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

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

JUDGE +. oad AT FOOL MULE hat happen’ to dat mule ?”” “* Why, sah, dat fool mule done kick me in de haid dis mornin." Rear-pew Philosophy. fy VANCE C. CRISS r ISN'T always the man who sits farthest front that takes the most interest in the sermon. The weight of a sermon doesn’t depend upon the volume of sound. The newer a woman's hat, the farther front she sits. Some men are never at home in a church unless they're asleep. Many a man who favors paying the preacher thirty dollars a month expects to hear a fifty-dollar sermon every Sunday. You can't expect a man to appreciate a sermon that has to filter through ostrich plumes, aigrettes, and birds of paradise. Many a man who believes he ought to pay one dollar for a dol- lar’s worth of goods thinks he ought to get one hundred dollars’ worth of religion for five cents. Nothing can kill the inte: sitting behind a couple of giggly girls. There is only one job more difficult to fill satisfactorily than being a preacher, and that is being a preacher's son. tin a sermon more quickly than Time heals all wounds, but knocks the heels off shoes. AN AFTER-THOUGHT. Why didn’t I hock this blamed machine before I “Just my luck ! ran into that place?” Can This Be True? et AST WIND, IND., December 4th.—Jabez Toothington, the well-known poet and novelist, reports a most interesting oc- currence in the northern part of the county last Monday. Mr, Toothington says that an aeroplanist flew over his farm during a heavy snowstorm, and that the fumes of the gasoline from the engine of the aeroplane so thoroughly impregnated the falling snow that he was able, with the help of his two sons, to make quite a quantity of it into snowballs and store it in his icehouse. He now feeds the gasoline-snowballs into his furnace and is thus pro- vided with a cheap but excellent fuel. LYING IN AMBUSH. Indignant avife (sarcastically) —"' You are a brave husband, I must say. A burglar in the house, and you leave me and hide under the bed." Timid husband—"* T-t-that's all r-r-right, m' d-dear. I'm I-l-ly- ing in ambush, you see."” Keeping His Word. By WILBUR D. NESBIT. oe ARRY me," he begged, ‘‘and your fair hands Shall never know the harsher touch of toil."’ She did; and now each day for hours she stands Before the stove, to stew and bake and broil. Her hands know not the touch of toil—ahem!— He bought her rubber gloves to wear on them! A Nine-day Wonder. ee ANGED if I can see,"’ frets the unmarried man, ‘‘why it takes a woman so long to get dressed to go anywhere !"" ‘*Humph!"’ remarks the married man, lighting a fresh cigar and settling back for a comfortable wait. ‘‘My boy, if you knew all that they wear you would be surprised at the marvelously quick time they really make.”” Men Don’t Usually. Captain—** Was the prisoner acting suspiciously?’ Officer—‘*I should say he was! I saw the man standing in front of a drygoods store, acting as if he actually wanted to go in!"" Exception. “The child is father to the man.” ‘*But there is no second manhood for second childhood.”” Knicker Bocker comicbooks.com