The Rock Island Argus and daily union. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1920-1923, 1922-01-11

To pass this matter by.
1t strikes me as a youthful plot
A plot that I deplore-
And heaven only knows I've got
Enough to answer Tor!
WOULD that we had the facility in rime
possessed by a poet in the Atkinson C1ll)
News. The first two lines of his poem writ
ten some time ago. are:
You are invited to Liberty church Cornwall.
On Friday evening December ninth this fall. :"
WHILE the cables were being transmitted
on the Consolidated Press wire yesterday the
gentleman: who attunes his tympana to the
ticker caught this locution, which tickleS our
fancy: 'Ire-bolshevize bolsheyism. We had
not heard it before; had you?
KIPLING ANSWERED THAT SHE" QUERY
LONG AGO.
Hello Mac: I'm here again. Yes, which
fireman DID uncross his fngers-horrid old
thing! It's way to Dav. for us and Huntoon's
Ltd. is still coppers. And look what time
we'll have to leave home. Gosh! what If the
Bridge line car quits running. Won't it he
Mac. remember back in those old days when
you wished for the schoolhouse TO burn down?
But of course this is not 5oklng matter
quite serious.
Thanks, awfuIly, Tim, old dear, for putting
me in print again. 1t feels good to see ones
name there when one did not even have to
write it. You seem to be able to advertise the
fapper pretty we'll; why not try your hand at
the schoolna' ans and thereby let j. G. S. do
his own subject choosing?
Tim, if a fair lady didn't want you to see
her silk footgear she wouldn't wear it; and it
would be much handler, as she wouldn't have
to turn back the cuffs like tops Tor is it tops
like cuffs?) you could see em. But, OF
course she chooses to wear the silk!
Other day before the fire. we had an Eng
lish class and were studying genders: i. e.,
masculine. neuter common and feminine tlast
for emphasiSl and teacha asked one or US tnls
absurd question:
why are some nanimate things called he
or she? Why is the moon called 'she'T'
"Chaperone, sort of. va know" came the
soft soulful reply of our-rather one of our
brilliant students. MERRY MAGGIE.
THE politicians whom the Tribune has
declared are crooked From a letter in
the Trib's Vox Pop written by a downstate
editor.
Who" said the owl Whom" howIed We
ed
Lucky 'Twasn't the Third or Fourth.
From the Cambridge Qll.) ChroniCle.1
LOST-Last Thursday between Arthur
AnGerson's place, east of town and c. o.
Swanson's residence, the fifth wheel of
Maxwell car with Ajax tire. VIII the
finder please notify this Office?
HOW many in the audience watching the
FIT. Armstrong film, Boomerang Bill. recog-
nized the tune the orchestra played Just after
Bills little party at the Democrats ball? None
save the old timers, we'll wager. Gosh
how that tune takes us back "Th' Bowery,
tn Bowery, I'll never go there any more"
All of which gives US excuse to print one
OF the hundreds of parodies circulating years.
and years and years. and-well, some little
time ago. II memory serves, it ran like this
And then went into auction store.
I'd never been in such a place beforeA
The first put up was a pair of sox
An then says he. How much for the box"
Somebody says, Two dollars. l says Three
An he emptied the box an he gave it t me-
! 4 sold you the BOX. not the SOX,' says he
An I'll never go there any more.
WHAT would happen if 40 real lions were
turned loose in Spencer square," asks an ad
! in The Argus.
| If you're asking us. we should say they
would take one look at the unreal lions in
Spencer square, turn tail and flee.
MEMORIES.
Could l but dream that thou to wouldst
My love for thee is as the flowers of May.
All bursting into wild exotic bloom
| OF lavish wealth that spurns swift-wafted
! DOOM;
Could l but hear thee say within dream:
| My love for thee is like mighty stream,
SUift-rushing the while it mightier grows
| Until no reach OF boundary it knows;
All could I dream that thou wouldst say, MY
love
For thee is as the myriad stars above
Ashine on thee in full as many ways
AS there are Heav'n's unnumbered silv'ry
/
All could l ever dream but once that all
| Thy golden love would hold me in its thralI
I'd pray that l might dream, and dreaming
keep
With Death a tryst of deep, eternal sleep.
! OLD BACH.
THE Boston Globe (if are not in error
remarked the other day that las between De
Valera and Mike Collins we are betting on the
! Irishman."
A safe bet. The Irishman is now minister
OF finance in Mr.. Griffith's new cabinet The
Spanish American Irishman ought to have
mailed to him copy of Old Strick' G.llilan's
poem, "Finngin".
| Equine Note.
From the Sunday Trib
| Some one said to Mr.. Potter that the
resemblance between Guy, the other bays
| and Anne WAS striking.
| ITO the real poet" says Friend Rio. there
! is indeed nothing nice as eating for a
| change"
Bang! goes another illusion. We've never
| been really hungry in all our life
PROBE Raffe of Live Baby'-State Inves-
tgator Goes to Danville; Believes Child Will
Prove to Be Young Pig.'-Argus headline.
WAIT till its mother catches that inyes.
tiratOrt e