Judge — November 11, 1911 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ © & 8 F mother worried so that dad went to see if he was at any of the boys’ houses. He didn’t see Ned, but the other fellows told him how they'd been arrested, all but Bud, and how he must have got away, only nobody saw him. Then dad got hold of the policeman—and Bud’s clothes. When he got back it was almost dark and we were all waiting on the porch. Even Stuffy was solemn—she was hun- gry, and no sign of supper. Mother rushed to the gate to meet dad, and when she saw Bud's clothes she laid her cheek against them and let all her breath out at once. “He's drowned! You needn't tell me! I’ve always known it would come! Oh, my only boy, my only boy:’’ And she burst out crying on dad's shoulder. Her ‘only boy’?! Goodness! that made you feel worse than ever about being a girl. **Not a chance of his drowning, sweet- heart,’ dad said; but his face was white when he told her what he'd heard. “He'll be back, never fear, as soon as it’s dark enough.’’ And he waved the pants with a twisty sort of smile. Mother shook her head. “Every time he has asked to go to that cruel water, I’ve had a vision of a little white hearse at our door,”’ she sobbed. My throat ached horribly, but Stuffy began dancing up and down, “There tith now, hitto white hearth!’" she squealed, pointing up the road. Mother gave a little cry. Sure enough, there was a white hearse coming toward us down Elm Street from Parson's Pike. We watched the white horses move slowly down the block and stop in front of our house The driver called to father. Mother started to go, too, but the man put up his hand. ‘Mr. Kent,’’ he said, and limbed down and spoke low to dad. We saw him jerk his thumb toward the hearse, and mother squeezed my shoul- der till it hurt. Then dad ran and opened the door of the hearse and handed in the pants he had on his arm. After a min- ute he reached in and dragged out Bud —with just the pants on. . . . . . . These stars mean something, too— something too awful to write, like in books and the comic pictures. It’s queer that when you've worried about some one, you're crosser at him for scaring you than you are glad when you find out he isn’t’dead. But dad paid the hearse driver for bringing Bud home; that saved Bud the four weeks’ allowance Ned Goakes had promised the man if he’d take the Sandy Bottom road and pick him up. Mother was more sur- prised than ever that boys ever live to grow up, when she knew he'd been hid- ing in his birthday clothes under the button-ball log and in the bushes for three hours. Bud said afterward, when he'd forgot ten about the ‘‘stars,’’ that the hearse was lots better fun than a Pullman— more room, and you didn’t feel every minute that some one might look in on you by mistake. His "Fine and Dandy" House- keeping. E HAD written his wife that he was getting along ‘‘fine and dandy” while she was spending a month with her mother, and he was more than ever convinced that housekeeping was ‘‘no trick at all."’ Her comments on reach- ing home were along this line: “Why, Harry Clatterby, didn’t you know any better than to fry eggs in the pan of my silver scallop dish? You have ruined the thing! And what under the sun, moon, and stars did you mean by putting the eggs in a cut-glass honey dish after they were fried? If I ever in my life— And what have you been wiping the dishes on? My best em- broidered tray cloth! And you have been using one of my choicest embroid- ered initial napkins for a dish cloth! Look at it! As black as my shoe! And what have you been trying to cook in my chafing dish? Beefsteak? The idea of frying beefsteak in a silver chafing dish! Why didn’t you use the solid-silver bread tray? Looks as if you had put the beefsteak in that after you had fried it! And here is my hand- some, cut-glass celery dish full of cold and greasy fried potatoes! And what is this on the dining-room rug?) A grease spot as big as a meat platter! You let a plate of hot steak fall on it? My soul! And don’t you know any bet- ter than to tie a twenty-dollar lace cur- tain into a knot like they sometimes tie the tail of a horse? Nice way to use a curtain! And couldn’t you do a little, simple cooking without getting ashes strewn six feet around the range? Well, if this is what vou call getting along ‘fine and dandy,’ I wonder how things would have looked if you hadn’t gotten along very well?’’ Work. SOME men work for power, Some men work for fame, Some men keep on working Because they like the game; Some men work for health’s sake, Some to show their grit— Most men work because they Would starve if they should quit. 0 ROE, OYSTER > 2.5 90m /0 PEARLS BEFORE SWINE AGAIN. Mr. Hog (angrily) —"' Of all slovenly cooks !_ Take this oyster stew away instantly."* Waiter Ned—* Why, what 's the matter, sir?” Mr, Hog—'* Matter?’ Pab! I just found three big pearls in it!"* ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ ¢ Oo HY comicbooks.com 2 © * 2 « «© # *# «© # *® # # 2 ©