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UNDAY, OCTOBER 24, 191 .."."\“ Ll e & }'.!3;«°’¢'“';’"’-\'TH/'
While They’re About It Why Not Tax These?
By T. E. POWERS, the Famous Cartoonist
) T YLINDERS
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WILL THEY TAX THE BIG GAME ‘ - N\ K !ol (X
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ol AFFORD EM Aflfi“’; ity e P § foi. b 0 SRAREOWEN Y
Julian Rose Tells About What Happened at a Wedding i.i+.....
Copyright by Mr. Rose and All Rights Reserved.
T was very cold when I started for Abe's wedding
I last night. I got in a car and found myself sitting
next to one of these Irishmen. He wasn't cold.
He had a nice blanket around him. *“Must be fine to
have a fin® blanket to sit inside and keep warm,” 1
gald to him, *“Wish I could have it one like that.”
Then he said, “Why don’t you take mine?” As 1
started to reach over for it, he said, “You do, and
I'll gif you a wallop in the eye.” So unreasonable,
those people. If I'd had a pistol I'd have slapped
his face. Then he poked his finger in my eye, and I
got out, because that's not healthy.
Well, ] guess maybe Abe's lucky, now he's married.
'd like to do it, too, but every time I fall in love with
a girl T find she’s got no money, 80 what can 1 do?
One thing I didn’t like about Abe’s wedding was right
away it said at the top “your presents is requested.’
Thev can't wait to let you know you must help pay
it the expenses. And down at the bottom was
please come in evening dregs.” Jkey Blati wore his
pajamas.
Mrs. Cone was thers with her hair in a lufly
physic knot. Her teeth are beautiful-—both of them.
She had her dress ripped open to the knee—directory.
The groom had it a new suit, made for his brother
when the brother was married. When Abe sat down
{n it he stood up. His gift from the bride was a fine
watch, Swiss cheese movement,
Three little girls held up the bride’s dress, but the
groom used a safety pin for his trousers. Then the
rabbi told him, “There are three incidents in a man’s
life: he is born, he is married, he dies. Now all you
have to do is die.”
Inside that little hot room everybody was crying,
except big f* Mrs. Bloom. She perspired. Mrs.
Bauman waTuR T to kill, .but no wonder, her
husband’s a butcher. Four little Wolffs were there,
and oi, how they did eat! Now I know why is it al
ways said keep the wolfs away from the door.
Mrs. Iberg was telling about awful romantic pains
in her arm. She said she painted 'em with eider
dowh. Always something the watter with that
womaun. Last Spring she was in the hospital on
account she ate a sick fish. Before that she had
hardening of the artlllery. ;
We had so much to eat I was a stuffer. First we
had menu, but I didn't get any of that. I guess they
ran out of it early. Then was tomato surprise. But
it was no surprise to me. I ate 'em before lots of times.
Irving Blatt emptied a whole bottle pickled onions
in his pockets. He thought they were camphor balls.
The janitor of the apartment, Micky McCann, calls
himself superintendent, and he was there, too. He
gets forty-five dollars month wages and the neighbors’
milk. He got noisy, and hit Cone with a bottle. It
was a good thing Cone got in the way, or the bottle
would have broken a window.
Then Milton Bloom started to sing “Why Did They
Sell Killarney,” and that Irish loafer McCann
blamed it on Milton, and started to muss him all up.
McCann didn’t know it was a song. He thought
Killarney was really sold, and.jumped on Milton be
cause Milton deals in real estate. They had to open
a window and let in some climate
A cop walking by called Micky over Lo the wilLdow
and asked what's going on in there. Micky told him
he was cleaning up a Jewish wedding, and the cop
shook hands with Micky and lent &im his club.
