Judge — December 2, 1911 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

An Attic Idyll. By CARLETON G. GARRETSON. [:Seaeeep. to the dusty, cobwebby old attic, And rummaged about with a youthful delight. Thrilled with sensations extremely ec- static, I gazed at my toys—I’d forgotten them quite. I found my old cradle. ’Twas ‘crudely constructed. (‘Twas naught but a soap box on rock- ers, in truth!) And there was the ragged rag doll I'd conducted On many a stroll, in the days of my youth. And even my dear Noah's Ark! It was broken; Still, eV'ry fragment to me was as gold, Standing of life's brightest days as a token, Flooding my soul with the fancies of old. There in a box were my lit- tle kilt dresses, Mittens and socks and a bonnet or two. Even my curls! Ah, those torturing tresses That caused shrieks of woe as the comb wrig- gled through! I made out a list, and what pleasure it gave me! “Why should you lie there,’’ thought I, ‘tin the dust? Relics of youth, you are destined to save me! I am dead busted, and save me you must!’’ I rushed to a dealer in sec- ond-hand chattels; I showed him the list of old duffle I'd got. I said, “I will sell it, from tresses to rattles. How much will you give me, good man, for the lot?” The bargain was made. A receipt I indited. With joy I’m so full that I hardly can speak, And this is the reason why I’m so de- lighted— I've rented that attic for ten bones a week! Foolish Query. He—‘Why do you have that copy of JupcE on the piano?’’ She—‘‘Why, don’t you see, I want to play some jokes EW YORK streets, like Dead-sea fruit, have turned to ashes. Pat (as comrade falls from sixth story) The Ruralite Speaks. BELIEVE a feller owes it to the com- mun’ty he lives in to keep hisself slicked up good and fine. I go to the barber’s myself every year or two. Mirandy wants me to buy a motor car, but I got a kind o’ notion we kin run inter debt fast enough without speedin’ through life by machinery. Whenever I come acrost a cemetary and read the epitaphs, the thing that impresses me most ain’t the epi so much as the taffy. VERY RECKLESS. out for th’ beer! Whippin’ in skule may not make a feller any clever’n he ought to be, but, by gum! as I remember it, it useter make me smart some! Hidden. Few many a rose is born To bloom and blush unseen; Full many a brand-new overcoat Hides a summer suit, I ween. Between You and Me. TH sewing circle, now and then, Talks about the best of men. —"' Hivins, Moike! The Weaker Sex. ‘OMAN is known for her curiosity— but she never buys foil-wrapped cigars. She is noted for her love of trading stamps—but she doesn’t buy off-brand tobacco to obtain the profit-sharing cer- tificates. She is ridiculed for her fondness for bargains—but she doesn’t play the penny machines. She is said to be foolish about dress— but she isn’t addicted to the wearing of no-space collars. She plays bridge—but the roulette wheel is not one of her failings. She is unwise—but it is generally the man who pro- poses marriage. She can’t see a joke— but she isn’t one. —Densld A. Kahn. Up-to-date. Visitor (in Red Gulch Opera House) — ‘‘What’s that cast-iron-looking thing over there?”” Alkali Ike —‘‘That’s a shooting box. They have them in England, you know. Great scheme! Gives the boys a place to settle their differencesduring theshow, confines all the gun-play to one place, and doesn’t dis- turb the rest of the audi- ence."” The End of His Love. ITH a wild sob she fell into her mother’s arms. “(My poor child!’’ the Look elder woman exclaimed. “What has happened? Has he struck you? Can it be possible that he is leading a double life?”” “He has ceased to love me!’’ the young wife replied, with a hopeless wail. “*Why do you think so, dear?”’ “This morning I caught him combing my silken strands out of his hairbrush before using it on his own head!”’ Advantage of Height. THE tall giraffe had quite a laugh While at the show he sat, Because his view was good, he knew, Despite the biggest hat. comicbooks.com