Volume X Part 27 (2/2)

BY WALLACE IRWIN

Faces this Fall will lead the styles More than in former years With something very neat in smiles Well trimmed with eyes and ears.

The Gayer Set, so rumor hints, Will have their noses made In all the famous Highball Tints-- A bright carnation shade.

For morning wear in club and lobby, The Dark Brown Taste will be the hobby.

In Wall Street they will wear a gaze To match the paving-stones.

(This kind, Miss Ida Tarbell says, John Rockefeller owns.) Loud mouths, sharp glances, furtive looks Will be displayed upon The faces of the best-groomed crooks Convened in Was.h.i.+ngton.

Among the Saints of doubtful morals Some will wear halos, others laurels.

Checkered careers will be displayed On faces neatly lined, And vanity will still parade In smirks--the cheaper kind.

Chins will appear in Utah's zone Adorned with lace-like frizzes, And something striking will be shown In union-labor phizzes.

The gentry who have done the races Show something new in Poker Faces.

Cheek will supplant Stiff Upper Lips And take the place of Chin; The waiters will wear ostrich tips When tipping days begin.

The Wilhelm Moustache, curled with scorn, Will show the jaw beneath, And the Roosevelt Smile will still be worn Cut wide around the teeth.

If Frenzied Finance waxes stronger Stocks will be ”short” and faces longer.

But if you have a well-made face That's durable and firm, Its features you need not replace-- 'Twill wear another term.

Two eyes, a nose, a pair of ears, A chin that's clean and strong Will serve their owner many years And never go far wrong.

But if your face is shoddy, Brother, Run to the store and buy another!

FOOTNOTES:

[5] From ”At the Sign of the Dollar,” by Wallace Irwin. Copyright, 1905, by Fox, Duffield & Co.

HAD A SET OF DOUBLE TEETH

BY HOLMAN F. DAY

Oh, listen while I tell you a truthful little tale Of a man whose teeth were double all the solid way around; He could jest as slick as preachin' bite in two a s.h.i.+ngle-nail, Or squonch a molded bullet, sah, and ev'ry tooth was sound.

I've seen him lift a keg of pork, a-bitin' on the chine, And he'd clench a rope and hang there like a puppy to a root; And a feller he could pull and twitch and yank up on the line, But he couldn't do no business with that double-toothed galoot.

He was luggin' up some s.h.i.+ngles,--bunch, sah, underneath each arm,-- The time that he was s.h.i.+nglin' of the Baptist meetin'-house; The ladder cracked and buckled, but he didn't think no harm, When all at once she busted, and he started down kersouse.

His head, sah, when she busted, it was jest abreast the eaves; And he nipped, sah, quicker 'n lightnin', and he gripped there with his teeth, And he never dropped the s.h.i.+ngles, but he hung to both the sheaves, Though the solid ground was suttenly more 'n thirty feet beneath.

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