Judge — January 6, 1923 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

Pelhamhurst Golf and Country Club, Ardsley, Westchester County, N. Y. gles and Birdies by Walter Trumbull H" press agent decided that Miss Dotty ‘Twinkletoes Should have her picture taken in a proper golfing pose; So bright and early, say perhaps nine hours beyond the dawn, He had photographers set up their cameras on the lawn. There's no astronomer can tell when movic stars will rise, But two hours later Dot appeared, to every- one’s surprise She wore a dress of sweet brocade with roses worked upon it, And high heeled shoes and, on her head, a very fetching bonnet. ‘The smile she gave the working crew was made of honeyed stuff It should have snared them all like flies—but camera men are if “So sorry to have m: you wait.” “Likell you are,” said one, But as he said it ‘neath his breath no harm at all was done. “Twas really when she took her stance the actress proved her art; She held the putter given her with hands two feet apart And raised it high above her h a dream, While some one stooped to tee a ball upon a d, ethereal as chocolate cream, She waited till the shutters clicked not one to shirk she was Then, drooping, sought the house again, ex- hausted from her work; Some thought her pathway easy, but such per- sons made her laugh: She still had fifty programs for her maid to autograph. Well, scarcely was she in before the photo- graphs were out press agent delivered them to papers round about They could be used in Sunday picture sections, so he said Th was a caption went with each—and this is how it read: Told at the “A real enthusiast at golf is Dotty Twinklet She plays the game for hours on end, body knows s every= This is a snapshot made of her when driving from the tee A full 200 yards or more, at Sandlinks-by-the- Sea.” A reformer is generally a man who has tried it and found that it doesn’t agree with him. The first to generally is the finish an unavoidable job lazy man—he wants to get it over. Watches were invented so that a man could tell aecura appointment ly how late a woman was for an When I lay me down to sh Toward my back IT feel h Surely she would take all mi For first prize in frigid sreeps Always explain to friend wife what a “birdie” is. She might think it a pet name for some one. . * * To get thoroughly warm this winter the poor may have to wait for a fire in a coal yard. Revolver practice never became really popu- lar among women until they bobbed their hair and laid aside the hatpins. There was a fire in an asbestos mine the other day, which may lead some skeptics to declare that the dog with the asbestos legs never caught the cat. 19th Hole He'll never be so proud again, Whatever his renown, As when he wears the big lea, Back to the small league town The trouble about a man sowing his wild oats is Uhat he rarely sticks to his own field Our real wish for a be what we hoped the old one might be. ew year is that it may 1 developing stuck on som » thing which prevents most men from is that they get ‘Time heals many scars, but it takes death to heal them all. Sunshine follows rain and moonshine follows prohibition. ‘gna Ballades of a Dub by ALN. C. Fowler We Dead Ones in the Bunkers Lie S mts blest bones should there be hid 7 And not become obliterate, Old Khufu reared a pyramid, Where his re ns should lie in st Out on our course they've built such great Basili ‘To be interred in by our Fate— We dead ones in the bunkers lie. for such as I You bet we and that’s no kid; Zach nine—I slip it to you straight — hed so often to my lid I'm I'm bunkered in quadruplicate And there inhumed both early, late, So long that I am like to die Ere I my shape may extricat: We dead ones in the bunkers lie. A pyramid? J peer amid Such traps as Cheops could not mate If he had done more than he did To bury his poor, mummied pate; And there I stick and objurgate In my deep tomb, howe'er I try My radio to elevate We dead ones in the bunkers lie. L’Envoi Ye miners, we have got the gate And bade farewell to yonder sk; While hades we investigate— We dead ones in the bunkers lie.