Judge — August 12, 1922 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

“I want no idle chatter then from any locoed jay” A World of Wind HATE to stand up for my rights, I however much I'm gored; and. so, through all my days and nights, by windsmiths Fam bored, TL eannot spring a Mars-like frown when bores around me sl and fairly beat the talkers down, » them cold and canned. For I am but an easy mark, a soft and smiling toff, and bores come to me in the park and talk my whiskers off. or park is something fair to sce there sparkling fountains play there the thrush and bumblebee put. in the long bright day. And there I'd like to sit for hours and think of p . of humming birds among f hornets and their stings. But do I take a seat before the bore ri he has rheumatics in his feet, his beck is red with hives. He tells me of the zen ills by which he’s doubly and of the many Kinds of pills that haply he’s consumed. His drug: shipped to him in wains, his pills arrive in “gs; he tells me of punk pallid pains that wlong his legs. T list. with) sym- when [ would like to swear; [ lack the courage to arise and shoo the bore elsewhere. ‘To hurt the feelings of a skate is something I can’t do, although with bitterness [ hate the rags he likes to chew. lope pathetic sighs, By Watt Mason ILLUSTRATION BY Henry J. Peck HEN riding in my which is my and pride, L overtake some weary cuss and offer him a ride, And he'd be welcome to the jaunt if he would just be still, and watch the gallant Lizzie flaunt her person up a hill. When [am sprinting up the reads as only Lizzie sprints, [think up all my deathless odes ford pcr and other prints. T want no idle tter then from any locoed jay, as 1, iding through the glen and by the burn and brac. My passenger, however, thinks that he should spi while, and with his wisdom take the kinks from every flecti ig And so he talks of things I hate, that make me sad; ¢ ought to state, to heal conditions bad. And of the gods I have inquired why bores always thus; they talk of things that make us tired, that cl and madden us. A man of sterner, harsher mold would not this grief endure; he’d take the bore, with athlete’s hold, and strew him o'er the moor. But Iam = such simp I do not say a word, and so he talks me lame and limp, and all this is absurd. new tin’ bus, boast a spineless OFTEN say to my Aunt Jane, when we sit by my door, “Thi others pain makes life a | bore. I simply cannot crush the who comes to talk a while, around whose 1s homely mug is bent a large and friendly smile. And so. they're talki > to death, these windy, wordy some of them have bootleg brea have frightful fangs. And ‘some have ancient tales in stock, old tales that should be tinned, and others stutter as alk, and some have broken wind. imes think up drastic plans for squel call this crew, but I ean’t crush the also rans as sterner people do.” “And it is surely well you e: . happiness would fade, if you did th: urks my aunt, who is a wise old 1 ‘he bores come up and tell you thir of which you make a pome, and it is thus,” she says, “by jings, you bring the bacon home. some always per- Do Eager Bride—And you're fectly happy with your husband? tell me how to ma it! “Oh, it’s quite simple, my d ly change husbands frequently per Mere- The average depth of the seas of the world is three miles. You might read this item while safely seated in your bath tub. ott “What have you ready to serve, Os- shed vitamines and calories a la mode.” comicbooks.com