Judge — June 3, 1911 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

Reflections of Uncle Ezra. By ROY K. MOULTON. ROFESSOR TAUSSIG says there is too much foam on our civilization, but the professor does not seem to realize that a good many States are goin’ dry. I see that President Taft has been asked to name a set of triplets in Ken- tucky. He ort to name them something patriotic, like Red, White, and Blue. It may be possible to find, here and there, a ball player who doesn’t chaw tobacker, but he hasn’t been in the busi- ness very long. Every time we pick up the paper we see that the man who led the gallant six hundred in the charge at Balaklava has just died. That must have been about the largest six hundred on record. When Mrs. Hi Stubbins’s daughter Lutie wanted to go to a party, her mother told her to wear her pink silk dress or nothing, and so Lutie decided to wear the pink silk. Grandpa Binks suffered a severe ac- cident while walkin’ down Main Street the other day. He step- ped on his whiskers and fell down, frac- turin’ his pink flask and three or four of the commandments. There may be somewhere a barber who doesn’t think that all of the lather belongs in your eyes, ears, and mouth; but, if so, he ain't work- in’ at his trade. Ez Purdy, of this village, has traveled a great deal. For nine years he has been collectin’ fares on a merry-go-round in Schenectady. No. 21, the fast express, was so late the other day that she waited at our station an hour and a half and then was right on time for the next day's run. I see the president of the Pullman Company has retired for a much-needed rest, but not, however, in one of the company’s berths. Senator Jeff Davis says the newspapers are not particular friends of his. No, they couldn’t be friends of his and be very particular. Poetry is certainly a gift. Even the magazine editors re- fuse to regard it in any other light. There are two kinds of wimmen who like to be told that they are good Inokin’—the married ones and the single ones. THE TREE OP KNOWLEDGE. “SAY, MISTER, WHaT WILL YOU TAKE TO GIVE OUR NOUSE A SHINE?” Why He Chased Them Off. Two BANK presidents, on a summer vacation, were pa- tiently fishing from the mossy bank of a quiet stream, when two farmer's lads came out of a near-by field and, after watching the fishermen awhile, began to play tag in the grass. Annoyed by their gambols, one of the financiers chased the lads away and returned to his task, “Good idea!’’ commented the other angler. the fish away. “Oh, that wasn’t why I chased them off!’’ rejoined his companion. ‘But I always dread a run on the bank.’" “Boys scare Metaphorically Speaking. «6é7] ET US nip this monster in the bud before it overwhelms us as an oncoming tidal wave!’ shouted the young politician. “Perhaps,’’ said an experienced campaigner in the back of the hall, ‘tit would be better to smoke it out of its lair before it becomes a festering canker." Piscatorial Psalm, IVES of fishermen remind us That if the big ones never got away, There would be none left behind us For us to lie about another day. MY LADY NICOTINE. Algy (to Miss Up-to-date) —"' Percy and I belong to a league—we have sworn never to let any girl kiss us who smokes those howwid cigawettes,"’ comicbooks.com