It was at least a dozen years before the war, when guns were not the ordinary things they have become of late.
From the New York Tribune, April 19, 1919.
The Conning Tower, by Sylvania.
I get a great many letters from girls asking me why they are wallflowers. They say they are just as good looking, just as intelligent, just as well dressed, just as well placed socially as the other girls in their set, yet while the other girls have beaus a-plenty they never receive any attention from men.
From The Washington Herald, April 18, 1919.
By Dorothy Dix, the world’s highest paid woman writer.
How would you milk a whale? The answer to this question is eagerly awaited by at least two large companies on the Pacific Coast, which have recently revived the whaling industry.
From The Tomahawk, April 17, 1919.
Happenings in the Cites.
We are hearing a great deal about the status quo ante just now. The problem of the whole world is how to get things back to where they were before the war.
From The Washington Herald, April 16, 1919.
By Dorothy Dix, the world’s highest paid woman writer.
If the conductorette is busy with a pad and pencil and fails to stop her car when you want to get off, treat her gently. She is writing a play.
From The News Scimitar, April 15, 1919. Memphis, Tennessee.
On the Spur of the Moment by Roy K. Moulton.
An oculist says the eye of most persons is undergoing a change to a shorter range of vision.
Love and fear are not opposites. In fact, they are pretty much the same thing.
In these days when the spectacle of millionaires being made overnight via the munitions or other wartime routes, is more or less commonplace…
Is it proper for a husband who loves his wife dearly, and admires her very much, to praise her to her face, or should he remain silent and keep his good opinion of her to himself?
From The Washington Herald, April 9, 1919.
By Dorothy Dix, The World’s Highest Paid Woman Writer