Judge — July 21, 1923 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

First Waitress—The old boy you just waited on is certainly accommo- dating. He meets his soup half way. Second Waitress—Well, he ordered duck soup. ry A Plea for the Old-timer N’r pierce him with a bayonet Because he loves to blast The players of to-day. Ab, let Him revel in the past. Aye, let him, though he be a pest, Declaim, with tearful eye, Of Brouthers, Rusie and the rest Who starred in days gone by. And as the sobs his being rack, Remember, please, that you Yes, You and I some day, alack, Will be old-timers too. And, braving younger people's jokes, Who'll say we lie, forsooth, We'll gamely strive to awe these folks With tales of Cobb and Ruth. And when they mock these memories real, As young men like to do, It’s not at all unlikely we'll Shed quarts of tear drops too. NCE we thought we had him. We had asked him to name an ancient who could match George Sisler’s record of batting safely in forty-one consecutive games. For a moment The Old-timer was stumped. He scratched his head. Then he wrinkled up his brow and thought so hard you could see his brain cells operating. “‘Let’s see,” he mur- mured, as he stared into space, “was it in 1892 or 1893—no, it must have been . I remember now! In 1894 hlen hit safely in forty-two games we shricked. This was more than we could endure. Even if the old geezer was right—and, alas, he was!—he had no business rubbing it in like that. It was inhuman, cruel. “And what is more,” he continued with ‘malicious joy, ‘it just occurs to me that in 1896—no, it was 1897— Willie Keeler hit safely in forty-four games. And now good-by! I hope you choke!” He was making his departure. This would never do! His victory was too one-sided. He had to be handed a jolt— that was all there was to it. We ran after him. What could we shout to floor him? Ha! An inspiration. “Hey, you big stiff!” we yelled, as abusively as “— Pee Laundries are like chauffeurs — non-existent until they annoy. Give a good chauffeur a Rolls-Royce, and any laundry the VAN HEUSEN. VAN HEUSEN the Worlds Smartest COLLAR PHILLIPS-JONES conronarion (Y 1225 BROADWAY, NEW YORK we knew how, “name an old-timer who hit fifty-nine homers in one season. That’s what Ruth did in 1921, you dumb slob! Match that if you can! The Old-timer stopped. Again wrin- kles formed on his forehead ashe ched his head and thought. But his hard thinking was of no use this time. A dark scowl spread over his count nance. “That don’t prove, nothin’,” he said; but his voice lacked conviction. When Cupid is through with a Mormon. 27 “How do you get that way?” we jecred. For a moment he hesitated, then he said, not very happily: “Well, [guess Ruth has got the home run record but, gosh, with them short fences they got these days—” “M. we derisively bleated as The Old-timer’s goat eseaped. “Go to hell!” he replied, even: more peeved than we had been. We went home happy. a ninth-inning victory. We had won se The Impossible Jones (Continued from page 17) and shooting pains that stab and dart along your poisoned back.” “IT may have rotten thews and bones,” I say, in my despair, “but worse than that, I have my Jones, who ta everywhere. I tell thee, Jone go too far, some inauspicious da I, with clubs or paving stones slay, and slay, and slay.” But little do I gain, ala oy bidding him aroint; he sees me when I'm buy- ing gas at John D.’s filling joint. I see,” says Jones, “you're blowing in all kinds of useful dough, to buy a lot of low test gin to make your flivver go. Yow let us figure on this wall how high your pile would be, if you had saved and hoarded all you’ve spent with old John D.” tat Atevery beach it’s thesamestory: The men come, they see and they’re conquered.