Judge — January 26, 1907 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

GUNBUSTA, MONOLOGIST. TA ELLO, audience! HIREGAiA| | | It is the little things in this world that tell—my flat}!!! Hi HI! has been telling on me, [am narrow-minded, flai footed, and my milk of human kindness is condensed. Everything in our flat folds except the folding-bed— that’s broken, I have been living like a stuffed olive for twenty years in a suite of rooms consisting of six closets and a bath. The rooms are so small I can’t expand my chest without rubbing the be-yu-ti-ful flowers from the wall-paper. ‘There isn’t even room for doubt, and if I want to stretch my imagination I have to go up on the roof. Oh, what a cunning parlor! It could be entered by a crack lead- ing in from the hall. And what [at first took for electric push-buttons were the door - knobs. The ceiling in the parlor was so low that an Afri- can pygmy couldn't pass under it without singe- ing his hair, We usually stood our Christmas-tree in the parlor because there was a large hole where the ceiling fell down, and this admitted thé top of the tree com- fortably. Sometimes we chipped in with the ten- WHAT'S A LAWYER FOR? # Counre Lawyer—“' Of course you've told the whole truth about this affair ants up stairs and gota tree tall enough for the both of us to celebrate Uncte Nim Peaster—"' Yes, sir: nothin’ but the hull truth. I've hired “mon to the tapes, all right,"" said he. with the same tree. yer ter furnish the lies, so’s we kin win the case.”* (A ribbon-clerk he was, you see.) And then our tiny dining-room! I shall never forget it—as much as I would like to. When we all sat down to a meal we were so packed together that I invariably dug my fork into the pin-cushion on the chif- fonier instead of the prime chicken on the table. As I ate, my head was usually buried in the bird-cage dangling from the ceiling. And Ardeetee—that was the canary’s name—always mis- took my ex for a large receptacle for holding bird-gravel and bird-seed. And our kitchen! And our tiny gas-range! By the way, did you ever notice that, no matter how crowded your flat is, there is always room for the gas-meter to get around? What big meals were served from that little kitchen, though! Dwarfed pease! Little-neck clams! I must admit my wife could turn out the grandest stuff—she had some sort of a knack in opening cans. The only kitchen utensil we had room for was a can-opener. On Sundays, of course, we had a standing roast—there wasn’t room for it to sit down. The first day we moved into that compressed home was a memorable one. We complained to the janitor that some one had gouged two holes in the wall with a lead-pencil. Imagine our surprise when we were informed that the holes were speaking-tubes. And what we thought was a portable letter-box turned out to be a dumb-waiter. And what a dinky little white marble bath-tub we had! Our friends frequently mistook it for the soap-dish. You couldn't get into it without the aid of a shoe-horn, because it was about three sizes too small fo an ordinary person; and if you didn’t grease the sides of it-before you got in you never got out without the assistance of a plumber. Now, professor, we will sing «If Mayme Could Hug Her Otto Once Again.” ror rrrtee. RIBBON | COUNTER BARGAINS 2. “I'll just take a turn at the game, | will.” (He financed a flyer out of the till.) — 3. Dear me! these ribbons are different.”” 4, Said he, “' I've sold this ribbon short.” S. Then Johnny saw that he'd done wrong. (Not the kind he was used to, he meant.) (After all, our Johnny was quite a sport.) (So now he always sells ribbon long.) A TURN AT THE TAPE. comicbooks.com