Judge — February 16, 1924 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

Tue Income Tax Season paip my income tax to-day, for nine- I teen-twenty-three; and now [shoo all men away who'd talk of joy to me. Perhaps when weeks have rolled and Vl be in my Ford. along my soul will be restore caroling a song while flivvin Tt may be when the summer comes il shake off my despair, and cease to gnash | | my toothless gums, and rend my sorrel | Butit is vain to speak to-day of any cheerful things: jay who chortles while he sings. T have small use for any Some day again [may Government of ours, and say our eagle's and deck the bird) with good as gold flowers. Our institutions Pll defend as in the days of yore, PI knock the welkin end for end, with patriotic roar. Some day perhaps Dll smile aud jest, forgetting re- cent blows, and say our bulwarks are the But at this writing chaos seems too close for any use; best that any country knows. our warlike cagle cans its screams and looks much like a goose. Our bulwarks fail to ring the bell and Pve a ghastly hunch that in the future they will sell for A boding gloom mny spirit racks. and clouds obscure my seven cents a buneh. sun. for [ve just paid my income tax, which used up all my mon. Ioused to be an optimist: when tem I said. Twill clear and doodle-birds will si pests were aswing soon, Twist, T made a specialty of glee, and to my neighbors said, “Oh, caper on the grass with me, and cut out woe and dread.” When some poor widow lost her cow [to her door would step, and smooth the fur- rows from her brow, and fill her soul with pep. Of optimists L was the chief. and people said, “By Joc, grief, the antidote for woe. The seems bi he is the remedy for world . no voter ht when he appe dares be sad: he soaks up all our surplus tears with his large blotting: pad B" now my neighbors see me sit be- heath my upas tree, and every hour I throw a fit, and sometimes two or three Life's pleasures wane, its sorrows way, there is no bliss in sight, for 1 have paid my income tax—the total was a f Tonce was glad to dig the dimes for any worthy cause; to give the heathen better times, to help out Santa Claus. [dropped my coins in beggars’ cups, and chipped in divers groats to build nice homes for Aire- dale pups and Maltese cats and goats. Whoever passed the hat around received my iron men, I gave a kopeck or a pound, a guilder or a yen. If widows boned me for a plunk T never turned them down; if orphans tried to sell me junk IT handed them a crown. But now men come to me in vain: they find me grim and sore; benevolence gives me a pain, I'm generous no more, T bid the widow buy a tub and wash old clothes. for kale; I tell the orphan he’s a dub who ought to be in jail. When people ask me for a cent to buy the heathen gum, I wildly cuss that foreign gent and say he is uphold this | “What a whale of a difference just a few cents make!” —all the difference ; between just an ordinary cigarette and—FATIMA, the most skillful blend in cigarette history. Aes mA! abum. Some day my fantods will relax and F'll be blithe once more; but Eve just paid my income tax, and my tired heart is Warr Masov. Moons M: country sweetheart sees the moon AVE Rise through her favorite apple tree, And hopes if I should see it, too, Vd think of her, she of me. But how am I to think of her, Or dream of her—poor city bum— When I have got to s Rise from an “ad” ef chewing-gum? the moon was Master—Brown, this is an example in subtraction, Seven boys went down to a pond to bathe, but two of them had been told not to go in the water. Now can you tell how many went in? Brown Pearson's Weekly. seven, Eskimo property-holder clearing his sidewalk, icbooks.com