Judge — March 18, 1911 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

To a Domestic. By EDMUND VANCE COOKE. HE ‘‘servant prob- lem"? Oh, be jig- gered! I'd say bejammed, were't not too \ rough, The way I have the question figured, The servant prob- lem’s plain enough. Now hold your breath while I disclose it— . Your cook's not of you, and—she knows it. Too bad domestics should be souled And habited like other humans! It makes it hard for them to mold Their methods to the other woman's. This problem's bothered all the ra As well as her who ‘‘seeks a place. — Brahman and Sudra can’t cohere. Greek and barbarian jar each other. Turk and Armenian interfere. Russian and Jew eat one another. Norman and Saxon saved their nation With this one word—amalgamation. As long as class and caste exist, Of heaping laps and empty han The lower caste will still resist With what poor weapons it commands. More credit, then, to any lassie Who has no class and yet is ‘‘classy.’” Then here’s a cup—a coffee cup (Apologies to cereal mixtures !)— To Rose, who keeps her kitchen up Beyond the parlor’s daintier fixtures. 'Most any time you take a look in, Her sink is something you could cook in. For wages like a piker’s bet, She runs the house and keeps her sta- tion. She is not angel-tempered, yet She has scant outlet for vexation. She does not scrap with other Biddies, Nor take it out upon the kiddies, Withal she is a diplomat, For, void of malice, free of sauce, While planning this or doing that, She knows just when and whom boss! No statesman ever filled his niche in Better than Rose does in her kitchen. In the Arms of the Chair. 66 AND IS she pretty?” we ask of the youth who is waxing enthu- siastic over the latest visitor. ‘Pretty?’ he exclaims. ‘Why, say, that girl is so pretty that when she sits in an armchair it tries to hug her!’’ A Shellfish Thought. 66 SUNNY, isn’t it”? — “That what?” “That when a fellow’s affairs have reached the blue point he never declares that the world is his oyster!" QUALIFIED FOR THE ANANIAS CLUB. Deacon—"‘ Thet feller admitted in court thet he was a liar."" Squire—"* Yes; but I doubt it, deacon The Burglar’s Stratagem. HE BURGLAR stumbled in the hall and fell to the floor with a loud crash. “Ts that you, John?’’ came a sharp, feminine voice from a near-by bedroom. “Yes, it’s me,” returned the burglar, all of a shiver. ‘*Where have you been until this time of night?’’ demanded the voice. “None of your business where I've been!"’ retorted the burglar, in a hoarse whisper; whereupon the lady slammed the bedroom door in his face and locked it, leaving him free rein to investigate the contents of the dining-room safe. Such Stuff as Dreams Are Made of. Van Swagger—'‘I say, old man, you have no idea what a stunning new car I've got! Why, it runs so smoothly, you can’t feel it at all! Nota bit of noise, no chugging—you can’t hear a sound! And it's positively odorless—can't smell a ching! And as for speed—why, it fairly whizzes! You simply can’t see it go by!" Van Wagger—H'm, old man! Must be a fine car! Can't feel it, can’t hear it, can’t smell it, can’t see it! How do you know it’s there?’’ Carelyn Wells 'HE ‘‘busted”’ auto tire is just as good to tack up over the barn door as the worn-out horseshoe. You can’t believe anything he says."” Notes from the Basswood Bugle. NE feller was in such a hurry to get out of our town last week that he didn’t wait to take a train, but took a drink of carbolic acid. Hod Purdy’s son shows signs of be- comin’ a magazine poet and the family don’t know whether to kill him now or let him suffer. Jed Frink says he can eat anything and everything. He ought to be durned fond of hash, then. Ame Whipple says he doesn’t believe in bein’ stingy with the wimmen folks. He gives his wife twenty-five cents every Saturday to buy something extry for the Sunday dinner. Rey K. Moulton. ABOUT THE SIZE OF IT. ‘* How do I look, dearie?"" “Ob, immense!" comicbooks.com