THE OREGON SUNDAY JOURNAL', PORTLAND, SUNDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 1, 1012
VACATION , DAYSSQME -IMPRESSIONS - BY- THE ; : J0UR1
ARTISTS
for the love of
mike ruh that
spasm!! the
J0URNAC3 A .DfilUl
PAPER. NOT A .1
IMWTHLY IMIIUEII
VACATION Ah, that's the word that charms us these summer days when we're working and the other fellow isn't, We can imagine him in his golden days of leisure enjoying himself in a thousand and one
different ways but always enjoying himself. He may be marooned at some desolate resort with mud and mosquitoes as his constant companions on the rainy days, but we cannot see him otherwise
than basking in the sunshine and smiles of the bevies of beauteous bathing girls whom the railroad folder pictures jlf he is putting in his days off on a fishing excursion our mind insists on picturing
fiirrt with a full creel every day, when as a matter of fact he may have tramped the stream from daylight until dark (without so much as inducing one lone fish to fasten to his hook, Or perhaps he -is a
huntsman, And as such, we, in our office chair reverie, see herds of deer walking right up to his gun pleading to be shot, whereas he may , tell us on his return that he's willing to wager that' the only four
legged janimal extant in those parts is Widow Higgins1 cow, It all depends on the point of view, At any rate some one whispered "vacation" into the ears' of the members of THE JOURNAL'S art staff
ana herewith are reproduced the results, - ' :
HOO'S HOO - - By John W Carey
4 aBHMMaHHHHMHMaMHnMaMMlHMHHMHMH
WHO shone at Santiago Bay and
tank the Merrimac and bottled
up Cervera like a pint of apple
jack? Who smacked his way, defying
' germs, alt o'er his ttative land ? If
any lass was overlooked, she'll kindly
raise her hand.(
Who took to kissing babies next,
to mother's ecstasy, and landed as a
congressman in Washington, D. C?
Who stirs ye good Chautauqua
folks and rants of perils grave and
saves the nation twice a week (500
bones per save)?
: Who swears on Uncle Sam's do
main the Jap has got his lamp? That
Richmond Pearson Hobaon man the
Osculating Champ.
Holmes, Cap Collier, and Old Sleuth?
Who nails his man by dictagraph,
whichever way he turns? Aha! and
hist! and drop that gun! His Nobs,
Detective Burns.
WHO'S coming soon big farewell
tour see bill boards rain or
shine his last appearance-get
your seats parade at half-past nine?
Who puts it over year by year that
old-time so-long flim? (No Bern
hardt, Patti, or T. R. has got a thing
on him.)
Who gallops in on prancing steed
and makes a fancy bow and shows the
finest head of hair from here to far
Foo-Chow?
Who takes his rifle then and pegs
the fragile birds of clay, the buck-
COMMENTS OF THE IRISH CRITIC
fMACONtMSttW '
I HOW
an ed on Roosevelt that sizzles
through and through?
Who lays it down that four years
hence he'll still be on the job of run
ning down that White House thing?
La Follette "Fighting Bob."
WHO'S johnny-on when mys-ter-ee
and crime are in the air?
mWha-alwaya.-.gets . a .cluc-and..
trails the vilyun to his lair?
Who knows by heart the pedigree
of every living rrook, from Jimmy
Valentine, Esq., to shifty Dr. Cook?
Who's hep that Rill the Yegg has
got a wart beneath his nose that
slippery Sam, the gold brick man, is
minus half his toes?
Who makes all other gumshoe
sharks look just like rubes, forsooth
Nick Carter, llawkshaw, Sherlock
Missouri's hoodooed hound, but tied
upon its tail a can and chased it to
the pound?
Who pleads the commort peepul's
cause and wears a silken sock? Whose
lamp is on that White House job?
T. Woodrow Wilson "Doc."
"H
WHO sports t wondrous pompa
dour, decidedly au fait, the
greatest crop of upright fuzz
ince James J. Corbett's day?
Who showed 'em in Wisconsin that
he's well supplied with sand and has
the bosses and the trusts all eating
from his hand?
Who keeps our conscript dads on
edge and every week or so sets off a
bomb that gets the goat of Bailey,
Crane & Co.?
Who runs a magazine and when
there's nothing else to do, who writes
shot falling here and there, the while
the yaps hooray?
Who once was wont the lithesome
red to chase from hill to hill? Who
chases now the green that's long?
His Nobs, ye Buffalo Bill.
WHO hid himself in cap and gown
and taught the rah rah boys
till Colonel George Columbused
him and sprang him as The Noise?
Who palled with Harper's Weekly
boss as Damon did with Pyth till
Marsa Henry butted in and played
the village smtih?
Who longed to make Nebraska's
Pride look like a cocked chapeau, but
now gives thanks that he withheld
the solar plexus blow?
Who did not atop at klckln' round
WHO'S only got $900,000,000 in
the bank? In every burg
throughout the land, who runs
his little tank.
Who quotes at Sunday School the
texts from Job, who nursed the boil
on Monday quotes an increase in the
price of Standard Oil?
. Whg'd..give.. for. ... your .digestive
works his check book and his jeans?
Who'd croak if he should go against
a mess of pork and beans?