By the time they arrested Bloom le didn’t have a
stitch to his back. But they had to take three in his
head. I was hit with a cowardly tomato. That's
the kind which hits you and runs. Then there were
several old shoes thrown at me-—one with a foot In it,
I had to go outside, on account I couldn’t stand
any more. I was under a table so long, almost to
suffocation. Outdoors I met my old friend Lepinsky. I
invited him to take a little drink, and he said sure,
0 we went across the street, he put in five cents, I
put in five cents, and we had a good time together,
We stepped across the room to the free lunch, and
there was a roast chicken just put on the table.
Lepinsky grabbed the whole chicken by the neck and
brought it to vur table.
“Lepinsky,” 1 said, “you can't have that chicken
all alone to eat.”
‘You're right,” he saye. “I'll go back to Lhe table
aud get sviue potatoes to go with it”
(ireat Artists and
Writers at Their Best
Demand If! Read It!
Sips From the Astor Cup
By Willard Connely
Coprvight, 115, &y Me Sar Company. Great Britain Rights Beservet
S far as wo're hep, the only thing desides an auto that beals 100
A miles & Dour 18 & woman's talk. Nut 01l Anderson, the big Neon
wegian, 414 102, and so did Tom Rooney, another Norwegian, whe
came in second. The last man to foish, one Limberg, @l4 fearful, as hie
pame would suggest, cates he only crept along st & measly elghtyfour
miles & hour. And so the Hheepshead Hay Speedway, with its Vinos
Astor Cup idea, has decome what they call & “classie”—a classio which
will be studied a whele lot more'n Latin mumunun-q.m
guy. 4
The B, R. T. walted us down to the scene of the chngfest on one of
ita fortyminute express traine in nearly doudle the time. Express train,
huh?! Yeh, becauss it's whors the passengers all express cartain opinions,
The crowd In each car was so small that we experienced no more jostilng
than a plece of coffes working its way ambitiously into the coffesgrinder,
Every several mioutes the train would stop to give us tourists o look
at historie Brooklyn, which woulda been fine if a guide had come through
the car and given us a Mitle talk on housetops, but the only guiding wonde
we heard to!d us where to “gftchersoorscards gentsonipa-dimedancents.
who'sanextaport-heeyargents'™
Natchally we admit we couldn't tell a driver “widont & scoreonrd™
but moreover we contend that when anybody crawls by us at 100 mi. per
br, we couldn™t tell whether he was Darney Oldfield or Barney Bernard,
Just as we started to look him n the eye he'd be half a mile past us on
the next lap, even before we could turn our knob around.
At the gates of the big enclosure, half a mile away from the courss
to give the vendors a chance to plead thelr cases, we ware met by In
quiring merchant princes of ham sandidges, uncertain apples, venerable
peaches, shameful ple, programmes, and soft seats for a nickel. Of the
entire lot we contracted for a programme. Discretion i the better pary
of hunger.
In an obscure part of the book was tucked a map of the victeity, with
the high lights playing on te outlines of the Speedway, bordering on
Sheepshead Bay. And at last we discoversed the answer to what has
always been a curfous source of reflaction with us--why the bay s called
Bheopshead. It's because it's shaped exactly like a log of mutton.
Back of the grandstand, whose dizzy heights we galned after Alpine
persistence, were parked cars of every description but one. We mention
no names, becaugse we don't want to be ealled a gasoline gossip, but there
is one car that even the B. K. T. has a shade on. Outside of that, Detroit
is & very nlce city,
As soon as we arrived the soclal register was checked up and found
to be complete, and the word was given for the waspshaped cars to line
up. We nodded to Vince Astor and Augy Belmont, and they didn't seem
to mind 1t a bit, Vince had on a new roll-top cap and scme gloves, while
Augy wore his new Fall suit, whereas our overcoat was heing worn for the
first time, too, Omne guy, whose name we don't care {f we never know, dis
played an ovércoat whose color made him look exactly like a plece of
canned salmon, and the girl he was with had raspberry tinted shoes
lacing up the back. It must be a great experience at night for one to
back out of one's shoes. y
Furs were rather prevalent, but one woman who hadn't saved up quite
enough yet out of the butter-un-egg money was carrying a live fox. All
she needed was a horse, a few dogs and a red coat, and she coulda ridden
to hounds, provided another party galloped alongside and wound the horn.
