Part 2 (2/2)

We have recorded the opinion that the Lum Tum Lumber Co. of Walla Walla, Wash., would make a good college yell; but the Wishkah Boom Co. of Wishkah, Wash., would do even better.

Some one was commiserating Impresario Dippel on his picturesque a.s.sortment of griefs. ”Yes,” he said, ”an impresario is a man who has trouble. If he hasn't any he makes it.”

What is the use of expositions of other men's philosophic systems unless the exposition is made lucid and interesting? Philosophers are much like certain musical critics: they write for one another, in a jargon which only themselves can understand.

O shade of Claude Debussy, for whom the bells of h.e.l.l or heaven go tingalingaling (for wherever you are it is certain there are many bells--great bells, little bells, bells in high air, and bells beneath the sea), how we should rejoice that the beautiful things which you dreamed are as a book that is sealed to most of those who put them upon programmes; for these do not merely play them badly, they do not play them at all. Thus they cannot be spoiled for us, nor can our ear be dulled; and when the few play them that understand, they are as fresh and beautiful as on the day when first you set them down.

”The increase in the use of tobacco by women,” declares the Methodist Board, ”is appalling.” Is it not? But so many things are appalling that it would be a relief to everybody if a board, or commission, or other volunteer organization were to act as a shock-absorber. Whenever an appalling situation arose, this group could be appalled for the rest of us. And we, knowing that the board would be properly appalled, should not have to worry.

Ad of a Des Moines baggage transfer company: ”Don't lie awake fearing you'll miss your train--we'll attend to that.” You bet they do.

The president of the Printing Press and Feeders' (sic) union estimates that a family in New York requires $2,362 a year to get by. Which sets us musing on the days of our youth in Manchester, N. H., when we were envied by the others of the newspaper staff because we got $18 a week.

We lived high, dressed expensively (for Manchester), and always had money for Wine and Song. How did we manage it? Blessed if we can remember.

The soi-disant human race appears to its best advantage, perhaps its only advantage, in work. The race is not ornamental, nor is it over-bright, having only enough wit to sc.r.a.pe along with. Work is the best thing it does, and when it seeks to avoid this, its reason for existence disappears.

”Where,” asks G. N., ”can I find the remainder of that beautiful Highland ballad beginning--

'I canna drook th' stourie tow, Nor ither soak my hoggie: Hae cluttered up the muckle doon, An' wow but I was voggie.'”

Women regard hair as pianists regard technic: one can't have too much of it.

The demand for regulation of the sale of wood alcohol reminds Uncle Henry of Horace Greeley's remark when he was asked to subscribe to a missionary fund ”to save his fellow-man from going to h.e.l.l.” Said Hod, ”Not enough of them go there now.”

A few lines on the literary page relate that Edith Alice Maitland, who recently died in London, was the original of ”Alice In Wonderland.”

Lewis Carroll wrote the book for her, and perhaps read chapters to her as he went along. Happy author, happy reader! If the ordering of our labors were entirely within our control we should write exclusively for children. They are more intelligent than adults, have a quicker apprehension, and are without prejudices. In addressing children, one may write quite frankly and sincerely. In addressing grown-ups the only safe medium of expression is irony.

Gleaned by R. J. S. from a Topeka church calendar: ”Preaching at 8 p.m., subject 'A Voice from h.e.l.l.' Miss Holman will sing.”

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