Judge — June 30, 1923 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

DASALOVLLE__ Camille (indignantly)—I can’t compete with your coughing! INTO ALL LIVES, ETC. o-pay T donned the brand new suit T bought at Bulg store; I felt that IT was looking cute, more sightly than before. Oh, gorgeous. r: are splendid things to boost one’s. self- respect; you feel that you might walk with kings when you are thus bedecked. In winter time I do not care how seedy T appear: most any duds will do to wear when wintry storms are here. A collar of Byronie roll seems foolish on a scout who has to carry in the coal, and pack the ashes out. But when the spring arrives [ go to Bulger’s teeming mart, and there my hard earned coin I blow for clothes that break the heart. I am inde noble sight when in my spring ari doenvy jars full ma wight who sees me go my wa merchant princes look me their conclusions draw, and I am told By Walt Mason that in each store my credit has no flaw. Toes domed my princely suit and dd the village street, and far you'd search for a galoot who looked more smooth and ne; I ambled west, I journeyed east, that all men might behold, my whiskers pruned, my trousers creased, [looked Then in the park I sat me down to rest a little while, for I had covered all the town, had paced full many i And gentle slumber closed my ds while I snored a few, big storm clouds covered all the skies that lately were so blue. Then rain disturbed my healthful rest, the village was afloat; rain washed the colors from my vest, and spoiled my pants and coat. I wonder why such ills befall the hap- sons of men? It hadn't ra 13 less for weeks at all, it will not rain again. The gods, who dwell upon the slopes above the highest: snows, seem bent on chilling human hopes, and spoiling suits of clothes. The are down on human pride, and when we chesty grow, by unseen hands the hook’s applied, and we are sunk in woe. Just) when we think we're stacking high, and cutting lots of ice, the gods let bolts of thunder fly—and one bolt will suffice. novcut myself a shining car, all painted gold and green, the noblest chugmobile by far that burned gasoline. When it was mine a week or more, I said: “I'll give a ride to all that Johnson bunch next door, and quell their misfit pride.” ‘The Johnsons had a costly bus, and they would often grin, (Continued on page 32) comicbooks.com