Judge — December 9, 1911 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

v9» 3. *' Look heah! you come back wif dat bumbril. Ab may need dat.'’ 4 now become too numerous to discuss fully. Give us a chance and we will produce a race of women that men will not want to pet into imbecility and who will treat with man on a rational basis only. Give us time and we will bring our institutions to the point where our sister Eve left off."" Young Scrooge. Youn Scrooge enters the elevator and sees a little box hanging up, adorned with holly and red ribbon and bearing a card: ‘‘Remember the Elevator Boy. Merry Christ- mas!"" “I remember you, Joseph,”’ he says. ‘‘I remember how you ran past me ninety-five times last summer, just to show me that you were running this elevator. I re- member you all right.”” Y UC This Here. F Christmas mirth there was a dearth This year, and so, you see, The editor was happy for This little verse from me. Remarks of Santa Claus. Madi’ J.J O'CONNELL. ’M AFRAID the ladies will soon get soured on me if I don’t have a vote to put in their stockings. The world is getting better, and now, with everything honestly stamped and labeled, I can hand out the presents without feeling that I'm an old fraud. I'm glad I am far away and don’t hear what is said about me when the bills for all these things come in at New Year's. There doesn’t seem to be much in all this race-suicide talk. I should get through early this year, with a pack that isn’t out of all propor- Friend on next streel youngster at you house.** Smith—" Great Scott! can you hear it that far?"" tion, It’s a lucky thing for me that women’s hats are growing smaller again. It gets me all twisted when I have to put these mannish presents in the New Woman's stocking. 1 feel sorry for the hard-luck fellows when I have to hand them some more lemons this year. No wonder I have such a lot of junk to deliver, for the rich have no little stockings to fill. HEARD, BUT NOT SEEN. “* Hello, Smith! I must get rid of all my drums, tin whistles, skates, and bobsleds before they inaugurate the safe and sane Christmas. There’s something wrong with the world. I don’t have many presents to give out where most of the kids are. HE aftermath of Christmas—devis- ing a way to pay for them all. I bear you have a tl Ny fi vy ** Did Ab say Ab felt sorry foab dat bird ?"" You Mistake Our Meaning. MAN is being sued in New York for $25,000 for kicking his cook. He is trying to prove an alibi. We make no guess at his guilt or innocence, but the very fact that a man might be accused of such an act strikes us breath- less with awe. When we give orders to the kitchen, we do it through a crack in the door. And there have been times—we say this in whispers and urge that you let it get no further— when we would have been willing to borrow $25,000 and spend it upon the merely momentary lux- ury of one good, swift—Hush! we hear some one moving in the pantry! For heaven's sake, hush! Her Choice. By TUDOR JENKS HAVE found out the gift for my fair, The gift even she must admire; Tis neither bright snoods for her hair, Nor bonbons nor ‘broidered at- tire. There are flowrets that nod in the dell, There are blooms on the upland and lea; But my lady disdains their weak spell— Such boons are too trivial for me. But I've found out the gift for my love— A gift without blemish or speck. ’Tis neither a ribbon nor glove— It’s a whacking big certified eneck. Modern Facilities. Mrs. Cobwigger—'*What was all that noise you were making on the roof?” Freddy—*1 was building an_ aero- drome for Santa Claus, so he could land in his airship near our chimney.’ comicbooks.com »