Judge — November 11, 1911 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

Good whisky must be properly aged, it must be pure. This famous old liquor has stood the test for purity made by thousands of eminent physicians who prescribe it. Sold by all good merchants or sent direct. Money back if not pleased. Dest. 202 Lexington, Ky. Express ES E.PEp WHISKY America’s Oldest and Best Known Brand EST. 1780 A Week End Visit. (Continued from preceding pace) singing, ‘‘Alma, dear Alma!"’ at the top of his voice. It is the fine country air that makes him so vivacious, and the joy of life—see pure food and drug act. You find that you need another shave. “Oh, Halsey, can I have some hot water?”” ure, old man! In a jiff.”” You sit in a funny chair, in your underclothes and the comforter off the FINEST BEER EVER BREWED An Honest Wholesome bed, reading ‘*Lucille’—the one book that you are sure to find in a guest Beverage chamber. Half an hour later—your wife has left, her toilet completed—there is a knock on your door, and you kick over a long tin pitcher on the door sill. It’s the hot water. You say something— loudly—as you rub your razor-back shin in pain. This brings about four assorted youngsters, in their canton-flannel night- ies, whooping out of their rooms, de- lighted at the idea of going in wading at home. Of course you can use cold water—there is some in the pitcher on your washstand. Where is your razor strop? You have forgotten to pack it. Rather than call on Halsey again, you shut one end of your leather belt in a bureau drawer as a substitute, you begin stropping, and nearly cut your arm off when you pull too hard and the drawer opens. Your shirt studs have been left behind, of course; so you use the wooden ones the laundry puts in your shirt when | they send it home. Otherwise you are quite comfortable and finally dressed. There’s a dinner that evening, and, although you lacerated your hands on those sharp, wooden shirt studs, you manage to pull through until bedtime. You undress as quickly as possible—there’s a reason. If you get into bed first, your wife will naturally be the one to turn out the lights and for the Family Served with the meals it helps the appetite and di- gestion. ALWAYS THE SAME GOOD OLD Don't Wear a Truss STUARTS PLAS TR-PADS are diferent ‘rom the palatal truss, being made re parposels to inexpensive, Process fas eee es Rae AO Ssicr tik Sac eeare AL OF PLAP! ‘The piquancy of @ Sherbet is attained by using ‘Addrves—PLAPAO LABORATORIES, Block 202, St, Louis, Bo i adash of Abbott's Bitters. Sample by mail, 25 cts, in stamps. C. W. Abbott & Co., Baltimore, Md. In answering advertisements please mention JUDGE. It will be appreciated. try at night? The very silence that pours into your open window is appall- ing. You can hear your watch—it sounds like a large cricket. You can hear your heart beat—hers, too, for that matter. If there was only a bowling alley or an ’ train or a taxicab around, you might go to sleep. There is nothing soothing like that for miles around. You imagine you could hear the clouds scraping across the face of that chilly-looking moon out there. You naturally begin to think of unpleasant things, like death, wind-swept graves, immortality, why, quo vadis—you know that sort of thing. Morning comes as you are dropping to sleep, and with a knock on the door and the voice of Mrs. Halsey, ‘‘Good-morn- ing! You're going to have your break- fast upstairs, We always do.” (Yes, and we always dress for dinner.) If there’s one form of entertainment you particularly abhor, it is breakfast in your bedroom. After you have had your bath (we always take a cold bath in the morning) and have just crawled into your underclothes, the maid with the breakfast tray knocks at the door, and you have to take to the clothes hamper or the closet while she comes in and sets the tray on a chair. When the coast is clear and you have put on your tub gown, you and your wife sit on the edge of one of the beds and look at the breakfast tray. They have forgotten the sugar—both kinds, Your wife chases down the hall after the departing maid: you go to the door and call after her, ‘‘And some but- ter—and some spoons.’’ Meanwhile, the poached eggs have turned into frozen jelly fish, and both cups of coffee that you have poured out are sitting chilled under a blanket of their own manu- facture. When you have finished eating, in order to give yourselves more room to dress in, you take up the tray and set it outside the door; then you have to take another bath, as ycu have tipped the tray, and a mixture of wet oatmeal and coffee-au-milk has run up your arm. And if you are accustomed to reading the Sun in the mornings, your host natu- rally only takes the Herald—and even this hasn’t come into the living-room yet. The cook and laundress are still looking over the Help Wanted columns (City). You go down into the living-room. You sit down in one end of the room and your wife in another. You pick up a copy of Whitman's ‘‘Leaves of Grass," she tries to read ‘‘Tristram Shandy,” and the rain comes down like buckshot on the veranda roof. “Good Lord! what day is to-day?” “Saturday, dear.’’ “Have we got to stay here till Mon- es, we accepted. Hush! here comes Halsey !”” Your host now appears, in homespun Norfolk jacket and knickers. “I’ve got an idea, people! for a walk!"’ To be polite, you go. ‘‘Where’s my umbrella?’ you ask grouchily. (Continued on following pote.) Let’s go Murine Eye Tonic has Won Many, Friends for that “Morning After the Night Before" Feeling. comicbooks.com