Judge — September 8, 1923 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

Diary of a Fiancée by Cyril B. Egan MBER 9.—O, dear!—To-night I wccepted Billy. How could [ help it?—He looked so handsome.—Also_ he has promised to go to work. “I can find work,” he said, his eyes flashing fire— “honest work to do with my hands!” December 15.—Hurrah, Billy has found work!—Only he won't tell me what it is. Isn't that mysterious? January 1.—Billy here to-night. Not so handsome. He has a black eye. “Naughty boy,” L asked, “what are you doing?” Billy only smiled, and said he was earning lots of money. Janu 8.—Billy here to-night. His looked dreadful, as if some one had tried to spread it over his. face. Naughty boy.” T chided, “what have you been doing?” Billy only smiled, and said he would soon have enough earned for us to go housekeeping. February 15.—I declare, I'm falling out of love with Billy. To-night his lips were swollen as if he had tried to kiss a whole swarm of hornets. I was going to tell him he needn't come any more, but he looked so pleased and contented. it seemed a shame to spoil his dream of happiness. What can the boy be doing? March 15.—Well, the cat jumped out of the bag to-night. Gracious, what a night! Billy came in with his ears mashed toa pulp. He looked positively homely. So I told him it was all off; which was fair enough, for hadn't I en- gaged myself to him on account of his good looks?—Then he broke down and told me everything; how he had gone and become a prize fighter for my sake, and that he didn’t want to tell me about it until he had made good, and now he had made good and was going to get $50,000 for his share of the next fight, and he nose xs \) + 6. | Drawn by G. F. CALLAHAN. QPON STARTING A WALKING TOUR---- You WILL FIND The Walking Tour. was going to throw him down, and— Well, the poor boy looked so sad and lonesome when he spoke about the $50,000, that I just couldn't bear it—it just went straight to my woman’s heart; to—O, dear—it’s all on again, and wo're so be spliced in the fall! Isn't life the drollest, upsiest-downsiest thing? ttt “Sure you can find freezing weather five miles from where we stand.” “Gwan.” “If you go straight up.” Paral “Are you marrying him for love?” “Well, that’s one of the things I want.” Dirty work at the crossroads. Silence! by Harvey J. Duncka I’ MAN or beast the slightest noise Upon the links should utter, Doc. Brown was apt to lose his poise And crown him with a putter. For Doc. would never ta stroke Till sound had died aw Nor would he ever take ke Upon his style of play. There was no friend of his that knew That Doc. would be so pleased When, as his driver downward flew, A luckless caddied sneezed! It made the Doctor raise his head, And spoiled his perfect stance The lookers-on all sighed and said That caddie had no chance. It wrecked Doe.’s form beyond repair, And yet he hit it clean, The peilet hurried through the air ‘And landed on the green. Doc.’s game gets better every day; That sneeze was priceless stuff, And now before he drives, they say, He gives his caddie snuff! comicbooks.com