Judge — June 14, 1902 — page 4: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

say, w-w-will you beb-be ger-ger- good enough tut-to d-d-direct m-m-me tut- to the AN INDIAN SURPRISE. > pp "— Ping-pong d’partment? Y'sir. T'ree aisles t' left; thent trite sisteen counters.” And before the poor man had time to tell the stalwart individual that he wasn’t look- ing for the ping-pong department he was pushed along and drifted down with the tide of humanity. With a great deal of mai was able to squeeze out of the Bio Cuier Featnexseo—" Wow! Something do- going up to the first saleslady he came to, ing. White man swims right to us.” he said imploringly, « P. He wanted to say “please had hardly started when the lady 3 shrieked, -p—— most “ Ping-pong I presume you sir, You'll find that in the toy de sir.” And once more Bob was mercilessly shoved along with the crowd of femi bargain-salers. He was almost shoved into one of the floor-janitor’s large baskets. The man was ine busy | athering the waste-paper, and Mr. ye. auto (the mobe champion) —"* Look out, there. Fleming thought it a wise move to ask him ; boys! I'm ina hurry.” JUDGE'S FAVORITES. so he went up to the man and said, SiaRcAREr: DALE. + Peplease direct m-m-me tut-to the de-de-department w-where I ¢-c-could get a p-p-p™ When on the scene you brightly pop “Ping-pong set, is it? Vis, sor. ‘Tis th’ tinth disle ter yer roight. Wan soide, sor, We say there's no room at the top, plaze!” And before the harassed man could tell him that he didn't know a. ping-a-majig Because, oh, fair, elusive elf! vietel f nnn he tap ie covered by yoursell from a Pittsburg stogic the man had vanished. Long may you hold art's topmost top And never, never from it drop. But stay to drive all rivals mad And keep us merry, gay and glad. EVERYTHING IS PING-PONG. WHEN Bob Fleming watked into the Mystic Maze department-store he was puzzled as to which isle to take in order to reach the * pants” department, He seemed to be ina dry-goods labyrinth, First he would go up one aisle, down the next, and then up the neat, only to find bimself at the very place he started from. He swore that the next time Mrs. Flem- ing sent him to a department-store to buy * pants" he would sooner go with- out than buy them, He saw the big man ding at the huge ed; butas Mr, Flem- ing stuttered dreadfully he thought he would try and discover the appropri department without the aid of the big man, But it was no use; he must ask him for succor. who directed people doors when he entet bracing himself for AN OUTRAGE. Quo tavy—'* Oh, heavens! that baseball hit me right in the eye.” human directory and started to speak. Smart voy—" W'ot a bloomin’ shame! Only fer yer eye dat would er bin a home-run.”* the attempt, he walked nobly up to the Bob Fleming waited to hear no more. On through the crowd he pushed like a madman, anxious y kind of an outlet from 3) Gk asylum, He would ZS : have willingly tried to squeeze his ORS) ly i akan way through a knot-hole if it [g-_. would lead him to liberty. We eee At last he reached the street, panting and perspiring. Leaning against a lamp-post to rest his ried soul, he grumbled, Phe n-n-next tut-tut-time I c-c-c-come tut-to one of these de-de-department-sis-storesf-F-for lh a pup-pair of p-p-ping-pong Ouch! O-0-0-0!" And everybody looked at him as he frantically WHAT KILLED THEM. hopped around and wondered how Farmer Greene—"* How does Josh Whiffletree keep his tobacco-plants so free of tobacco-worms ?”* he had ever got by the keepers. Farmer Brown —"' Easy ‘nuff, He jes’ has his dude son from Yale go out in th’ tobacco-lot an" smoke cigarettes."* comicbooks.com