Judge — May 29, 1926 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

-——————_- Facts and Fiction ., » It iscam interestingvatory; well written, and containing a wealth of color and human emotion. But it teaches nothing. From a bool: review ina New York: newspaper. ‘ANDING there, their faces turned toward the setting sun, they made a glorious picture. She, with her Grecian profile, might well have been a_ statue carved by the master hand of Praxi- of the greatest of the Greek sculptors, who lived in Athens in the Fourth Century B.C. Her companion was a man of slender figure. His skull was Paleo- lithic, with an alveolocondylean plane verging toward the early Brobding- and Brontosaurian. ling,” he breathed, “I have something to tell you—but first let me ask if you know the name of the capital of i “Of course. e answered softly. “It is F as musing over the beauties of the ‘Elegy Written In a Country Churchyard,’ which is the work of Thomas Gray, an English poet, born in Cornhill, London, December 26, 1716, and who died at Cambridge on the thir- tieth day of Jul, 1 “Ah, you Ii he. Ele he cried ecstatically. “I think that teles, one isthon 1—Some day we hope to 4—The light footed toe- dancer— Herself so confidently 8 JUDGE Forget his act -Into his arms— fy »* ~ & DONT SHOOT, Qe fra/ LY); CLARA, SAID DESNOND QUICKLY 1 SHALL, TELL-YOU ALL Pretty Gree to Cuaru —Charley, how far ix it around the world? Cuarces (who adores pretty girl, putting his arm around her waist) Only about twenty-four inches, my love! Underwear” “Underwear my baby is to-night?” 2—The strong-arm @s- thetic man— 6—And when — she throws— 9—Fail to catch her. She was all the world to him, you see. poetry, next to deep sea diving, is the breath of life itself. gem of verse which sings in my brain throughout the day, and I would that I knew the name of the poem which gave it birth: There is one ‘In virtues nothing earthly could surpass her, Save thine “incomparable oil,” Ma- “Oh, you dear old goose,” laughed the girl. ut quotation is from Byron’s ‘Don Juan,’ Canto 1, Stanza 17. Anyone knows that.”” You dearest,” he — exclaimed. “What better time than now to tell you that I lov—but no, I must first inform you of the population of Khelat, Baluchistan. “Twelve thousand, which figure will, of changed by the new census to be taken in 1938,” she interposed with a roguish twinkle in her eye. “But I had something to “Some othe ® she said, urging gently away is the w your train! Gonow! Adieu, French say in parting, the word being roughly pronounced ‘ad-jer,’ with the accent on the ‘ Adieu, Henry.” “Ad-jer, Clara. 1912 census, course, be E. B. Crosswhite comicbooks.com