Life — June 9, 1927 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

For hot, dry mouth, refresh yourself with the juice of fresh mint leaves in WRIGLEY’S SPEARMINT. nM When in London, call and sce Hobson—tailor to many fa- mous men. A Hobson suit, the logical development of five generations of quali'y tailor- ing, expresses the strength and dignity of a man of position. > PLP SP_ PLP, For 130 years the Hobson family } has been at ©, Gracechurch Strect. Mr. HS. Hobson has written a book, * London's Cradle’ describ- ing the antiquities of Roman and Mediaeval London. This will willingly be sent to you free on application ABAAAABAARAAASDS RAS AAS ESTABLISHED 1796 Five Generations of One Family & GRACECHURCH ST. OF BRAINS. Cortez Aaars \-MADE AT KEY WEST~—— ‘think you'd better gi There's at Least One in Every War Denixe the carly days of the troubles out in the East a good many Britons who knew little of military ‘discipline were pressed into service. On one ocea- sion an infantry colonel passed a certain barricade at which stood a sentry smok- ing a cigar. “Do you know who Tam? asked the officer. The pseud Idier glanced agitatedly at the other's rank badges and shook his head, “I'm Colonel — .." snapped the officer. “Oh, good Lo muttered the recruit. “Hold this ci ile To have a shot at presenting arn —Nporting and Dramatic News, Not Safe with Mother ‘ Tue mother of a very small girl was laughing at lunch the other day about some party at which the child had re- ived a present. Yow,” said the careful hostess, “you will you? Don't you eit to your mother won't lose it. to keep for you? ‘The child” considered and then shook her head. “No, thank you,” she said. “You see, er's rather a good loser!" —London Daily Chronicle. this carefully, Apo New American Credo: In_ the spring of their senior year all college students grow sentimental about their Alma Mater and mope around thinking how hard it will be to leave. —Cornell Widow. Rhymed Reviews Revelry By Samuel Hopkins Adams Bont & Liveright THis tale of plunder, oil and gin And governmental revelry Depicts official morals in A state of sad dishevelry. A President whose heart expands To friends, however ocherous, Employs his days in shaking hands; His nights are wet and pokerous, His crafty pals, whose greed of spoil Is worse than pocket-pickery, Involve their boss in deals in oil Through monumental trickery. A lady-friend would undeceive The Chief so gay and blustery Who simply can't and won't believe In such abuse of trustery. He learns, alas! too late, too late, About their horrid knavery, And nearly slays a reprobate Especially unsavory. And when the mass of deals and graft Approaches loud explosiveness, By accident he drinks a draught Of virulent corrosiveness. Betrayed, he sees, by tricks and lies Of ‘swindlers false and spidery, He keeps his plight concealed, and dies By silent suicidery. The yellow press for years and years Revealed our utter grovelry ; Now low history appears— Or is it yellow novelry? Arthur Guiterman, Pickpocket (in fog): \Vwe aust LANDED A GOLD TICKER — SOFTEST GUY 1 EVER HANDLED. Confederate (wrathfully): 11's MINE, YOU IDIOT, ‘DW ES YOURS. — Passing Show (London). comicbooks.com