Judge — January 15, 1910 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Sa — = SSE rma Es. ——NOT A PROFESSOR THIS TIME. Absent-minded motor-boatist—"' Why didn't I think to bring some water with me! !"* SPEAKING OF BROMIDIOMS— By JORN F. ROSSER. “CYVES, I think my baby is not at all pretty. There are a number of babies in the community much better-looking than mine. My baby gets its ugliness from my side of the house, and not from its father’s."’ Ly “*T have no opinion about governmental 3)“ affairs. I regard problems of statesmanship A ¥ toodeep for me, so J never meddle.”” “Yes, I tried to get him; but I am glad he chose the other girl. She is so much . in more attractive than I am,’* fi “Llike for my husband to c-Itivate the acquaintance of other women. It would be manifestly unfair to expect him to devote ly to me.’” “ Tappreciate highly the con- fidence my party has thrice ex- pressed in me, but I feel that I have no right to enter another race or to meddle with public affairs. “Undoubtedly Mr. Taft's quiet ré- gime is preferable to my egotistic fool- hardiness. “* Looking over my Christmas pres- ents, I was convinced that my wife is an excellent judge of cigars and neck- “The theater is all right, but for entertainment I prefer going to church. A STELLAR NOISE. HE HERO of a Wild West play Outshoots them all by far. Indeed, one might quite safely say He is a “‘ shooting star." THE WAY HE LOOKED AT IT. «QO YOU want to marry my daugh- ter, do you, young man?” “Yee4 “ Well, can you support a family?”” ““H-how many are there of you, s-sir?”” &— THE ORIGINAL HOOKWORM. Everything that is submitted must first be put through the prime minister.”” to show you the new bayonet which I have invented for army use. THE MIDNIGHT OIL. By JAMES J. O'CONNELL. HUSH is over all. The noisy town, Wearied of strenuous work, is gone to rest, To sleep childlike upon its mother’s breast; While silence, like some huge and somber crown, Upon the peaceful night comes brooding down. Anon there echoes from the neighboring dark, In answer to gay roysterers, the bark Of honest watch dog. In a shabby gown, With locks unkempt, the room in disarray, All heedless of the rapid flight of time, Working while others sleep, in broken chair That mournful creaks to his frail body’s sway, And fingers moving to a mérry rhyme, The poet darns his socks—his only pair. JUST THE THING. Emperor—‘1 do not care to hear your proposition, sir. Subject—* Nothing would please me better. I wanted THE FOXY SPARROWS. By WILLIAM WALLACE WATTELOCK. ] WATCHED two sparrows in the plot Of ground before my flat First build their nest, then raise their brood Of fledglings brown and fat. Now, pretty soon these fledglings spread Their wings, and off they flew ; And straightaway the parent birds Began to build anew. “The foolish things to move!" 1 cried. “They ought to be content !”" “Perhaps, my dear,"” my wife replied, “The landlord raised the rent.”” WILFRED'S DESCRIPTION. PON returning from a palatial = residence Wilfred remarked to his governess, “Gee, Mary, it was great! They had swell furniture and swell carpets. In fact, everything in the house was swollen.” —~ comicbooks.com