(That word “wound"” just reeks with parlance of the hunt) Of course,
we coulda carried to the race our live cat, whose coat is so warm, but we
thought we looked very modish, as it was, in our, may we reiterate, new
overcoat.
As we watched each demon leap across the starting wire like the
genial tiger going after what it wants when It wants it, a great commotion
in the rear of the stand caused us to turn our gase away from the infleld
and Oldfield for a moment, and we saw Raymond Hitcheock and Frank
Melntyre descending to a pair of wellchosen seats. Hitchy had on a gray
derby, and Frank had on several pounds more than when we last saw him,
“Frank,” sald Hitchy, “understood I you to say this race was for &
cup—a vulgar cup?™
. “Yep,” chirped Wrank, crisp as a stick of eandy, “a ecup without &
saucer. Then they split fifty thousand about twelve ways.”
“Oh,” boomed Hitchy In his down-cellar voice, doleful as a tolling
bell, “that means the twelfth man gets the best part of nine dollars.”
After the crowd had subsided and Hitchy had brushed his hair back,
the race was allowsd to go on. We saw them all away to a good start,
and the ignition seemed to be working properly on everything, evean on
Barney Oldfield's cigar, when we went back under the grandstand In
search of provender. Chicken salad was to be had for the beseeching, at
the rate of six bits for & whole lot. And there was no reason why anyone
should remain thirsty.
Tires were put on faster than we put on our rubbers, and pretty soon
one car took to eating up a tire every lap, so the driver decided he
wouldn't play any more, on account he almost collected the life insuranca
on his neck every time a tire dled on him. Now we haven't been bribed
not to say what make tire this was, but If anybody writes in and wants
to know, why, we have just enough spirit of old Albany, yunno, to lend
a bit of an ear.
At length about half the cars got winded, and decided they didn’t
want the old prizes anyhow, so they drew up, henrse-llke, beside thflfn%
own particular pits. Any bug which couldn't do a mile and a hfll;‘i
minute simply became a nuisance on the track, and a menace tollé
gation. Anderson and Rooney, in their glaring white vehicles, chased Boh
Burman, in his glaring black one, like two bathtubs in pursuit of a coal
WARON, P
We began to feel a mite woozy, having turned our jolly head on its
axis so continuously, what with following the Johnnies and the Barneys
and the Willles—might think they were dawgone jockeys—around that
planked course, which is shaped like a chaln link, woozy, we say, until
the band struck up zing-zing-ta-da-da-zing! Then in bold and welcome
relief a couple of young merryandys, with their hats eased back off their
foreds, bent their heads together in close harmony, \
The race was llke the “Ten little Injuns” which have been featured
in all editlons of Mrs. Goose’'s nursery rhymes, except that two ocdrs
stuck 1t out to the last in good shape. When Gil Anderson dismounted
from his winning car, we, standing in the stand not over a quarter mile
away, shouted, “Nice work, Gil.”” We hope he heard us, although he
didu’t turn around. Maybe he didn’t recognize our voice. Few people do,
But a lot of people nearby turned arouns and lamped us kinda surptised
like, a 8 much to say, “Gee, he knows Anderson.”
After the thing was all over, and the aircooled fans were sflently
stealing away, while the waiters were silently stealing sandidges snd
bottled goods left behind in the boxes, we took the opportunity of stealing
a glance in our souvenir book of the racket, to find what it was all sbout.
While the race was going on, yunno, every time we'd look into that book
to get some dope, somebody'd vell, “Yay!” and we'd have to look ovt en
the track again to see the excitement.
And say, guys, the claims made by some of those cars in the ada,
<ome of the makes which lasted rbout ten laps out of 175, wers unfl
to make a fella guess he'd better stick to walking a while vet.