Life — December 7, 1928 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

Ses Ges sss LIFE eka“ Santa Claus I love to dream of Santa Claus Who, disregarding Nature's Laws, Came sliding down the smallest Chimney While Strains of Christmastide Polymny Were borne across the drifted Snow Of colder Winters, long ago. He drove a Team of gallant Reindeer, Not ordinary safe and sane Deer, But Elk of Polar Solitudes, Now classed among the Wholesome Foods. To Children, Elders, Princes, Peasants, He brought delightful, Useless Presents Like Toys, and Dainties dry or wet That Folks won't Buy, but like to Get. He never gave for Ostentation, Reward, or Sense of Obligation; A Saint of boundless Warmth of Heart, He made Munificence an Art. Alas! this King of Benefactors Has Doubters, not to say Detractors: My Infant Relatives insist That Santa Claus does not exist! To which I answer, discontented, “If not, he ought to be Invented!” ArtHuR GUITERMAN. In Ye Goode Olde Days First Executioner: Good friend, what say ye to a flowing tankard of ale? Seconn Executioner: Go to, varlet! December is right nigh upon us, and | have full many tasks to do! First: Full many tasks? Wherefore? Seconp: Aye, full many. I must needs behead that scurvy knave, John Boll, that stole the pig from Widow Crom, and likewise that villain, Dick Tanner, that did make so bold as to jest of the King. First: And they must die? Seconp: Aye, they must, sire, and so, too, must that ne‘er-do-well jester who failed to move the Queen to mirth. First: But those are but three. Srconp: Nay, there’s two turned traitor Page 18 —— | to the Duke's cause, a wench that loved not wisely, and mayhap a dozen small-fry thieves. First: But all of these, I trow, were not to die until Christmas Day. Srconn: Addlepate! Where hast thou | been this twelve-month? Know ye not that the King has decreed that we, his executioners, must do our Christmas chopping early? Parke Cummings. Ma Hoopsnake: I wish you'd do some- thing about Willie! All that boy does is roll around all day. Pa Hoopsnake: Now, Ma, go easy on him—it’s only natural for a youngster to want to make hoopee. The Spirit of the Season Jupce: Now, madam, you tell your side of this affair. First Lavy: Well, it was this way, your Honor. She was pushing me all the time we were at the counter, until I got exas perated and told her, “Now, youl you with the peroxide top, lay off pushing me, jor I'll push your face in.” She got all het up, and said: “Yes, g’wan and push, ..«.Just do me a little favor and push!” So I pushed, and— Jupce: That will do. Now you, madam, Seconp Lavy: There ain’t much more to tell, your Honor. I guess she told you what happened, all right, only she got the persons a little mixed. She started the pushing, not I. And she— Jupce: Order! Now what I want to | know is just what started all this—what was it you were both after at the counter? Lavtes: Oh, Judge, it was a card with the darlingest engraved motto:—“Peace on Earth Good Will to Men.” Jupce: CASE DISMISSED! POLONIUS TO LAERTES “Now remember,” said the wise father to his bright son, “your mother and I | have high hopes for you. Indeed, I might | say we have the highest hopes for you. We want you, we expect you, to make good. We want you to rise to the greatest office in this great country; we intend that, some day, you shall be President of these United States. Therefore, we beg of you, nay, command you, not to spoil your | chances and frustrate our ambitions by turning Democrat.” Tue Ex-Prizericuter Hancs Ur His Sock comicbooks.com