Judge — August 20, 1910 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

MR. GOLDBUG TAKING HIS MORNING WALK AROUND THE BLOCK. Poetic Justice. “PA, I'VE just been reading about poetic justice. What does that mean?"’ “Listen, my child, and you shall hear. was a man who swindled me out of a lot of money in an Once there JUDGE In 1950. WINKLE, twinkle, little star! 1 oft wonder if you are Just an astral, bright and big, Or a headlight on an aero- gig. Nothing on Us. ARIS, with its anti- smell movement, hasn't anything on us over here, where we have an anti-noise society, already a success; an anti-see agitation, making it hot for the moving pictures; and the anti-taste folks, who are trying to smash the liquor irrigation scheme. Well, he became a victim of poetic business. justice. I have just heard that he died of water on the brain.” OME folks, in trying to put their best foot for- ward, put both feet into it. Love Always Finds a Way. by HOMER cROY. ‘T WAS midnight. The wind wept dismally. Great shadows stretched themselves out intoa blurred black. Na- ture had drawn her robe closely, and night seemed to be listening. In the shadow of the trees John was waiting when Mary came up, with a moonbeam now and then slip- ping through the branches lighting her face into asoft radiance. John took her hand and pressed a kiss on as soft as a moonbeam itself. her forehead that w: 1814 “Are you ready to fly, dear- an Yes, John, my own."” What makes you tremble 0, dear?” “T cannot help it, dear: don’t worry, Isn't ‘everyt awfully strange and still?” Yes, darling.” “ Have you written and sanded the letter telling them not to worry?’ “Yes, Mary dear. And puta word in the stage driver’s ear. “And provided cushions and smelling salts “Yes, dear.” but care, dear?” Doctor—"* Certainly. of a deceased patient."" What is the matter, Mary darling? What makes you cry? “I don’t know. I am so happy. Do you suppose they will MAKING SURE. Patient—"' So you want the money now before you perform the operation ?'" ‘According to the law of this State a doctor cannot collect hit 1914 “Are you ready to fly, dear- est?” Yes, John, my own.”* “ What makes you tremble so, dear?” “‘T cannot help it, dea don't worry. Isn't everytl awfully strange and still? “Yes, darling.” “Have you sent them a tele- gram not to worry?” “Yes, Mary dear. And fixed it up with the airdome keeper. And here are the goggles and gauntlets, love, and an extra propeller is strapped on, too. “And got the cushions and vacuum bottles?” “Yes, dear.” Dangers of Fashion. | By GERTRUDE MKENZIEL 810 mach to the charm of the modish Mc booes— Fashion tre ITH modish pumps and silken hose To cover up her dainty toes, The maid will be (as footwear goes) No doubt most sweetly neat; And yet, are such things safe and sane? ‘The pumps and hose may cause a pain. Who's heard not, time and time again, The danger of wet feet? nothing An Insurgent. By ROSCOE GILMORE STOTT. AN INSURGENT, brethren, is a Demo- crat elected by the Republicans. He is a grand-stand player, who generally tosses the main issue into the bleachers, thereby losing the game. No, hair is no considera- tion, A well-regulated insurgent can often win bouquets after the first act, but sel- dom does he escape cabbages after the last. An insurgent is a harmless victim of hypnotism, who is perishing for want of fellow - victims. He grow1s loudly, but will eat from the hand—if it holds votes, This variety loves petting, is in- fluenced strongly by the winds and waves of sentiment, and has been known to possess almost hu- man attributes. The La Follette species has been rampant for years without vio- lence. To be on the safe side, muzzle. INE is a mock- er and strong drink is hard to get in a‘ dry" town, bill from the heirs “* Why worry, Mary, my own? Haven't we each other? Just one more kiss, dearest girl. There, don’t be afraid! They'll see some time that it was all for the best. Come on, love. Follow me."* Silently into the night they stole, hand in hand, where a light gleamed and winked and waited. SURE SIGN. Burglar—* Let's turn off that house up theer to-night.’ Pshaw, no; it don’t look rich nuff. ar—"* Well, they got three autos.”” Yep; an’ likely hocked every thing of value in de house to pay fer ‘em."" Pat-