Judge — November 15, 1924 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

Dog Gone War* A War Play Written with the Censors in Mind by Don Herold CAST Cartan Frain First SerGeant ANEMIC Corporat Deiicate Mrs. Dextcate, his mother Rosesup Pepp, a girl cheer leader from the War Department Other Soldiers. Week-end Visitors. Dilettantes. Débutan Brides- maids. Missionaries, Ete. CENE: One of the worst sections of the Western Front during one of the most annoying weeks of the World War. Captain Frail is arrang- ing flowers in a vase and singing “Good Morning, Merry Sunshine.” Anemic is blowing soap bubbles. Delicate is blowing up rubber balloons until they burst. Waste paper bor with sign “Keep Your City Clean.” Anemic—I wish this dog gonned war would end. Frail—Strong words, Sergeant Anemic. Anemic—Well, if this war lasts another ten years, I think I will scream. Delicate (to his mother)—Mother, don’t you ever get tired of the war? Mrs. Delicate—Yes, it does get monotonous. But I would rather be here with you than at home, Junior. And you are so hard on your sox. Delicate—I guess I had better wind the clock. Frail—One of the boys had to go home with a Charley horse, so you might tell the milkman to leave only nine bottles of milk in the morning, Anemic. Delicate, don’t you think we had better have a little action? Take a few shots at the enemy. Give them the cold gutta-percha, Delicate. (Delicate brings out golf bag and tees ball.) Delicate—Fore! (Looks after ball.) Oh, shoot, I missed him! Drat it! Confound it! I missed him! Frail—Control yourself, Delicate! I saw you raise your head. You can’t get over that. Now replace the divot. We can’t have the place all torn up. You don't follow through, my boy. Delicate—I got through the last war in bogy. “Nora—where’s baby?” —- — Anemic—All this unnecessary ani- mosity! This continuous pestering of the Germans! And think of the expense of it—the lost golf balls, and rdeners, and the die ns, and All our mothers knitting, knitting, knitting! If Mrs. Delicate and all the other knitters were placed end to end Frail—Anemic, you must not talk about putting the mothers of soldiers end to end. You are apt to get ex- pelled from the war. (Enter Rosesup with a bundle of tags.) Rosebud—Captain Delicate, I am a member of a special committee of girls sent out by the War Depart- ment to sce if we can’t pep up the war. We girls are getting up a special drive against the Germans, an especially hard, convincing, un- mistakable, serious drive against the enemy. We have decided that about next Tuesday morning about nine o'clock would be a good time—if that isn’t getting you boys up too early. Soldiers—Oh, no, no, no, that's not too carly. Rosebud—Now we want every soldier who will take his golf sticks or his bean flipper and go over the top in this nice drive, to show his loyalty to the plan by wearing one of these “LT will” tags in the meantime. The enemy will see these and wonder what is up. It ought to throw them into a terrible state of nerves, so that “F AMM rights reserved by the author. (Continued on page 27) “T don't know, Mam, he was playing on the floor a minute ago.” comicbooks.com