Judge — May 1, 1909 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

THE YARNS OF CAPTAIN FIBB. ¢ yarn is these: I left the 2: inland on the island 0° Flub- n 1 wuz chased by a fierce homed wooze till I comes to the edge of a to jump or git chawed up by the savage beast. Well, there wuz nothin’ left but to git dashed to death on a big rock that I wuz headin’ fer, so 1 says good-night fer me !—— a But dash me ding-busted scuppers if that rock wuzn't a tremenjus big dodo bird's egg! and I busted right through th the so shell mush inside. 1 saved me hull by in? wuz a sight !— — But jist then I gits froze stiff. au looks up, and th STRAPS. INCE man arose from Simian progenitors (perhaps!), He's been haunted by the Nemesine concomitance of straps. For on whatever phase Of human life you gaze, You will find in buckled bondage the most free and easy chaps. We were strapped into our cradles, lest we fall upon the floor. In the woodshed, when grown older, we were strapped—behind the door. ht and height we had cy “A strapping lad !"* We strapped our trunks for college, and a buckled belt we wore. Or in onr college days, mayhap, sus- penders took their plac But straps hung from our watches, and court plaster strapped our face, WHY NOT BORROW LAST YEARS BATHING SUIT FROM THE MOTHS? Yoon WELD 1 Seow Thears 5. e isa he fer me, as big as a abs me in his claws and sails away up in the air and out to sea. Pretty soon I sces me the Dinky Dido, below me, and when we gits right over her I pulls out me knife - Well, he When the wicked razor gashed, Or the other fellow ‘ smashed,”” On the gridiron, strapped with white: wash, spelling vict'ry or disgrace. And in the chilly world, at once “* hangers? we became. We *‘ buckled down to business,”’ tried to‘ cinch” the game. Not always what we'd mapped, For dark days found us “‘strappec But we ‘double wrapped "’ the driving. straps on Fate, and held her game. strap- and we Then we bound us to a maiden with the sunlight on her brow. ‘The preacher slipped the buckle, though ‘our salary raised a row; But we ‘stropped’’ Ambition’s blade, And soon our fortunes made, And we atrap our little kiddies into Rus- sian blouses now! (Maybe!) W.R BENET. WHY NOT KEEP YOUR TROUBLES se TO YOURSELF? THE ANSWER IS “UP TO you.” y BLOW me WT AwaE, 203m Fra! 6, ——and gives the big bird a slash across the toes, and he drops me like a hot potatoe and I falls right on deck at the skipper’s fect! Well, me lads, you bet I wuz glad to be back on board “1 SHALL BE WHEN THAT ¢ FOUNDED AUTOMOUNT PASSES ME. LABOR WASTED. 66 YJHAT is the matter with Rimer, these days?” “Why, his fiancée has turned him down."* “Is that so? I thought she was quite stuck on him. He wrote sonnet on her arms, a ballad on her face, a rondeau on her nose, a triolet on her grac: “Yes; and then stepped on her toes. comicbooks.com