Newspaper Page Text
12
THE ATLANTIAN
April, 1920
CALL
MEDL OCR’S
For everything that is carried
in a first class Drug Store
Our Service is the
BEST
We invite your patronage.
MEDLOCK’S PHARMACY
Where LEE and GORDON MEET.
BOTH PHONES
ONE OF THE BOYS.
The small son of a prosperous law
yer recently discovered his mother
engrossed in 'the unusual task of plac
ing a ipatoh upon a pair of his little
knidkerbockers. As the stitches were
not exactly professional and the new
piece of slightly different material,
the addition was very obvious to the
most casual ovserver.
“Never mind," said mothe to the
woman. “I suppose everyone ought
to learn how to do it, and Junior can
wear these knickers in the house.’’
“Oh, mummy,” expostulated the
youngster, “mayn’t I please wear ’em
out? I never had any patches before,
and all the other boys are wearing
’em.”—New York Evening Sun.
UNFILIAL.
“The Blanks treat their mother
shamefully—they no longer laugh at
her jokes."—New York Evening Mail.
This is our idea of hospitality: we
load people down with kindness un
til their backs break, and then won
der why they don’t die happy.—Hamp-
ton Roads Monthly.
JUST LUCE HOME.
Miss A.: Is that boarding house as
homelike a place as they advertise it
to be?
Mrs. B.: I find it so. They have a
row with the cook almost every day.
—Boston Transcript.
A BOLSHEVIK LOVE SONG.
/
Fair Rifka, hearken, while I shriek
A serenade in Bolshevik.
To aid me in my mad career,
I need a buxom wife, my dear—
A woman who’ll co-operate
In smashing up affairs of state;
Who’ll juggle bombs, and flirt with
death,
And kill, without a bated breath;
Whose carmine lips will laugh when
gore
Flows freely just outisde the door.
Ah, maiden, if you’ll only try,
I’m sure that you can qualify.
And so, fair Rifka, I bespeak
Your heart and hand, in Bolshevik.
Oliver B. Capelle.
SEA-FEVER.
Two gobs of the Naval Reserve who
had been stationed at an inland train
ing camp for twelve months prepared
to leave their seats in a picture show.
“Wait a minute, Jack,” said Gob
Number One as a news weekly was
flashed on the screen.
“What for?" queried the second
sailor.
“Here’s a news weekly; maybe
we’ll see a battleship.”—Argonaut.
METAMORPHOSES.
You’ve beaten your swords into
ploughshares—
At least, that’* the orthodox twist;
Your cannon you’ll melt up for
watches,
The kind that are worn on the
wrist.
I
Your hand-grenades, too, as by magic,
(Will bloom into banks for the kids;
Your helmets will serve to hold flow
ers
Long after they’ve ceased to be
“lids.”
Your greaves and your gas masks
some uses
Will find, as you take up your
lives—
But this is the change most delight
ful;
Your sweethearts will turn into
wives.
William Wallace Wlhitelock.
NOW, WHAT DID SHE MEAN?
A busy business woman had en
gaged outside help to wash and clean
up house. As they entered the kitch
en, on arrival of the help, who had
been lecommended as a jewel, the
mistress said:
“This Ikitchen’s in an awful state,
Mary. I—’’
Never mind, missey; I’se used to
white folks.”—Ladies Home Journal.
WHAT MONEY CAN BUY.
A heart to love you till you die,
That’s a thing that money can buy.
A look of love from a loving eye,
That’s a thing that money can buy.
f
A tongue that never will tell a lie,
That’s a thing money can buy.
Ear and tongue and heart and eye,
These are things that money can buy;
Wherever dogs are bought and sold,
There are things that money can buy!
—New York Tribune.
CIVILIZATION.
France says it is art.
England says it is conquest.
America says if is energy.
Italy says it is song.
iRiussia says it is work.
Japan says it is imitation.
Satan says it is his private “movie.”
After all, a tea wagon is only a
pushcart that has brdken into so
ciety.
“The only thing for you to do is to
go around and apologize and ask her
to forgive you."
“But I was in the right."
“Then you’d better bring some
flowers and candy with you, too,”
OUR REGULAR DINNERS
THE BEST IN TOWN
FOLSOM’S
RESTAURANT
TIE BEST PUCE TO EAT
132-134 PEACHTREE STREET
ATLANTA, GEORGIA