Judge — January 27, 1923 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

They Beat Me to It by Walt Mason I‘ had ambitions high and fine, I hoped to reach the heights majestic, and gather badges that would shine, and laurels foreign and domestic. At school, when Christmas cam teachers gave out many pri gaudy books -f deathless song,’and helpful in divers guises. And I would say. By hook or crook I’il win myself a pri beshrew. it; I'll gather in -pound book—” but some one always beat me to it. For while I framed my solemn vows, and lingered o’er them, much admiring, some other boys with bulging brows would study, study, never tiring; while I ima, at I'd do when that fine book was in my keeping, the others put their lessons through, and copped the prize and left me weeping. Ears afterwards I loved a maid who was a daisy, strictly speaking; she left all others in the shade, when through the village she went streaking. Oh, why describe her pearly hair, her waving teeth and © that glittered? ‘She was so smooth, so passing fair, all other dam- sels were embittered. I would not ask her for her hand, though ardently TI still might court her, until before her I could Adam (on viewing his reflection for first time)—Suffering cats, Eve! Do I look like that? stand prepared to cherish and support her. At last I'd saved a hundred bucks by dint of thrift and stern endeavor; I asked this duckiest of ducks if she would be my forever. She handed me one scornful glance; I was tamed down, and well I knew —some other fel flow beat While I saved up the useful scad, with “Thrift’s a Winner” as motto, the other chap, a sprightly lad, gave hei outing in his auto. He bought her synthetic pop, and took her to the ba ball bleachers, while I was toiling in my shop to pay for wedding rings and preachers. He bought her priceless sticks of gum, and praised her while he watched her chew it; he knocked my plans all out of plumb, and while I # dreamed he beat me to it. I sarp, “I'll write a noble book of ancient times nights i in armor, in which the hero 200k,” while ning a female charmer. esurrect th phere of bygone times, their saints and sinners, and make the folk of yesteryear seem less like ghosts and more li i ners.” I studied long and dusty tomes, all full of bunk and weird digressions, and learned to write of halidames, and ring in weather-worn expressions. When to the publishers at last my bale of manu- script I carted they wrung their hands and stood aghast, and said, “Your rival’ just departed. We bought from him a knightly book—here is his junk, if you would view it; "tis full of ‘odsfish’ and ‘gadzook’ "—once more another beat me to it. Thus all my life I’ve been too late, sometimes a year, sometimes a minute; I dream of wealth and fame and state, and wake to find there’s nothing in it. There is a road that men ascend, and lovely maids with flowers bestrew it, but when I would that pathway wend, the other fellows beat me to it. [- 77 MEET MR DUMDUM WHO WAS GETTING A_DOLLAR A WEEK FROM A SPENDTHRIET HE SUBSCRIBED FOR A SET OF THE FERTILIZE YOUR BEAN ’BOOKY > ( Swan ILL WHICH SO EMBOLDENED HIM How ABouT A LITTLE -EH- un-Raise? THAT HE ASKED FOR A RAISE-AND Culture-by-coupon—Others have done it, why can’t you? 21