Judge — June 1935 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

Judge Lines by a Woman In a Hurry Y MOTHER was a lady. I was M brought up in the South. When I was born, a silver spoon was put into my mouth. My baby-carriage was the best that could be purchased there, And later in a pony-cart I used to take the air. I drove in a victoria when I was in my teens, When I grew up, I rode around in foreign limousines. But now I travel on the El. though it’s far from jolly, From time to time I’m forced to take the Fifty-ninth Street trolley. and I dive down into subway trains as deep as any crater And hold my breath as I ascend upon the escalator. I lose my balance and my hat, and heated are my cusses As I cling wildly to a strap in modern New York buses. So when I hear my friends discuss in cultivated voices Just how to get from here to there in Lincolns or Rolls-Royces. I realize that Fate at times can be most awfully fickle, For I, no matter where I go, must get there for a nickel. —Rvetn Roperts. u Ray Me Ge___ “Two Dry Martinis.” AKE care of the pennies and the dollars will take care of them- selves. Don’t take care of either and the government will take care of you. And our present government might be called a “Long”-suffering admi tration. “He’s a fatalist!” 19 Summer’s Here Y ir, summer's here, Auto camp proprietors are hardening up the cot mattresses for the tourist trade; rumble seats are opening up and filling with poor relations; gas station maps are growing bigger and putting on weight; summer resorts are taking down the shutters and putting up the prices; bathing beauties are edging Mussolini out of the rotogravure sec- tions; and this year’s crop of college graduates are waiting for friends to let them know when an opening curs. Yes, there’s no doubt about it, sum- mer is here. JR ancestors put their faith in Providence but kept their pow- Nowadays their descendants table gardens but keep the opener handy. “Why do you call that a Crosby Cocktail?” “One drink and ‘Bing’ !” We can understand how these men with tin cups and pencils became blind. They tried“to read what they had written with the pencils. comicbooks.com