Judge — September 8, 1923 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

Final phase of the touring impulse. TOURING WITHOUT A TOURING CAR by Edward Anthony F coursk, there is something to be said for touring in a touring car. In fact, it is probably the method. But don’t: overlook the other method, Some of them aren't half bad. We realized this when we ked up The New York Tribune and ad the headline URE OF FINE ‘TO HEARSE SEIZES PAIR; THEY STEAL IT AND GO FOR RIDE.” are worse ways of seeing the country and we can’t help offering the lyrical advice: best If a car you do not own And the fam‘ly would go riding, Do not euss your luck and m That you cannot go a-gliding Down the country roadways where Trilling birdies cares disperse. It is silly to despair; Steal a hearse! “See the U.S. First,” 1 think Is the very best of slogans. Shall you hoof it like a gink, Wearing out your costly brogans? Walking tires the legs and back, I insist it is a curse, So if railway fare you lack, Swipe a hearse! Broad the man who travels much, Unprovincial, full of vision. At the chance to broaden clutch, There's no sense in indecision. If success you would insure You must see universe; And I counsel, if you're poor, Cop a hearse! The Atlantic C wheel chair shouldn't be — re- the “Yes. stricted to the boardwalk; it is an excellent. touring vehicle. As soon as we find a strong, ambitious boy—with lots of push—it is our plan to be shoved across the continent in one of these comfortable yet inexpensive contrap- tions. Every’ time we pass a gasoline station we'll thumb our nose and give our college ery: Keep your dirty gasoline! Keep it even if it’s clean! I don’t n it! Hat hat ha! Wheel chair! wheel chair! rah! rah! rah! And some day, when an enterprising college president asks us to accept the wheel chair of philosophy at his university we'll n a fortune delivering our lecture: “From Coast to Coast in a Grown-up Baby Carriage.” Movies will supplement our talk and rapturous throngs, drinking in our soul-stirring words, will forget all competitive prod- ucts, including the well-known Burton Holmes brew. R' BE Bresster, the pitcher-outfielder of the Cincinnati Reds and one of the most picturesque characters in base- Farmer—Do you do much tourin’? . . I've been half way ‘cross the continent on my spine.” 15 Illustration by Weed ball, is responsible for our affection for the tranquil wheel chair. A few years ago Rube blew us to the most nerve- wracking automobile ride of our life— from Edgewater, N. J., to Camp Merritt. By the time this comparatively short distance was covered we vowed never again to step into a vehicle that traveled any faster than a mule-drawn moving van. We blurred past the Jersey coun- tryside like Halley's comet chased by a cop; and when the speedometer leaped from fifty-five to. sixty-five we looked at Rube with no little concern. re Rube asked. “Nope,” we replied; but our voice lacked conviction. Ve couldn't get it out of our head t a speeding motor-bus, traveling the same snaky road, had dumped its “cargo of human freight,” as the papers say, into aditch only a before. But it wouldn't do to let Rube think we were scared. A pose of gaiety was our only recourse. “Trying to get there before you run out gas?” we asked as the ear leaped forward; but our voice had a hollow sound. It’s difficult to be authentically gay when you expect to be flattened ‘out’ against a telegraph pole minute. “Hul said the Rube by way of reply gave ‘er more We gave it u there’s no sense trying to tell a southpaw anything. They do things their own way and it’s pointless to try to change ’em. McGraw tried to change the lovable but erratic Bugs (Cont. on page 3’) comicbooks.com