Judge — October 28, 1922 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

ing the in- the ms ish me eir ly- to ral of Ale th to all you airily reply, “I really never had the craze, but I did it for the good of my hair!” and are gree howls of derision and a ery of, at they all say trepidation, T° ADD to your other newly ac responsibilities, you immediate a Permanent Wave Prospect: Do but put one foot across the hair pecialist’s threshold, the air becomes electric with suggestions, not to say veiled threats, for intrusting what he have tender mercies of rma left to the Mayhap there’s freedom of the seas, but there's no freedom from a Permanent Wave—this side of Paradise. Firm though you may be to let nature take its », the “bobbed locks smith” will end ip by putting a crimp in you, in spite of Yet, all in all, the Bob's the thing. We mmend it highly. And as a cure for 1 woes it can’t be beat. For house- knee, a husband, « ny worry of the day or week, w n- advise the Bob, for from the moment decide to take the short cut to riety there'll be room for nothing on r mind but your hair. ey His Wife—Stony, as usual? Did you ever succeed in making both ends m Mr. Everbroke—Yes. When I was a baby Lused to put my toes in my mouth. DRAWING “Jane, I don’t like all that make-up on you, and I’ve told you so Why do you persist in doing it?” “But, dad, you wouldn’t want me to go about with my face stark before. naked, would you?” Waiter—Does Monsieur desire garlic with his salad? Customer—No, not a trace. Don’t even breathe on it. tas Visitor—Why is it that you are so glad vacation is over? Johnny—Now T can play hookey again. Halloween Fancy Work THE LINE Hitching Up Misfortune by Ted Olson THOUGHT a lot of Mary Ann; It seemed none other mattered; And when she wed another man My heart was well-nigh shattered. For nearly seven days on end I heaped my fate with curses, And then, to salve my fate, I penned Some very somber verses. I sent them to a magazine And soon received a letter; It brought a check for $12.15, Which made me feel much better. Thad to thank the fickle She hurt me sorely—but it paid! I purchased quite a block of stock, I thought it could be trusted. I must admit it was a shock When that concern went busted. I did not sorrow very long, Or let grief be my master; I simply scribbled out a song About the sad disaster. The vaudeville crowd it seemed to please. They found it apt and funny; In brought me in, in royalties, \ little mint of money! And thus you see my simple rimes Paid up my oil stock several times! And though it seems I am beset By all the imps of Tophe No matter what mishaps I’ve met I've turned them all to profit. And when my life is all askew And fate cuts some new caper, I do not moan or fret or stew— I put it down on paper. And if I've found life’s journey rough, Devoid of joy and glory, It simply means I’ve more good stuff For lyric, jest and story. My mirth, my woe, my foes, my friends— I turn them all to dividends! vi You can’t fuel all the people all the time, apparently.