Judge — April 7, 1923 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

in Levick At 18 Green, showing clubhouse—Belleclaire Golf Club, Bayside, Long Island, N. Y. The report that members practice approach shots through the windows of this club is erroneous. TOLD AT THE to9th HOLE architects must be descended of those early pioneers made their living by trapping. +. * The only monuments are those mind and heart. * . * OLF FT from some who everlasting ured by man ed by the meO ws) We string spend our youth ig a necklace of the hours. When it is finished we call it memory, and wear it in our old . * * Off the tee According to stories handed down by slaves who eaddied for him, old King Tut was quite a driver. * ‘ + It must have taken in- credible effort for some persons stupid to become as as they are. * « ‘ On in three Love's a little cannibal, This you must concede him; Lovers at his festiv Give their hearts to feed him. Only those whose hearts are hard Leeve Love's altar quite unscarred. + * & A fool may be office, disguised by robes of but underneath is the same fool. * * * Writing 3 »%k merely is a matter of condensing all other books on the Woman's tears are the sea whe man is shipwrecked. * . * An anonymous letter is one which is unwept, un- honored and unsigned. * * * Such is fate Winter is the season when a sunbeam is appraised at its full value. by Walter Trumbull E was still young, although there were streaks of gray in the hair about his temples. Slowly the shadows of twilight blotted out the farther corners of the room, but there was. still light enough from the window beside which he sat for him to continue his work. List- lessly he was clearing the papers from an old ‘desk. There are few occupations which more sharply reach to strum the chords of memo There was a folded bit of paper in the back of a drawer. He reached for it and held it. The man sat up- right. With trembling hands he unfolded the paper—stained by the low fingers of time. nin and again he read it, until night threw her dark mantle between him and the words which his eyes strained to see. He face in the darkness, as if he yet could catch the f nee of a dead and gone bouquet. Then, with a bitter groan, he crumpled it and threw it from him. It was a wine list, with prices attached, of ten years before. + * +* J In in eight held it to his When left alone his ignorance Of household matters was absurd; They say the poor nut fed the plants And watered the canary bird. im the world is round,” Tow do you “Hm, so you said the skeptical one. know that it is not square?” “Because I have had too many deal- ings with it,” replied P % the other, grimly. Jones—My ancestors came over on the May- Smith—Mine couldn't come, they had to at- tend King Tutank- hamen’s funeral. iN A bad slice WE venany friends who sit and shower Praise on home cooking, by the hour. Well, let them have as and ham reals and their grandma's But we are just the sort of bloke Who likes a nifty artichoke, Or would bestow a bit of pri On filet, with a sauce bearng We know a home cooked prune is nice, But we'll take caviar, in ice; Soup mac But give us potage belle Fontaine; While home folks open oysters well We like ours best without the shell; ‘Though codfish balls may healthful | We'd much prefer sole Marguery ‘The fine old man is dead and gone, But still his sole goes marching on; Rice pudding’s wholesome But pass us a méringu When we can get the We'll linger there and cease to roam. * + * Isn't nice m bones we don’t disd in its way, hings at home N the spring! In the spring! That is when the birdies sing And the golfer tries his swing; Tries the swing which he’s expected He will find he has perfected, To reduce his former score. By his practice on the floc Sven though his wife objected; aid the parlor was unfitted For such work, and he half-witted; Said such things in accents sore, Just because it need he busted Useless bric-a-h she dusted— Only this and nothing moi But he finds old habits ¢ The perfected, indoor swing, No more birdie es than before, And he roars the si old roar, Damning golf and everything, In the spring, in the spring. comicbooks.com