Judge — July 13, 1912 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

Amusing Stories of Well-known Persons When Harmon Was a Boy. OVERNOR JUDSON HARMON, of Ohio, though a fearless speaker onoccasion, is equally noted for his preg- nantsilences. When he was a small boy in an Ohio village, his chief playmate was another small boy named Bill. Among legitimate objects of boyish foray, the pair at one time gave their attention to a supply of fruit which Judson’s mother had stored in a cher- ished recess. When Mrs. dlarmon finally discovered that the fruit was diminishing, she promptly attributed the loss, with a mother’s partiality, to her son’s playmate, whose roguish traits were glaringly apparent to her. Bill, at his next visit, received her vigorous denunciation without affirma- tion or denial, though not without glances of indignant inquiry at Judson, who stood silently by, with a simulation of surprise and regret. As soon as the boys had escaped to the yard, Bill, in righteous wrath at the supposed treason of his pal, burst out, “Look here, Jud! Were you onery enough to lay the blame o’ that stealin’ onto me?” “Course not!"’ Jud replied. do you take me for?’’ “Well, it looked mighty like you had, when you stood there all the time a-sayin’ nothin’."” “Yes, Bil admitted Judson, with a cautious glance toward the house. ‘‘But as long as there's any fruit left, let "em suspect you. If they’re all the time watchin’ the outside, I can be usefuller See?’’ “What on the inside. Discipline at Annapolis. There is a distinguished naval officer of whom the following story is toid with reference to the days when he was a lad at the Annapolis academy. He got a good hazing and stood it pluckily. Later, as an upper-class man, he helped to haze other youngsters, for he always lived up to the Annapolis traditions. One day, it appears, he was ‘dressing down’’ a lad who has since achieved an international fame as an engineer. “‘What’s your name?’’ demanded the officer. “Ferguson, sir.’’ “Spell it.’” ‘*F-e-r-g-u-s-o-n, sir. “Spell it again, and remember that you're addressing your superior.’’ “F, sir; e, sir; r, sir; g, sir; u, sir; 8, sir; 0, sir; n, sir; Ferguson, sir.’’ Tillman's Treat. The winter apples of Benjamin Till- man, the South Carolina Senator, were picked and lying in the orchard in heaps of hundreds of bushels. The Senator was admiring them, the Baldwin bank in particular, when an old negro came tottering into the orchard and up to the Senator. “Have an apple, uncle?’’ asked the Senator. “Ef yo" please, sah,’’ replied the old negro, taking off his hat. “What kind will you have?”’ “*Mose any kine el’ ds, sah."” “About how meny will you have?’’ asked the Senator, stooping to pick up a few. “Why, I'll take all yo’ got, boss,’’ returned the old negro meekly; ‘‘but don’t rob yo'sef.’’ Presbyterians Not Slighted. Dr. W. R. Kelley, editor of the Her- ald at Watonga, Okla., being a man of many accomplishments, is a member of the Oklahoma Editorial Association, the Oklahoma Medical Association, the Ok- lahoma Pharmaceutical Association and a ranking officer in the Democratic party. Recently a State charter was issued to the Second Presbyterian Church of Watonga. ‘‘How does it come, doctor,” asked a friend, ‘‘that you are not one of the incorporators in this church char- ter?” “Oh, I’m in on that, too,’’ said the doctor. ‘‘I sold them the church."’ Poor Saint Paul! When Governor Foss, of Massachu- setts, is not busy signing pardons, he has been known to tell a funny story. A short time ago one of his Irish con- stituents was cleaning out the Gov- ernor’s cellar. Pat had his wife bring his luncheon down to him, and she did it with tears in her eyes. Pat, noticing her emotion, inquired the cause. “Sure, Pat,’’ she said, ‘‘it’s the Pope I'm thinkin’ of. He’s a sick man, they say.’” Pat, not knowing the Governor’s pos- sible interest in the ‘‘market,”’ replied, “Faith, it’s the saints we should be prayin’ for!"" “The saints, ye say !’’ returned the sur- prised spouse. “Sure, they’re all dead!"” “Of course ye know it all,’’ said Pat, contemptuously, ‘‘but I heard his honor tellin’ a frind this morning over the tiliyphone that Saint Paul was weaker.’’ Willing To Work. The Democratic members of the House of Representatives have been be- sieged ever by a horde of office-seekers, willing to serve their country. “It is refreshing,’’ said one Repre- sentative, in discussing the office ques- tion, ‘to hear of an aspirant for public office who frankly admits his ambition, yet disdains to seek a position in which he will have nothing to do but to draw his salary. “Two wayside pilgrims were talking over things, when one of them asked, “**Dick, you ain’t a-hankerin’ after no government place, are ye?’ “**T don’t mind sayin’ I'd take one of ‘em ef I could git it,’ responded the other; ‘but I don’t want no job that’s all fat. I’m willin’ to earn my wages.’ “«*An’ what sort 0’ job would be about your size?’ “«¢*Well, I’d like to fill fountain pens fur some Assistant Secretary of the Treasury.’”’ comicbooks.com