Judge — May 26, 1928 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE Translated from Merlin’s Memoirs By Dr. Theophrastus Seuss SIR PARCHESI’S VOW HEN Sir Parchesi was a stripling, his olde man one day tooke him aside. “Mine son,” spake he, with tear-droppes in his eyes, ‘when I was young I hade a brilliant future, but (lak-a-day) I never did succeed. “Ye stripling tooke a vow” The trouble was mine face was far too handsome, and ye wimmen dragged me down.” And saying so, the father made his son give oath that he would give his life to slaying foe, and never would he taste @ maiden’s lips. And later, when Parchesi had attained his fulle growth, his father had his tailor build a suit of ar- mour round the lad. It was of three-fold thickness, and they locked the locks and threw away the keys. was designed so nothing but Parchesi’s nose protruded. "Now he is safe from hotte babes,” the father said. “And he will wax successful.” Thus locked in tight, the lad passed many years. He won his spurs and soon be- came the greatest knight that e’er did wield a sword. He fought with so much vigor that he knew no Freudian desires, and he did never wish to stalk a wench. But then there came a time when all the foes were conquered; the lad was forced to lay off work. I: quiet Camelot Parchesi grew most restless, and he did forsooth wander list- lessly about the woods. The helmet "I feel so very strange,” mused he one day, while he was strolling with his squire. "I know that something is quite lacking in mine life, yet what it is I cannot say!” "Can it be love?” did chirp a pretty voice from out a thicket. Parchesi wheeled about to see a lovely blonden maiden smiling at him ... and then, at last, he knew he was a man! “Oh! Oath be damned!” he roared. And call- ing to his squire he spake, “Quick, boy! and ride post haste to town and fetch a plummer. For he must get mine bean out of this can so I might pet this maid!” And off the squire did race to town. While he was gone the maid did kiss Parchesi’s manly nose, for there was nothing else to do. At last the anxious lovers heard the clattering of hoofs. With foaming steed, the breathless plummer had arrived! “Quick, fellow!” begged the ardent red hotte knight. "Oh rip this cursed helmet off mine caged-in dome!” The plummer hung his head. “I would, alack,” quoth he with shame, “but I cannot. I have forgot mine tools.” And thus did Sir Parchesi keep his vow. cleome clattering comicbooks.com