The So-called Human Race

And write of things that really interest me:

Of books in running brooks, and wilding wings,
Of music, stardust, children, casements giving
On seas unvext by wars, and other things
That help to make our brief life worth the living.

I sing of arms and heroes, just because
All else is shadowed by that topic fearful;
But I’ve a mind to chuck it [Loud applause],
And tune my dollar harp to themes more cheerful.

Listen, Laura, Mary, Jessica, Dorothy, and other sweet singers! Gadder Roy, who is toiling over the pitcher-and-bowl circuit, wishes that some poet would do a lyric on that salvation of the traveler, Ham and Eggs. He doubts that it can be done by anybody who has not, time out of mind, scanned a greasy menu in a greasier hashery, and finally made it h. and e.

WE FEARED WE HAD STARTED SOMETHING

Sir: Should G. E. Thorpe’s typewritten communications carrying the suggestion GET/FAT precede or follow our communications which carry EAT/ME? E. A. T.

THEY’RE OFF!

Sir: What position in your letter file, respecting the suggestions of GET/FAT, will my typewritten letters land, as they end thusly: “HEL/NO”? H. E. L.

SWEETLY INEFFECTIVE

Sir: Perhaps the reason my collection letters have so little effect lately is that these cheerless communications always conclude with JAM/JAR. J. A. M.

BUT APROPOS

Sir: All this GET/FAT excitement reminds me of the case, so old it’s probably new again, of one Simmons, who wrote letters for one Green, and signed them “Green, per Simmons.” W. S.

SORRY. THERE WERE SEVERAL IN LINE AHEAD OF YOU

Sir: I have been waiting, very patiently, for some one to inform you that the sincerity of A. L. Lewis, manager of the country elevator department of the Quaker Oats Company, is sometimes made questionable by the initials, ALL/GAS, appearing on his business correspondence. O. K.

THE SECOND POST

[Received by a clothing company.]

Dear Sirs: I received the suits you sent me but in blue not gray as I said. Don’t try to send me your refuss, I am sending them back. I ain’t color blind or a jack ass, you shouldn’t treat me as that. I understand your wife is making coats for ladies now. Have her make one (dark) for my wife who is a stout 42 with a fer neck. Now send me what I asked for, the old woman is perticular. The trousers you sent wouldn’t slip over my head. Ever faithful, etc.

For Academy Ghost, or Familiar Spirit, P. D. Q. nominates Miss Bessie Spectre of Boston.

“The lake is partially frozen over and well filled with skaters.” – Janesville Gazette.

Three children sliding on the ice,
Upon a summer’s day,
As it fell out, they all fell in,
The rest they ran away.
Ma Goose.

There is plenty of snap to the department of mathematics in the Shortridge high school in Indianapolis. The head of the department is Walter G. Gingery.

Wedded, in Chicago, Otho Neer and Lucille Dimond. Fashion your own setting.

Oh, dear! Rollin Pease, the singer, is around again, reminding sundry readers of the difficulty of keeping them on a knife.

“THOSE FLAPJACKS OF BROWN’S.”

(Postscriptum.)

I’ll write no more verses – plague take ’em! —
Court neither your smiles nor your frowns,
If you’ll only please tell how to make ’em,
Those flapjacks of Brown’s. D. W. A.

Three cupfuls of flour will do nicely,
And toss in a teaspoon of salt;
Next add baking powder, precisely
Two teaspoons, the stuff to exalt;
Of sugar two tablespoons, heaping —
(All spoons should be heaping, says Neal);
Then mix it with strokes that are sweeping,
And stir like the Deil.

Three eggs. (Tho’ the missus may sputter,
You’ll pay to her protest no heed.)
A size-of-an-egg piece of butter,
And milk as you happen to need.
Now mix the whole mess with a beater;
Don’t get it too thick or too thin.
(And I pause to remark that this meter
Is awkward as sin.)

Of course there are touches that only
A genius like Brown can impart;
And genius is everywhere lonely,
And no one but Brown has the art.
I picture him stirring – a gentle
Exponent of modern Romance,
With his shirttails, in style Oriental,
Outside of his pants.

THE DICTATERS

Sir: I have lost a year’s growth since I went into business in answering questions about the letters that appear after my communications – HAM/AND. H. A. M.

Letters from the vice-president of the Badger Talking Machine Company of Milwaukee are signed JAS/AK. What do you make of that, Watsonius?

The following was typed at the end of a letter received t’other day: “HEE/HA.”