Judge — March 17, 1923 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

SOME SENSE TO SAMBO Mrs. Jackson—Say, Mis’ Johnsing, did Sambo give Celestine a ring foh bein’ engaged? Mrs. Johnson—No, Mis’ Jackson, he done bettuh ’n dat; he gave huh a engagement wringer. This Wicked World HERE are so many grievous sins— and everyone of them is twins— I wail and tear my hair; this world is on the downward grade, and all things righteous wilt and fade, and I am in despair. I am the super-moralist, the only saintly man, I wist, who in this world remains, and I am weeping all the time, for all around me sin and crime have left their bitter stains. There is no modesty on earth, no virtue and no sterling worth, or I have missed my guess; once virtue reigned in all our coops, but all the saints have looped the loops, and I am in distress, Down where the ocean rolls and swirls I sit and watch the bathing girls, and wring my hands and pray; their legs and bosoms I behold—what wonder that blood grows cold, that I rear up and I'm glad my grandma isn’t here, m glad she’s reached a brighter sphere, where bathing is unknown; if she could see these dam float without an ample petticoat, she’d swoon, I'll bet a bone. I sEE these damsels dive and swim, all naked in their every limb, and each 3. who'll comfort, then, the moral toff? Where does the saintly man get off? Where does the prude head in? Oh, maiden fair, oh, blooming if you must prance along the some clothes would be the you'd make a hit with every male if you one wears a gi by Walt Mason would wear your farthingale, and also gloves and muff. Not only to the bathing beach do all th punk conditions reach, you see them on the street; the dr are so short these days that girls display, to passing jays, their calves as well as feet. My grandma wore a long black gown that gathered all the trash in town, dead cats, old shoes and leaves; and if she looks from regions fair to see the duds our daughters wear, no doubt she sighs and _grieves. maiden’s ankle: and shins inspire all men to d ; to courses vain and dire; and when I see a sight like that I wreck the clock and shoot the cat and set the barn afire. [* HAPPY that my grandma died ere she could see this country slide to where we find it now; oh, she was spared these frightful times; she sits, remote from modern crimes, a crown upon her brow. With golden needles now she knits, and she would throw all kinds of fits if summoned back to earth, to note the grave of modesty, to find truth butchered and to see the doom of simple worth. The world was better in my youth; then we all thirsted for the truth, as moderns thirst for pop; a lecture course appealed to us far more than any actor cuss in yonder movie shop. We went to suppers at the church, and for an oyster we would search amid a sea of 12 soup; or, for amusement rather rough we'd play a game of Blind Man’s Buff. with merry jest and whoop. Ah me, those grand old times are sped, and all the saints but me are dead, and I am far from well; and when I’m gone will virtue croak? Will every precept be a joke? Will merit know its knell? sae Submitted at the Horizontal Rate by Edwina Davis The quatrain really doesn’t pay When rated by the line, Unless the editors allow It vertical like mine. sas A married man is merely a husband, but a bridegroom is a husband who helps wipe the dishes.