Judge — November 1933 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

l } Judg Mustress Pepys’ Journa By Baird Leonard OOPERSTOWN, Y., October 1.—Looking out at the weather betimes, and thanking Wd that the downpour gave promise of continuing throughout the day, forasmuch as my cronies at the bridge table would be un- able to gaze out windows and reproach themselves for not taking advantage of the marvelous sunshine. My own pref- erence for the indoors does amount al- most to a mania, so that I can no more comprehend the ex-Kaiser’s insistence on a place in the sun than I can grasp Wordsworth’s statement that there is nc weather soever that it is not better to be out in than in out of, 1 I do think the latter was served rightly when Max Beerbohm cartooned him tramping through the Lake district under an um- brella. Nor does this predilection for shelter bespeak an indifference to the glories and beauties of nature, neither. For, albeit when exhibitionism is afoot I had liefer be shown the stables than the garden, and albeit I do consider birds fatuous and bees catastrophic, I must confess that the autumn splendor of the hillsides across the Susquehanna is more satisfactory as an outlook than my urban view of Long Island City be- yond the East River. The meanest flower that blows does never give me thoughts which lie too deep for tears, but pink roses in a crystal vase are effective in lifting my spirit as certain fragments of the Te Deum. And so to a downstairs pee with my scriven- ing materials, where a sonnet once wrote jor The Atlantic Monthly by Mistress E. K. Adams. ormer instructor of mine, unaccountably popped into my and I set it down herewith: =D this year, thovgh still I pse the sun. For, watch old Dwindle and dim and lapse into the cold With neither joy nor sorrow to have done, I too have come to think the thoughts of one Whom no ties bind and no regrets can hold, Who has felt the ultimate change, and so must fold Hands void of haste and feet forg run. ng one by one lives frail and t to The Veteran Yet Death rends not in twain the veil of things So, Lazarus-like, 1 watch the sunlight fall On children at their play the Spring’: Shy incenses, and hear the thrushes cal Finding them every one—hearts, pet athe deep wings— Curious, lovely, immaterial. But even such beauty and economy of expression has not yet brought me to the triumph over futility which I do hope some day to achieve, so after finishing my stint I did ascend to my dressing-table and worked with a color- ing pencil until the luncheon gong on the white patch over my left temple which has been growing aj college days. ce since my —All a-twitter this over two items in the journals which do bid fair to revolu- tionize my existence, the one heralding the instal n of pockets in evening gowns being especially grateful, for often Iam some pains to respond sensi- bly to my dinner partner’s conversation through concern that my brocade bag may slide from my lap, forasmuch as I have not yet, like many intrepid women, reached a point where I do feel that it would add to prearranged table decora- tions. The discovery of a water-proof- ing liquid is also glad news for everyone save the manufacturers of dress shields, great company for luncheon, was served puff-ball, the most delight- (Page 26, please) comicbooks.com