Judge — March 24, 1923 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

Mabel—Got your eye on a car, eh? is it? Sue—An F.O.B. Detroit, I think the salesman said. The Fount of Wisdom by Walt Mayon man. sits, his grouch on nd shakes his head and The young are hitting up a too swift,” he cries, While they are young and sound and hale they Should’ not paint the town; they're spending coin for ginger ale that should be salted down. They're blowing wealth for lemon pop that should be in the bank, and when I say this waste should stop, men say Tama crank. But T have lived for eighty years, and this is truth, I say, that money spent for Vol- stead beers is money thrown away.” I wonder why we always think that ancient men are wise? We listen to the wintry gink with beard of haystack size; he may not have blue prints to show that he’s been a success; perhaps the things he claims to know are founded on a guess; but he has lived for eighty years, or me be ninety-two, and so his line of bunk appears a lead pipe cinch to you. And he has whiskers three feet long, his scalp is bald and red, so you discover wisdom strong in everything he’s said. HE old straight, sighs: gait that's: much HE wisdom of the ancient man from i ; he follows up one ss plan—he knocks all modern Upon a happy world he looks, youth skip along, and cries, “Ods bodikins! Gadzooks! Whatever is wrong! Things were not thus when I was young, we drank no lemon sour, we went to Sabbath school and sung Old Hundred by the hour. We did not tread the great the hay and woke up feeling fine. We did not go to movie shows, or other shows, b’gosh; we read some books of E. ae Roe’s, or T. S. Arthur's tosh. Sometime sa wholesome spelling bee would draw us from our homes, or we would read, while drinking tea, a lot of moral pomes. And though in glee the bright hours sped, we never stayed up | we were at home and safe in bed, what time the clocks struck eight.” And this is wis- dom when it comes from some ancestral jay, who has no teeth along his gums, beard is wide and gray. whose What make HE springald says, ‘‘While ambol in the su six or nine, I won't know what is fun, While I am full of youthful. pep, I'll make my motor choo; while I control a buoyant step, I'll dance the long night through. T'lldip in pleasure gay and weird, and think such conduct wise: and when I long te beard T'll sit and morali This is true wisdom, though the old will say it is a sin; the patriarchs will rise and scold, and make a fearful din. For they would have the young man be as decorous and staid as though his age were eighty-three, or ninety in the shade. They'd have the young man haunt the kirks, and cut out all delights, and sit up reading Bunyan’s works through all the winter nights. The damsel of the starry glance they'd dress in dowdy frocks, and have her mending father’s pants when she’s not knitting socks. The wisdom of the young, I say, beats that of ancient men; “Let us be jubilant and ga they ery, and dance again, ere The Parting (Continued from page 5 n!” There di in his t gladness, d his face was radiant aa he whispered: n, I'm going to kiss you—but not good-by.” 1 (As it really happens) Hope you won't be lonesome to- night.” youth is mine, Tl for when I'm eight “Don't flatter yourself. I won't be.” “I might give a little advice befo; Igo. W ting now but don’t get the divor in your head beeaus I won't consider it for a moment 1 you'd stand a hell of a chance getting on if I contested it.” “Humph, make your mind e: The only good a divorce would do me would hv to permit me to marry again, and I'm not exactly a bear for punishment. I've had enough of men for the—” “Glad to hear it. Hope you don't change your mind. Well, good-by.”” wod-by. Don’t forget to send my regularly.” » danger of my forgetting that. If I did you could sue for divorce on the grounds of desertion, I> suppose you lize that is the only on Til send it rtainly, To realize it. But you worry—as_ lc get the Well, good oble, generous woman! third time you've said ven's sake get out and Phat’s the good-by. For he leave me in peace Pala Six-year-old Mary—Mamma, where can I trade my rabbit for a cat? Mother—What makes you trade, dear? “Well, I want something with a handle on it.” want to se Bilson—Well, as Grandfather used to say, “The Lord. will Mrs. always provi Mr. Bilson—But service is generally @ la carte. the not I've noticed a la cafeteria, sae Minister—I hope to see you in church next Sunday. Parishioner—You will. a new hat and coat. My wife’s got Drawn by R. 3. Houwcnes IN THAT CASTLE ON THE RIVER RHINE That’s what I’d call the original one- man tank. Eh! Buddy!