Judge — August 12, 1905 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

Photo by Schloss JUDGE'S FAVORITES. MISS ELEANOR KENT. By musical comedy all are entranced; Comic operas no longer are sung—they are danced. Some sing with their ankles, their shoulders, their eyes. A genuine voice we consider a prize. Miss Eleanor Kent, when from ‘Frisco you came, You gave us real singing quite worthy the name. In musical plays you all hearts captivate With the silvery voice from the Golden Gate. A FULL RELATIVE, sero was that in the café with you last night?” ++ A full cousin of mine.” GOT TO REST UP. St, Peter (to recording angel)—* Well, what's the matter now?” Recording angel—'I've got to have a vacation, Keeping tabs on that New York smart set has given me writer's cramp.” AN ETCHING. ITIWAS in a breach-of-promise suit the letters all were read, And here is what the opening words of each epistle said : “Dear Mr. Smith,” *+Dear friend,” “Dear Fred,” “My darling four-leaf clover +My ownest George,” ‘Dear Fred,” + Dear sir," then “Sir,” and all was over. PARSON BLACK WARDS OFF TAINTED-MONEY OFFERINGS. S4)MAH deah bredren en sistren,” began Parson Moses Black with his usual gravity of speech; mah deah bredren en sistren, Ah take mah tex’ fum John D. Baptist, en Ah shall perceed ter ‘luci- date on de subjec’ ob tainted money; fo’, as John D. Baptist say, «Cast yo’r oil upon de watahs en—er—aftah many days it shall return unter yo’. ‘Amen !" said Deacon Jones, suddenly aroused from sweet dreams of ‘possum and ‘taters. “De Lawd, he loveth er cheerful giber,” continued the parson. “+ He likes fo’ a man ter dig deep down inter his jeans en bring up de results ob de sweat ob his brow ; but he doan’ want no tainted money, en he doan’ want no ‘spender-buttons. He want de col’ cash. Now, de deaken am er-gwine ter pass de hat, en Ah doan’ want no money what's bin tainted wid cyards en crap-shootin’. Yo" onery crap-shoot- in’ niggahs ain’ ‘spected ter put in ennything.” The deacon passed the hat and the congregation dropped in quar- ters, halves and dollars. No tainted money there—and no crap-shoot- ers seemed to be present. WILLIAM STUART WiLL. NO MORE WHITCOMB RILEYS. First Indiana poet— Times are not what they used to be.” Second Indiana poet— Prithee, fellow-littérateur, why this sad- ness?” First Indiana poet—Gracious me! haven't you heard? They are establishing public bath-houses to take the places of the old swim- ming:holes. Think of a poem about a bath-house !” NOT THE KIND SHE MEANT. Pretty girl (to new grocery-clerk)—"* Do you keep dates ?” Clerk—" Certainly. How would eight-thirty at the southern en- trance to the Common suit you ?” BIGGER BUT SMALLER. Harry—« James made a big pile of rocks with that little sell of his."* John—"Nes ; and he's got a bigger pile now and a smaller cell.” HE OUGHT TO KNOW. Wyld—» Why, you don’t know what hard work is.” Mack—"1 don't, ch? Did you ever try to win an heiress?” A ee ose WHY SHE DIDN'T GET IN. “« What are you going to name your cance?” Gladys," because she is so much like you. Be careful getting aboard—she's awful cranky.” comicbooks.com