Life — August 1, 1912 — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

PENNSYLVANIA, RAILROAD Progressive Travel The Pennsylvania Railroad stands for Progress. The ‘*Pennsylvania Special” is the train for all progressives. The traveler on the “Special"’ wastes no time. It covers the 908 miles between New York and Chicago at night —be- tween business hours. The “Special” leads in speed, com- fort, and convenience as the Penn- sylvania Railroad has ever led in all that pertains to railway transpor- tation, Ly. New York (Penna, Station) - 4.00 P. M. Ly. New York (Hudson Terminal) - 3.55 P.M. Ar. Chicago - - + B55 AM, RETURNING Ly. Chicago - - 2.45 P.M. Ar. New York 9.40 A.M. Memory glorifies “old times” because we look back on youth. For this toast your lass should be filled Old Overholt Rye *‘Same for 100 years** Mellow as old re- collections — Fragrant as “the rose of yester- day.” Distilled and bot- tled in bond by A. Overholt & Co, Pittsburgh, Pa. EREE A Society Wander-Song This quict life is beastly dull, I'm getting quite blasé from it, I wish I were a blooming gull, I'd quickly fly away from it. For in my heart there is a flame A longing rawther hot, you know, To plunge into this wander-game And—all that bally rot, you know. I'm greatly bored with clubs and such, I'm sick of smart society, I'm yearning pretty blawsted much For change and for varicty. I feel a throbbing in my ve That makes me wish to trot, Across the hills, across the pla And—all that bally rot, you know. To be a gipsy would, I'm sure, Affect me rawther piquantly, + Although I understand they're poor And wash themselves infrequently. Or I could sail the open sea (It’s really done a lot, you know), Where I could be ative and rree And—all that bally rot, you know. Ah, yes, the fever’s in my blood, The lust to leave is stirring me, But beastly heat or cold or mud Or wind keep on deterring me. The weather will not let me start, It chains me to the spot, you ‘know, But, ah! The dream that’s in my heart And—all that bally rot, you know! BB. Horace Traubel Telephones Hello, central ! Hello, central! and the answer came back: Along the mysterious wire traveled the voice of the invisible to the car of the unseen: ‘The woman there, to me the man, here, asking, What do you want! I, grown accustomed to it, not com- prehending the miracle in which I played a part: ‘ What do you want? The words hur- ried me out of my dream. What do you want? What did I want? I wanted religion; 1 said so. Give me religion. And I waited, hearing the click and buzz of strange sounds; feeling the sting of the current flowing across. Give me religion, I said, and then it came. I am religion, it said. And I asked my questions; they were the questions of my heart, but they went unanswered. Tt was not religion answering. It was theology; it was a creed. I heard the mumbled prayers of a priest. Hello, central! I cried; you've given me the wrong number. ‘I wanted re- ligion; you've given me the church. I called up information, What's re- ligion’s number? I asked. Information said: I don't know any- thing about religion; I only know the church. Was I to despair? Was I to sit down and ery myself sick? Where was re- ligion?—The Conservator, 1536 Good Pictures Low Prices for Summer Homes Cope, Life Pub A DESPERATE Canny Photogravure, 20 x 15 in., $1.00 Cope, Life Pets. Co, ANYWAY, WEIRD ALONE” Photogravure, 20 x 15 in., $1.00 Cope. Lite Pub. Co “WORKING TO BRAT HELL” Photogravure, 16 x 1344 in., 50 cents Sent prepaid upon receipt of remittance LIFE PUBLISHING COMPANY 17 West gist Street New York comicbooliee "