “Well,” I said stiffly, “if Iam to under- stand by that that you permit every—” “My dear boy, don’t be absurd! If you think that merely because I've fool- ishly condescended to become engaged to you, you have a right to—" “My mistake!” I inte rrupted meekly. “T'm glad at least that we're still engaged. Flap on.” Wat irritates me,” continued Betty, after a moment of dusting her thoughts and powdering her nose, “is that you men insist that we're to be nothing but stupid butterflies, and dance through life all bound up in your silly traditions—” “If their stricture interferes with your dancing,” I suggested, “why not park them as you do—er—other t ings?” “We do,” replied Betty. “It would be simple enough if that were all one thought of. Of course, it’s—” “Merely because I alluded to corsets, Betty, does not mean that that’s all I think of. Though the Lord knows—” The Flapper Walk Down at the heel is she, And yet her grace is queenly; Laugh at the Flapper as you will She'll bob right up serenely. “AS I was going to say,” went on Betty coldly, “when you so crudely inter- rupted me—of course it’s useless to try to make-you realize that it's not your idiotic restrictions that irritate us. They're cer- tainly easy enough to sidestep. It’s the principle of the thing.” “Yes, yes, go on,” I said. my interest.” “Well, it’s about time you awoke to the “You draw isn't that. Principal always t. But don’t mind me, dear, ble, you know.” “Psychiatrists would have another name for it,” said Betty somberly. “One not nearly so gentle, but much more accurate and colorful. But go on; I don’t mind! I'm sure we’ve gotten used to putting up with that sort of thing from you men, It merely bears out what I was saying. ‘Observing that Betty was primed for further interruption, I waited meekly. “ys IT any wonder we've responded as we have?” she continued, after an- other futile dab at her nose. “Flappers are simply the spirit of revolt, incarnate.” 4 “The spirit of revolt,” I murmured tentatively, “is all moonshine.” “If that's intended as another pun,” said Betty, “it's atrocious! And if it isn’t, I want to tell you the spirit of revolt isa very real and moving thing!” “With the accent, as you properly placed it, on ‘reel‘and movie.’ Sub-title: ‘No Mother Had Guyed Her!’ All this swearing-jazz-divorce stuff, Betty, is simply fool theatricals, One can't get away from what one’s born.” “Remember,” said Betty ominously, “you were born a bachelor!” “My dear,” I interrupted hastily, “can't you take a joke?” “Evidently—since I still intend to y you.” marry y “Well, then, as your future husband—” “MY FUTURE first husband,” cor- rected Betty sweetly. “Oh, you needn’t jump around like that; I know what you're going to say. But the * flapper isn’t training herself to be a de- sirable wife; she’s training to be a de- sirable divorcée! “You see, one doesn’t look for much in comicbooks.com