Judge — July 2, 1910 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

Reassuring. «7 SUPPOSE,” jocularly says the husband who kas come for the week-end, “* that my wife has beep flirting with all the men here while I've been away.” “No, indeed,"” answers the clerk. “A few of the other men are here with their wives, and they're afraid to look at another woman,”* A POET may be born, but the magazines make him. SOLITAIRE. Scratch, Scratch, Scratch. (Peeling ta wo email way my lndebtedaets to Lotd Teanyvoa.) By ROSCOE GILMORE STOTT. ‘CRATCH, scratch, scratch, On some culd, gray stones, oh, match! And I would that my tongue might utter Some oaths in a big, round batch! Oh, well for the alderman’s kid That he shouts with his sister at play! Oh, well for the mamma's boy Who has run 'most a mile away! And the cannon crackers red, With a crash, oft startle and chill; But, oh, for the touch of a v: ed hand, And the sound of a voice that is still! Scratch, scratch, scratch, On the soles of my shoes, oh, match! But the cash I've spent on the kids to-day Makes me feel like the old Sam Patch! DESPITE the many terrible implements of war, the little toy pistol seems to hold its own, THE YARNS OF CAPTAIN FIBB. Table All Right. J© THEY have a good table?”? asks the pro- spective guest. “It is first rate,” answers the man who has just returned. “Solid oak, with heavy legs and a polished top.’” Every Convenience. «¢VVOUR circular,” says the dissatisfied guest to the proprietor, ‘announced that you offered especial advantages to aeronauts. I don’t see a single advanta; “You don’t?” says the astonished pro- prietor. ‘‘ Why, man, we've got more air around this hotel than you'll find anywhere else in the world!" Couldn’t Understand It. Ephraim Smartweed (gazing at the Singer Building)—‘* These here city folks tell me this is a skyscraper; but I bin a-watchin’ it fer two hours, and I hain't seen it do any acrapin’ yet!" Bryan. (Usual excores to Ki HE SHOUTING and the tumult dies, The Harmons and the Hearsts depart; , Still stands his party’s sacrifice, A noble and a willing heart. Jupce of the nation, stop him yet, Lest he forget, lest he forget! . T= GLAD hand doesn’t always have a genuine ring to it. 1. “ Pooh, pooh! ye can’t tell me nuthin’ about long-distance walkers and Marathon runners. Why, oncet I carried a message from the King of Hullabaloo in South Africy to the King of Den- mark, and that trip wuz a sockdologer! —— 2. —— Hardly had I got started when a lion comes arter me, and he chases me clean across the African jungles to the desert before I tires him out. Harpoon me fer a hurp if I didn’t! —— . jist about as I got me wind, along comes a pack of whirlin’ dervishes ! They pipes me, and comes arter me with murder in their yells. Yep, they chases me straight across the Great Des- ert inter the Mediterranean Sea ! —— MEL COME 70) ous erty! I wazn't in the water more'n ten minnits, coolin’ off, when a flock of sharks hits me trail, and I hits ‘er up along the bottom of ‘the sea fer the Italian shore. And one arter another tires out and kicks the bucket from ex- haustion |! —— 5. —— Well, joggle me jigger joints! ‘The next thing that happens is a ter’ ble dash across the Alps with a moun- tain goat at me heels, thirstin’ fer me blood! But I beat him out at his own game, and he soon buckles un- —— 6. And that wurn't enough, but a big brown bear had to tear arter me fast-failin’ footsteps through Denmark clean to the King’s palace. But jist about as I wuz cavin’ in, they swings open the gate and hauls me in jist as the bear's jaws snap on empty air! Then the King makes me a Kaight of the Order of Hotfeet.”” comicbooks.com