Judge — July 28, 1923 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

Boy with umbrella—Any place Under the South Sea shine Moon- (Continued from page 3) usual assortment of medicine men, with doctors, cannibal chiefs, head hunters and so on.” “Yes, certainly,” the chief replied. “And then there is a little dance I in vented myself that is distinctly original. I call it the Nineteen Days Dance of Death. The costumes are remarkably y. They would frighten a three- year-old child completely out of its wits. In fact, I have forbidden the children of our island. to it. Would you care to see it?” “Yes, I'll take that,” I said, jotting down the name of the dance. “And what have you in the way of a war dance? My people back in little old witness in the city for a quarter, lady! ew York want all the snappy dances [ can get.” He smiled tolerantly. “You have come to the right place.” He pressed a button. A native lad appeared. “Booboo,” he commanded, run upstairs and in the third drawer in my desk on the left hand side, bring down. those stills of the war dances we have in stock.” The boy left us and soon returned with an armful of photo- graphs. “How up are those for high?” the chief asked after I had glanced through them. “Ever anything to beat *em?” “Hot dog!” T eri This will make ’em sit up in their seats.” After a ride over the island in’ the chief's Ford we came back to the royal residence, where we had dinner. Not so bad, either, considering the distance sec 6 of Opoloso from Broadway—three thou- sand mil for you see that the Island of Opoloso, as I neglected to mention in the first place, is in lower California, where we take the best South Sea Island pictures in the world, bar none. tae How Games Have Changed by Stanley Rauk [* 2a%s of the cighties a girl was a sport Who could whitewash a guy on a croquet court. For reckless amusement she just would adore Playing musical parlor floor. Oh, where are the games that our Ma used to play? They're up in the attic packed far, far away. chairs on the front A popular damsel would never forget To pull out the ping pong and put up the net And then “Jenkins Up” was an evening’s delight noise and_ excitement half the night. Oh, where are the games that our Ma used to play? With camphor and all packed away. The would last mothballs they're At evening time a young girl's greatest joy— A game of parchesi with any nice boy; For wildest diversion was nothing’ as much As four-handed lotto with two cards to watch. Oh, where are the games that our Ma used to play? They're up in the attic packed far, far away. There's no way of winning the games they play now, You don’t need to teach any company how. Turn on the victrola and turn down the light Your conscience will guide you and might will make right. You'll be tickled to death that what Ma used to y Is up in the attic ay and all packed away. sae The day was breezy and so was the y or may not be married,” ght-seer, “but she certainly tas Ford probably wants to become Presi- dent so that he can recognize Russia, join the League of Nations and open up the European flivver market generally. tae The best way to create a formidable opposition to Mr. Ford would be to nominate either Mr. Pierce-Arrow or Mr. Packard. comicbooks.com