Who's got two hairs, one lonesome
tooth and stomach none at all? Who
wabbles on his legs whene'er he trails
the little ball?
With all his yen, who hasn't got a
thing on you or mc? Why, Rocke
feller, King of Coin for sure, he's
poor John D.
A New York Wife.
Louisville Courier-Journal.
"Now, Butch," cautioned the New
York wife, "don't get gay and kill any
body at the picnic today."
"Aw, g'wan."
"Don't do it, Butch., Remember, I
ain't got no clothes suitable for a
murder trial."
Paint va toft .
SurFBlQtC
His Time Limited.
Louisville Courier-Journal.
"Your beau," remarked the first
Summer girl, "doesn't seem to care to
spoon in secluded nooks."
"No," responded the second Sum
mer girl, "the poor gink only has four
days in which to acquire a coat of
tan."
Written for The Journal bv T. H. M.
OW are they comin'. ve av? Oh. on'v lukewarm, but th' bvet are
roundin into form all right," said the Irish critic.
"Keatin' jes' called Hare O'Neill a red-headed moose up there
at th' comer, an' Hare said he'd ate th' nose off htm, if he wasn't
afeerd av blood pizen, but there's nobody kilt yet.
"But there's no belying it, th' Bull moose is a gr-r-eat man; he's a bigger
man thin Samson iver was, for he's pulling down a bigger heap. Foley says
hes taken th' guff out va th' realms of nawbocalish an made it a science;
he's as indipindint, he says as a bawlin' brat in church in th' middle av th'
praitchers peroration, but I don't care, he's a gr-r-eat man, all right, so he is.
"Foley says his fav'rit text is Corinthians wan chapter th' 13, an' niver
a night passes over his devout head but whathe'a on his knees prain like th'
divil f'r a square dale; says he, he's a brindle cross ambulance tearing over
th' country t' pick up th' has beans an' wud bees and nurse thim on pro
posals; th' operation will be a suck'cess, he says, if th' patients die; this here
stump speechin', says he, is like a dhrawing room debate, ye must be polite
.an' clap an' cheer at th' proper time, for no gintleman will be so vulgar as to
take it se'rusly; wan hundred years from now, says he, we'll be th' leading
precedents av posterity's Mutts an' Jeffs. But I don't care, we'd betther
have a platform av proposals thin rayfusals. Tip over th' pepper pot an'
start some ginger, that's my dope.
"What's th' use ay being skimpy. I notis whin Annie Casey got Foley in
a corner, wid her lips like sthrawberries smothered in crame, an' he says to him,
'ain't ye for aquil suffridge,' he backed up and says 'I'm f'r anything Missus
f'r me pace av mind, but tis' I that heerd the same Foley time and agin' toot
ing 'Home Rule fr Ireland, but not Pr y'r wives.' Oh, th' decate av man, as
th' pote says.
"What's wrong wid a platform av proposals anyway? Foley says 'I've
met some men in my time who'd like to forgit their proposals,' but don't
they keep on proposin' all th' same? Is life worth th' living without pro
posals? But Foley says th' proposals av th' Bull Moose platform ain't clear
an' spiss'ific; he says it's as foggy as what Ryan said in th' big thrile in
coort; says Ryan to Jidge Jarge, 'ye see, Jidge, iWthis way,' he says, 'I
want to hire a lire an' a good lire. Luck at that bunch av th' body politic
sthandfn' over there on th' corner, dragging away at their pipes an' waiting
f'r dinner time,' he says; 'if yez wants to rouse some jinuine enthuse'asm,
rlear an' spiss'ific,' he says, 'go over there an' propose a snoot-full as an appe
tizer an' ye'll get all th' bull moosin' ye want as long as y'r change lasts,' he
says. 'But,' he says, if we went over there an' told thim that ye was goin t'
amind th' constitution so that they cud get two beers fr a nickel afther ye
was elected, they'd pay as much attention to ye as they wud to a steamboat
pulling a raft av piles through an open draw; all they'd want you to do is
to close up y'r bridge an' go off an' blockade somebody else.
"But I tell yez sir, ye can't stop that flying moose, he hasn't any use for
th' bosses, one hoss is enough for th' job; he can make any av his proposals
sound like a phonygraft roast av Willum J. Bryan to a Wall street delegate.
D'ye mind how he's plastering th' fat man all over wid Lorimer; he's as
great a man as Ab-'ram Lincoln, by gum, f'r ivrybody knows Ab'ram Lincoln
was famous f'r taking a kick at a dead ass; he ain't as cautious as Woodrow
Wilson, nayther, f'r he hasn't anything to be cautious about.
"Thou shalt not sthale, says he to th' raypublicans, an' that's what I say
to thim meself, f'r whin th' dimocrats get in they'll be nawthin' left but th'
chairs.
"What kind av a run will th' bull moose make, did ye say? Well, sir,
wid Jarge W. Perkins on th' coaching line shouting: "Work hard, Teddy,
me man, all th' time, me man,' he ought t' make as good a showing as the
Sacramento club."
(amy lU.Y
WOOStS IN
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HOW CURRENT EVENTS POLITICAL AND OTHERWISE APPEAL TO THE CARTOONISTS
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